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My Husband Trapped Our Son in a Carousel, I Died and Became the Ruthless King of Hell Novel Cover

My Husband Trapped Our Son in a Carousel, I Died and Became the Ruthless King of Hell

Dexter traps his five-year-old son, Leslie, inside a carousel to appease his illegitimate daughter, ignoring the boy's warnings of a vengeful ghost. When the mother tries to intervene, Dexter violently throws her onto a spinning ride and abandons them. Both mother and son perish. However, this tragedy awakens her true identity as the reincarnated King of Hell. Returning to her underworld throne, she revokes the century of lifespan she once gifted her husband, seeking ultimate retribution.
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Chapter 3

Emma coyly rubbed against his chest and said, "Oh, you're so perverted."

Dexter said, "What's there to be shy about? Having a big puppy lick your shoes, how fun is that?"

"She owed you and your daughter anyway. Just an orphan my family adopted. I was kind enough to treat her like a sister, but my mom insisted I marry her, saying she was the reincarnation of the King of Hell. That's what tore you and me apart. Who knows what trick she pulled?" As he spoke, he shouted at my face. "Hurry up."

My eyes widened, I met Dexter's gaze of loathing and my whole body trembled.

Before my tribulation, I had lived a thousand years. I had never suffered such humiliation. Even in my past three lives, he had always cherished me like a treasure in his hands.

But no matter how powerful I had once been, right now I was just a pitiful mother tried to save her son.

Forced my trembling hands to still, I bent down.

Just as my lips were about to touch the shoe, Dexter kicked me away while said, "Ugh, forget it. Your mouth would only dirty Emma."

He gently wiped Emma with a silk handkerchief, then tossed the soiled cloth onto me and raised his phone, shook it mockingly and said, "I recorded that disgusting, shameless look of yours. I'll show Leslie when he gets back so he knows what a disgrace you are. Emma's clearly the better fit to be his mom."

"Unlike you, you'll do anything to get my attention and please me. So cheap!" After finished cursing, he went downstairs, still holding Amanda, off to celebrate Children's Day.

"Has Amanda's pain gotten any better after all afternoon?" He rubbed his nose affectionately against Amanda's chubby cheek, the image of a loving father.

When he saw Amanda frowning in pain, his eyes reddened. A tear slid from the corner of his eye toward the soul-gathering stone in my hand.

I clutched my belly and stood, let a single tear fall as I laughed bitterly.

To activate the soul-gathering stone, the tears of both parents were required.

Just a moment ago, I was still worried how to make someone as cold and heartless as Dexter shed a tear, turned out, it was this easy.

Unfortunately, his precious daughter wasn't just sick, she was tainted with ghostly energy. There was no way saving her.

Didn't want to watch their display of father-daughter affection any longer, I followed the light of the soul stone to a corner of the bedroom.

There lay a hand-drawn family portrait, its corners curled from being touched countless times.

The lines were rough, like a child's doodle.

But in truth, it had been Dexter's birthday gift to Leslie last year.

That was the only time he ever celebrated Leslie's birthday. He had barely picked up the pen when Emma called, so he rushed to finish the drawing, shoved it at Leslie and walked out.

I carefully folded the paper, tears flew down my cheeks. All Leslie ever wanted was a complete family.

As I folded the paper, I noticed a line of childish writing on the back.

I flipped it over: [I hope Daddy can love Mommy forever, so Mommy will always be happy! :)]

I collapsed to the floor, I laughed and cried at once.

In the dead of night, Leslie's flickering soul slowly drifted into the soul-gathering stone.

Downstairs, every channel on every television was broadcasting, [Wishing little Miss Amanda a happy Children's Day!]

Just a wall away, Dexter was deliberately making Emma scream loudly, even shouted my name now and then. But I no longer cared.

I simply tucked the drawing into my sleeve and whispered through tears, "Don't worry, Leslie. Mommy will make everyone who hurt you pay the price!"

At dawn, Dexter left for work. I walked into their bedroom.

Emma lay spread out in an "M" shape on the bed. Upon seeing me, she deliberately twisted her waist, flaunted the marks all over her body.

A small toy, dirtied between her legs, tumbled out.

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