His Perfect Wife Died The Day He Made Her Kneel Chapter 15

His Perfect Wife Died The Day He Made Her Kneel Chapter 15

He fought the medical staff for hours inside the ward, but in the end, he hit his gas and exited the

jurisdiction.

The Julian Vance who touched down on the domestic tarmac was a completely rewritten entity.

Hollow, silent, comp ly robotic-as if his soul had been cleanly extracted, leaving nothing but an empty

vessel to execute basic biological movements.

He drove alone out to the old Sterling estate.

But the name on the deed had changed, and every trace of her existence had been systematically wiped from

the property.

He returned to the Vance mansion, locking his silhouette inside the darkest study, letting his mind slowly

decay under the weight of an unbearable grief.

Beyond the reinforced oak doors, a chaotic, aggressive yelling began to rattle the foyer, the volume

expanding exponentially as the minutes ticked by.

The veins along Julian’s jaw bulged violently with a dark rage. “Make them shut their mouths,” he snarled into

his intercom. “If another syllable clears their throats, I will ensure they lose the physiological capacity to

speak for the rest of their lives!”

His assistant carefully pried the door open, his voice tight. “Sir… it’s Robert Sterling. He forced his way onto

the driveway with Evelyn, claiming her custody under our security team resulted in unspeakable physical

trauma. He demands a massive capital settlement, or he’s bringing the authorities to our gates…”

The second the name Evelyn cleared the assistant’s mouth, a volcanic fury erupted beneath Julian’s chest.

“Settlement?! Every pillar of my existence was pulverized because of her trash games, and that house dares

to demand a settlement?!”

He bolted upright from his seat, marching out toward the foyer like a demonic force.

Robert Sterling was shouting profanities at the corporate guards, attracting a massive crowd of high-society

d paparazzi at the gates.

onlook

The exact microsecond Julian’s predatory silhouette materialized on the porch, the crowd fell into a dead,

expectant silence.

His veins bulging, his eyes locked dead-center onto Robert. “You demand a capital transfer? Or does she?”

The moment Julian’s shadow touched her path, Evelyn’s entire frame began to convulse with a raw, uncontrollable terror. Every single memory of the concrete cell flooded her brain, her knees turning to water as she frantically pulled at Robert’s sleeve. “No… stop it, Dad… let’s go back… I don’t want the money… let’s

go…!”

Robert’s expression turned incredibly ugly, his teeth grinding as he ground out an aggressive ultimatum.

“Look at the state of my daughter! What respectable family will ever accept her registry now?! You will either

sign the marriage contracts and bring her into this estate, or you will pay for her physical destruction!”

“Haha… Hahaha!”

Julian let out a low huckle that sounded completely unhinged, his smile turning increasingly lethal. “Guards.

Invite Mr. Sterling a his daughter inside the estate. Let’s… discuss the terms of this settlement in detail.”

Staring into the cold eyes of the two massive bodyguards closing in on his position, Robert’s patriarchal confidence vanished instantly. His face turning a ghastly shade of pale, he stumbled backward frantically,

screaming toward the cameras.

“Look at him! He’s a monster! He drove my eldest daughter into exile, and now he’s torturing my second

child! You won’t escape the consequences, Julian Vance!”

Julian watched their frantic, pathetic forms scramble into their vehicle and speed away, a chilling, dark

realization hitting his mind.

“I almost forgot about that other piece of human waste,” he murmured, his thoughts locking onto Victoria

Jenkins. “She polluted my wife’s environment. She deserves execution.”

Early the following morning, the high-society crowd gathered at the central city square, gasping in horror.

Bound flat against the concrete obelisk stood a completely stripped, bruised Victoria Jenkins, her features

hollow and dead, a massive placard bolted beside her frame.

The home-wrecking tramp Victoria Jenkins. Exposed for public evaluation.

It took a full three hours before a red-faced, thoroughly humiliated Robert Sterling rushed into the square, desperately cutting her loose to drag her back to their flat.

Deep within the primary Vance villa.

An inconspicuous suite sat insulated from the world, thick velvet drapes completely blocking every

microscopic ray of light. The pitch-black interior was as silent and freezing as a sepulcher, devoid of a single

ounce of human life.

Julian’s s were deeply sunken into his skull, his emaciated frame completely swallowed by the leather

sofa. ze was hollow and dead, while his long, slender fingers gave a consistent, microscopic tremor.

He hadn’t permitted his eyelids to close for forty-eight hours.

It wasn’t a choice. It was a biological impossibility.

The exact second his vision dimmed, her silhouette would materialize within his consciousness-wearing

that light blue linen dress, her hair dancing with the ocean breeze, her lips relaxed into a soft, serene smile.

He let out a long, raspy howl of absolute despair. Reaching blindly into the dark to grasp a fresh bottle of

scotch, his fingers touched nothing but empty glass. He violently hurled the bottle against the floor,

shattering it into pieces.

“Ahhhh!”

A series of raw, agonizing shrieks ripped from his throat, dark lines of blood-tears leaking from his eyes and

staining his cheeks.

rase it… I c.

erase the memory…!”

you! Are you enjoying this farce?! Why the hell are you executing this torture upon my house?!

es completely bloodshot, he slammed his fists into the solid concrete wall, the sharp, splitting pain in

knuckles doing nothing to dull the catastrophic agony tearing his soul to ribbons. Dropping to his knees

on the shards of glass, he wept like a broken child.

“Please… just tell me what baseline I need to clear… to permanently forget your face.”

The hysterical, unhinged roaring from behind the double doors left the assistant outside trembling with fear. Sensing that the suite had plunged back into a dead silence, his teeth chattering, he carefully cracked the

frame open.

“Mr. Vance… please… you must stabilize your vitals. You cannot continue down this path of total

self-destruction. The Vance Group requires your presence.”

“The Board of Directors has already formalized their displeasure. Multiple multi-billion-dollar conglomerates are waiting on your secure digital signature to execute the quarterly contracts…”

Julian slowly lifted his head, his lips moving in a silent, desperate pattern before his chin dropped back onto

his chest.

“Without Chloe Sterling… what use does this hand have for an empire?”

He murmured the finality into the dark, his voice shrinking until it was nothing but a breath. Standing up with an unstable footing, he rapidly scrawled a few lines on a notepad, threw his coat over his shoulders, and charged out into the rain.

“Mr. Vance! Where are you deploying?!”

The ass it stood frozen, running over to the desk to snatch the paper node. In a single second, his features turned a ghastly shade of white.

“Are you completely out of your mind, sir?! You cannot dissolve the Vance Group! Wait…!”