Half an hour later, in the wine cellar of the old Clarke family estate.
Ivy had been "escorted" here by two bodyguards.
She looked at Damien, who was sitting on a sofa with an IV drip in his arm, and she was furious.
"Damien, are you sick in the head? I'm Grace's friend, not your prisoner!"
Damien didn't speak, just quietly watched the fluid drip, drop by drop, from the IV bag.
He had lost a lot of weight.
"Where is she?" Damien asked.
"I don't know!" Ivy rolled her eyes. "And even if I did, I wouldn't tell you! Just leave her alone, can't you?"
"Leave her alone?"
Damien repeated the words under his breath.
"I want to leave her alone, but who's going to leave me alone?"
He looked up, and his eyes, usually so fierce, were now bloodshot and filled with a desperate plea.
"Ivy, I gave up the Clarke family."
"I'm nothing now. I just want to know if she's okay."
"I promise I won't bother her. I won't even show my face. I'll even sign a contract. If I could just see her, I would give her my life."
Ivy was stunned.
She had known Damien for years and had never seen him like this.
"She… her leg is sensitive to the cold," Damien continued, as if talking to himself. "She has a weak stomach, too. All those years with the Hart family, she often went hungry. It ruined her digestion."
"She's also afraid of the dark. She has to sleep with a light on…"
Ivy couldn't listen anymore. She turned her head away, her eyes stinging.
"She's in Verstein," Ivy said through gritted teeth. "At the Verstein Institute of Technology. It was her uncle's dream to go there."
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