His Perfect Wife Died The Day He Made Her Kneel Chapter 11

His Perfect Wife Died The Day He Made Her Kneel Chapter 11

This was the ninety-ninth time Julian Vance roamed aimlessly through the metropolitan streets.

No matter how many times he systematically scoured the area, every single time he forced himself to restart the search, a faint surge of anticipation would flare within his chest. He kept hoping, praying that he would turn a corner and see the woman who completely consumed his thoughts day and night.

“It’s been three days, Chloe… What more do you want from me?”

He slumped weakly against the leather driver’s seat, hot tears slowly blurring his vision.

The cold, sharp handsomeness that once defined his features was entirely gone. Now, his face was ghastly and hollowed-out, his silhouette shrinking noticeably after days of total biological neglect. A heavy pair of red, bloodshot eyes rimmed by dark circles exposed his mental collapse.

It felt completely unhinged. A single human being had vanished, yet he felt as though he had lost the entire

world, a suffocating wave of terror and absolute confusion closing in to swallow him whole.

Slowly, his heavy eyelids shut, and he drifted into a troubled, exhausted sleep.

The past began to flicker across his consciousness like a rapid, haunting montage.

There were sweet, intoxicating memories of him and Chloe tangled together in his bed. But there were also

violent flashbacks of them screaming at each other over minor infractions, their faces flushed with rage.

Yet, as the thoughts swirled, a sudden, violent spasm of pain tore through his chest. It was a sharp, physical

agony so intense it left him suffocating, completely unable to catch his breath. All the beautiful illusions of

their life together were rapidly slipping away, decaying with Chloe’s disappearance.

“Julian, I want to catch a flight with you. Anywhere. I want to watch the sunrise with you. I want us to

experience every single milestone together, okay?”

“Why?”

“Because… I want all my firsts to belong to you.”

He woke with a sudden, violent jolt, his lungs desperately gasping for oxygen. He instinctively let out a raspy, manic shriek into the dark car, his hands clawing at the empty space beside him to grab ahold of her.

“Chloe!”

But his hands cut through nothing but cold air. He sat frozen, staring blankly at the completely empty

passenger seat.

The fractured shards of memory grew agonizingly sharp inside his brain, yet he could no longer hold onto them. Blind with pure, unbridled rage, he began to slam his fists into the steering wheel, strike after heavy

strike.

The iron impact split his knuckles open. Crimson blood seeped out, dripping through his fingers and forming

a pooling smear across the floor mats.

“Mr. Vance, Evelyn Sterling is back.”

His assistant’s muted voice abruptly dragged him back to reality. Julian looked up through the window.

Dressed in a fragile, victimized demeanor, a heavily weeping Evelyn was stepping closer, eventually resting

her weight against the driver’s side glass.

“Julian, please… won’t you just let the Sterling family go? Are you still angry with me?”

“If you need to vent your fury, just hurt me. I’m completely willing to be your emotional trash can, as long as

it brings a smile back to your face…”

Julian stared at her with dead, frozen eyes. He lazily parted his lips to spit out a single, sharp syllable.

“Get the hell out of my sight.”

The submissive smile died on Evelyn’s face, her entire posture stiffening instantly. She had already dropped

to her knees in pure humiliation to beg, yet he remained entirely unmoved. A toxic shock of resentment

instantly flooded her chest.

“Julian, what the hell do you even see in her?!”

“If that’s what it takes to make you happy, I’m willing to change everything about myself. I’ll morph into her

body. I’ll even go under the knife and reconstruct my entire face to match hers!”

Julian’s pupils shrank into lethal pinpricks, a suffocating, predatory aura locking dead-center onto Evelyn.

“What kind of garbage makes you believe I could ever look at you?”

“The bastard child of a home-wrecking whore. If it weren’t for Chloe’s name, an entity like you wouldn’t even

carry the right to step within my field of vision.”

The cutting wor ent a sharp shock of mental agony ripping through her soul, leaving her expression

utterly desperate

He prepared to unleash a final, devastating threat, but looking down at her pathetic, broken form, a sudden,

unsettling distortion hit his brain. For a fraction of a second, he saw Chloe.

In a bizarre blur, Chloe’s past suffering seemed to overlap with the weeping girl outside, causing his iron

composure to briefly waiver.

The lethal insult dying on his tongue, his patience entirely expired.

“Get out. And don’t you dare look for me again.”

He offered a dismissive wave of his hand, shutting his eyes in deep frustration.

Suddenly, a dormant conversation flashed through his memory-a brief remark passed by a VIP host during

his night search at the city’s exclusive club.

“The eldest Miss Sterling didn’t exactly seem at peace lately, sir…”

athered from the grapevine that the newly arrived second Miss Sterling has been relentlessly bullying her.”

e narrative began to pace through his mind in a rhythmic loop, refusing to release his consciousness.

He slammed his eyes open, their depths turning razor-sharp. Stamping his foot flat against the accelerator, the Maybach’s engine shrieked as he tore back toward the establishment.

“Pull up the surveillance logs from that night. Now.”

He tracked down the VIP host, smoothly securing the raw security footage.

The digital display rendered an angle from a dark corridor corridor corner. Chloe sat sideways on a marble

windowsill, staring vacantly at the sky, until Evelyn glided into frame, her lips moving in what was clearly a

sharp, mocking taunt.

Julian’s brows knitted into a furious knot, a heavy blanket of dread settling over his heart as he pressed

playback.

Chloe pounced, grabbing her by the hair and slamming her against the floor. But the next frame made no

sense-instead of fighting back, Evelyn was deliberately throwing her entire center of gravity backward. Step

by systematic step, she launched herself straight into the dark maintenance shaft.

He hit pause, his long fingers zooming in on the screen to magnify Evelyn’s face the exact microsecond she

plunged.

There was no fear. There was no terror. Instead, her lips were curled into a bizarre, triumphant sneer.

Julian’s heart seized violently, his eyes stretching wide with an absolute, horrified disbelief.

Who smiles when they are plummeting toward concrete?

Who steps close

fatal void, pauses to evaluate the drop, and then willingly throws themselves down?

This wasn’t a malicious assault out of nowhere. This was a flawlessly engineered, calculated frame-up.

In a lightning flash, every single incident from the past two years replayed in his brain. Evelyn had

permanently occupied the role of the pure, defenseless victim, while he had never once bothered to grant

Chloe a single opportunity to explain the truth.

Julian’s fingers clamped around the tablet with such a brutal, crushing force that the glass began to

spiderweb under his knuckles. His face turned an ugly shade of iron-blue as he let out a guttural snarl. “This

data… it hasn’t been fabricated?!”

The host frantically shook his head in panic, but Julian had already booted the door open and charged out into the night.