After Five Years, I Devour the Skeletons in His Closet

A terrible howl from Wiggle split through the air.

The sound set something off inside me. I snatched up a jagged shard from the floor, grabbed the man by the hair, and drove it straight into his eye.

His screams pierced my ears. But to me, they sounded like music, like a masterpiece.

I turned my head and caught sight of the crowd that had been pointing and whispering about me just moments ago. One by one, their voices fell silent.

Of course, no one dared provoke a lunatic.

And I wasn’t just any lunatic—I was the kind of madwoman bold enough to threaten the life of the Browett’s heir. Even the security guards didn’t dare touch me. They knew it.

I looked at that group of sycophants who rely on power and spat a mouthful of blood at their feet. I sneered, “Cowards!”

Leaving all that trash, I strode off in the direction Vernon had gone.

Inside the private room, he had already brought Joanie to a bed and called for his personal doctor.

The doctor carefully examined her wounds, but Joanie shook her head through tears.

“Don’t worry about me,” she sobbed. “Check on Vernon first.”

Her voice trembled as she went on, “I never imagined… Keyshia has only gotten more insane after five years. I should’ve been ruthless back then. If she’s here now, it must be because she still can’t let you go.”

Her tone grew full of grievance. “Everyone in the city knew how madly she loved you. Just because you treated me a little better, she humiliated me in public… even slapped me across the face.”

She dabbed at her tears, pleading, “Vernon, don’t let her destroy what we have. Promise me, okay?”

Vernon sat at the bedside, his fingers closing around hers in a show of tenderness. “I won’t. Don’t worry,” he replied, reassuring her.

Then a mocking laugh escaped him. “To me, Keyshia was nothing more than a toy. When we were kids, I locked her in the dark room whenever I got bored, tossing snakes and crawling insects inside just to hear her cry. It amused me.”

His jaw tightened. “Later, when I saw her feeding stray dogs every day, I poisoned a few of them. She actually pulled a knife on me over a bunch of filthy animals.”

A muscle ticked in his cheek as he added coldly, “That dog deserved to die.”

I froze at the doorway, hearing every word.

Memories I had buried deep clawed their way back. The chain around my neck... The three endless days Vernon kept me captive, breaking my body until I was nothing but bruises.

And even then, his hand still mercilessly clamped around my throat as he snarled, “Don’t you dare take any meds!”

His gaze had been feverish and obsessed. It burned into me like a curse.

“If playing with you isn’t enough, then carry my child,” he suggested. “I want to see if you’ll still have such a spine once you’re carrying my blood.”

It had been Wiggle who brought Ernest to rescue me. It had been Wiggle who stayed with me in the hospital.

That day, I cut off the possibility of ever becoming a mother. I swore I’d never bear Vernon’s child, not even if it meant living barren for life.

From that moment on, Vernon wanted Wiggle dead.

My phone buzzed, snapping me back to the private room. The name flashing on the screen softened my expression at once.

“You went to the party at my future father-in-law's place?” The man’s voice was warm, teasing. “I heard your ex-husband’s there, too. Why didn’t you wait for me?”

Listening to that voice, I couldn’t help but complain, “I’m about to get myself killed! Before that happens, hurry up and save me!”

I hung up quickly, slipping the phone away just in time to catch Joanie’s question.

“Vernon… what if Keyshia still wants to be with you?”

Before Vernon could answer, I shoved the door open with a kick. The bang startled Joanie, and her face froze in shock. Vernon immediately pulled her behind him.

“Keyshia!” Joanie shrieked. “You’ve really gone too far—following us all the way here?!”

Vernon looked at me, like a predator toying with prey. “What now? You want to crawl back and be my wife again? Do you even know who you are?”

I didn’t bother answering. I just lunged forward, knife flashing in my hand, and drove the blade deep into his abdomen. My lips curled into a cold smile as his eyes widened.

“Vernon,” I whispered, my voice like ice. “Go to hell!”