Chapter 228 Please, I've Changed My Mind
"Sir?! Sir, what's wrong?!"
Mark, who had been waiting at the cemetery entrance, was thrown into a complete panic by the scene before him. He rushed forward, trying to support Alexander.
Last night, when Alexander first slipped out of the mansion, Mark had noticed and quietly followed. He'd tailed him the entire night, watching Alexander stagger into the cemetery, witnessing every moment of torment he'd endured.
Now, seeing Alexander suddenly bolt out like a man possessed, Mark nearly froze.
But Alexander violently shook off his hand, "The car! Keys! Give them to me!"
"Sir, where are you going? Please, slow down, your leg—"
"Give them to me!" Alexander practically roared.
Mark didn't dare resist and fumbled for the keys.
Alexander snatched them, yanked open the car door, and floored it. The car shot forward.
"Sir! Wait! Your injuries!"
Mark chased after him for a few steps, but could only watch as the car vanished down the road.
Trembling, he immediately jumped into another car and followed.
Alexander ran every red light and arrived at David's clinic at breakneck speed.
Before the car had even fully stopped, he shoved the door open and stumbled toward the clinic entrance.
"David! It's me! Open the door!"
It was still early, and the clinic hadn't opened yet.
After what felt like an eternity of shuffling footsteps inside, the door finally opened. David stood there, still half-asleep, but the moment he recognized his visitor, he went completely still.
"Mr. Hamilton?!"
David gasped, hardly believing his eyes.
The man before him bore no trace of the underworld boss, the Hamilton heir, he once was.
In just half a month, he'd become a wreck—covered in injuries, so haggard he was almost unrecognizable. Even his hair, already disheveled, looked like it had been through hell overnight.
"What happened to you? What on earth happened? You're badly injured!"
He quickly stepped aside to help him into the examination room.
But Alexander suddenly grabbed his arm.
"David... hypnotize me! Now! Right now!"
David was startled by the nearly crazed look in his eyes and tried to talk him down, "Mr. Hamilton, please calm down! Your current state is extremely unstable, and you're injured—you absolutely cannot be hypnotized! It's too dangerous! You should remember what happened last time—"
"I don't care!" Alexander growled, eyes bloodshot, backing him into a corner.
"Mr. Hamilton! Snap out of it!"
David's voice rose too.
"Mrs. Hamilton has passed away—this is an unchangeable fact! I know you can't accept her death, but trying to use hypnosis to escape it will only make you suffer more! If we keep doing this, the consequences will be severe! I can't—"
"I'm begging you!"
Alexander dropped to his knees.
The man who once needed only a glance to make half the city tremble had now collapsed without reservation, pleading in the most desperate way possible.
"Mr. Hamilton! What are you doing! Please get up!"
David panicked, his hands shaking as he bent down to help him.
But Alexander stubbornly remained kneeling, clutching his sleeve, crying so hard he could barely speak.
"David... I'm begging you... hypnotize me... please..."
"I was wrong before... I shouldn't have wanted to forget her... I can't forget... I have to remember! Remember her... remember everything I did to her..."
"I... I want to see her again... even if it's just in a dream... even if it's just one glimpse..."
"But I can't see her anymore... I don't even dream anymore..."
"Please... save me... I really can't hold on anymore..."
His words came in broken fragments, his emotions spiraling, tears streaming down.
David froze, his outstretched hand suspended in mid-air, a knot tightening in his chest.
He had seen countless people tormented by psychological trauma and guilt.
But someone like Alexander—going from extreme coldness to extreme remorse, from seeking death to seeking life, and now nearly destroying himself trying to cling to pain just to remember someone... he had never seen anything like it.
Perhaps this was his reckoning, the storm he had to weather alone.
David let out a deep sigh and finally relented.
"Alright."
He closed his eyes wearily.
"But Mr. Hamilton, I must remind you again—given your current mental state, combined with the fact that your last hypnosis had a completely opposite goal, the risk this time will be much higher than before. You might—"
"It doesn't matter," Alexander interrupted him.
"I'll bear all the consequences. As long as I can see her again... as long as I can remember more clearly..."
David shook his head and stopped objecting.
He helped Alexander up and led him into the treatment room, having him lie down on the familiar reclining chair.
As soon as Alexander lay down, he urgently closed his eyes.
"David... start now..." he urged.
Looking at his almost desperate longing, David felt the weight in his chest grow heavier.
"Alright, Mr. Hamilton, try to relax... follow my voice... take a deep breath... in... and out... good... let your body slowly loosen... from head to toe... every part relaxing..."
Accompanied by soft background music, Alexander's rigid body finally began to settle under the guidance.
"Now... imagine you're walking down a long, warm corridor... at the end of the corridor is a door... when you push it open, you'll enter the deepest part of your heart, the moment you most long to return to..."
Alexander's eyelids trembled, his brow furrowed, as if struggling to reach something.
"Tell me, what do you see? What do you feel?"
Alexander's lips moved slightly.
"Rain... cold..."
Darkness, dampness, cold.
Then, gradually emerging sensations.
A warmth came to his forehead—a gentle hand resting there.
In his ear, a soft, tender voice was calling him.
"Alexander... Alexander?"
That was... Caroline!
He really saw her again!
No, wait...
Alexander suddenly realized something.
He remembered!
At the very last moment of the previous hypnosis, he had also briefly glimpsed a blurry dream.
But after waking up, that memory had been pulled away—he only remembered waking with a start, but forgot what was in the dream.
Alexander's eyes snapped open.
What came into view was the familiar crystal chandelier—the Hamilton family's old mansion, his childhood bedroom.
Alexander's heart pounded violently.
He stiffly turned his head to look at the bedside.