This Time, I Won't Die By Your Hands My Ex-Boyfriend

My small two-bedroom apartment had been turned upside down by his men.

Yet he still found nothing.

"Didn't you say Lianna was unclogging a sewer? Where is she?"

His face flushed red as he stormed up to me, voice booming with rage.

Seeing him like this, a wicked satisfaction curled in my chest.

Revenge tasted sweet.

I raised my brows, speaking slowly, almost lazily, "I only said she was unclogging a sewer. I never said it was in my house. Maybe she's unclogging one at your driver's place. Why don't you check there?"

Hubert's eyes went cold. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked hard.

"Drop the sarcasm," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I'll ask you one last time—where are you hiding Lianna?"

Lianna's whereabouts had always been a secret. I was nothing but her scapegoat—how could I possibly know?

Through gritted teeth, I answered, "She's a grown woman with hands and feet of her own. Why would I know where she goes? I'm not her mother!"

Not getting the answer he wanted, Hubert's eyes turned vicious. He released my hair only to strike me hard across the face, the blow leaving my head ringing. Rage flared through me—yet beneath it, an even greater anticipation stirred.

'You're angry already? You've seen nothing yet, Hubert. The worst is still waiting for you,' I muttered internally.

He loomed over me, striking my face again and again with his palm, as he sneered, "You think keeping your mouth shut means I can't deal with you?"

He reached into my pocket, pulled out my phone, and powered it on.

Holding it up to my face, he unlocked it with the facial scan, then scrolled straight into my contacts.

When he spotted my emergency contact, a cruel smile spread across his lips.

He dialed.

"Hello? What's wrong?"

On the other end, my husband, Blake, answered with his usual gentle voice.

I opened my mouth, desperate to speak—but one of the bodyguards clamped a hand over it, suffocating my words.

"You're Celestine's husband, right?"

Hubert's voice was cold, dripping with disdain.

"And who the hell are you?"

Hearing an unfamiliar man, Blake's tone sharpened, his calm was instantly replaced by unease.

Hubert met my eyes, mocking me as he replied, "I'm Celestine's ex. But don't worry—I'm married now. I've got no interest in her anymore."

There was a short silence, then Blake demanded, "Then why are you calling me with her phone?"

"No real reason. I just thought you should hear the truth about your lovely wife."

Hubert began his assault, every word a dagger meant to bury me alive.

"Do you know how she got those burn scars? She tried to set herself on fire when I dumped her and wanted to die with me. If my wife hadn't tried to save her, she'd already be ashes."

"When that failed, she threw herself at man after man, desperate for company."

"She's lived off my wife for years—sold her wedding jewelry to buy gifts for boytoys, gambled away her money, maxed out my credit cards, made my wife pay her debts."

"She even got caught playing mistress and was beaten by the man's real wife."

"Oh, and she was at the hospital recently, getting treatment for a dirty disease. If I were you, I'd go get tested."

"Tell me, doesn't it shame you to be married to a filthy woman like her? Don't you feel pathetic being cuckolded? If I were you, I'd be dead already."

Each word was venom, each sentence a blade, hacking at my dignity until nothing remained.

On the other end of the line, Blake fell into a long, chilling silence.

My heart twisted.

Since the day we married, our relationship had always been good...