“You’re nothing more than Joanie’s dog, Vernon,” I spat each word out clearly, my voice sharp as a blade. “If Ernest knew he had made a mistake leaving everything in your hands, he would crawl out of his coffin just to drag you down with him!”

“After all,” I added with a smirk, “the Browetts are utterly ruined now!”

In the next instant, his hand clamped down on my throat, and my breath was stolen.

Oxygen drained from my lungs as I met his bloodshot eyes. His voice, guttural and deranged, roared against my ears.

“Don’t think for a second I won’t kill you, Keyshia! You’re nothing but the family’s dog!”

With that, he slammed me to the floor. My body hit the shards of broken champagne glass, every jagged edge piercing my skin, slicing open countless stinging cuts.

A violent shudder wracked me. And before I could recover, he yanked my hair back, forcing my head up.

“When I tell you to beg, you beg! When I want you dead, you die!”

His lips curved into a twisted smile.

“But tonight, lucky for you, I’m not really in the mood to kill you just yet.”

“After all…” He patted my cheek, his voice low and taunting. “A toy this exquisite—how could I possibly let it break so easily? Don’t you agree?”

I stared at his face, so close to mine.

And suddenly, Joanie’s voice echoed in my memory, a video she had once sent me, her tone dripping with triumph.

‘I just told Vernon that Wiggle was scary, and guess what? He skinned your dog alive for me.’

‘Say, what if next time I tell him that you’re frightening, too? Do you think Vernon will peel your skin off as well?’

‘Gosh! That’d be hilarious!’’

‘Listen, you bitch. You may be his wife on paper, but you’re not even worth a servant!’

The memory seared through me as I stared at Vernon. My throat burned with something metallic. And just as his palm came down to strike my face again, I spat a mouthful of blood right across his fucking face.

For a fleeting second, his expression twisted from shock to revulsion, to sheer disgust.

“I agree, Vernon,” I said.

“How could you possibly die so soon?” I mimicked his tone and laughed like he did. “After all, a game this entertaining deserves to be played until the very end.”

Little did he know, I had come back for a reason.

I never planned on sparing the Browetts. I had sworn, the ones who murdered my Wiggle would pay! Every last one of them!

Wiggle’s death had been too cruel… too merciless. How could I ever forgive them?

Seeing me defiant even now, Vernon abruptly released my hair and wiped the blood from his face.

“You’re right,” he sneered coldly. “Some things… shouldn’t be rushed. They’re better savored… like slow torture.”

His eyes locked on mine, brimming with malice. “Since you’ve shown your face in front of me again, let’s play this game well.”

He turned away without another glance and barked an order to the guards.

“Keep an eye on her. Don’t let her escape.”

Then, just like flipping a switch, he softened his expression as he turned toward Joanie with tender concern.

“Does it hurt?” he asked gently, brushing away the tears streaking her cheeks. “Come, I’ll take you to a private room.”

Joanie collapsed into his arms, sobbing pitifully.

“With you here, it doesn’t hurt anymore,” she whispered between choking sobs. “As long as I have you, I’m not afraid of anything.”

I could only watch as Vernon carried her away, cradled delicately in his arms.

Meanwhile, I sat slumped on the floor, my body wracked with pain, every shallow cut burning against my skin.

Around me, the sycophants began throwing out their cruel remarks.

“Who knows where this trash crawled out from, daring to lay a hand on Vernon Browett? She should count herself lucky he didn’t kill her outright tonight. Fool, take what’s left of your pitiful life and get lost!”

“That’s right! I’ve heard the stories—you’re nothing but a stray Ernest dragged in from the streets. He raised you out of pity, and this is how you repay him? Turning against Joanie? Jeez, you deserve to be thrown out like the trash you are!”

“Oh, speaking of which,” someone snickered as he unlocked his phone, “I still have that video from five years ago—her dog getting murdered.”

He scrolled through his album until he found it. The others crowded closer, grinning with morbid excitement.

“Show me!”

“I want to watch it, too!”

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!”