My Husband Begged to Leave Me for His Dead Ex on My Deathbed Chapter 11

My Husband Begged to Leave Me for His Dead Ex on My Deathbed Chapter 11

I thought I’d made myself perfectly clear that night. Apparently not.

“Let me go.”

He lifted me into a wheelchair himself and pushed me from the first deck to the third.

The cruise ship was a near-exact replica of his villa. Like he thought it would make me remember the good times.

He’d built another artificial starry sky. Gems for stars.

“Stella, isn’t it beautiful?”

He showed it off, waiting for praise.

I just found it ridiculous. I didn’t give him a single glance.

His shoulders dropped.

“Stella, just say something. Please.”

I stayed silent.

He showed me a video.

Nina, in winter, forced into freezing water.

“I made her suffer a hundred times more than she made you.”

I closed my eyes. He was insane.

Ignoring him didn’t work. He’d cling to me even with disgust written all over my face.

So I tried something else—a hunger strike.

He stopped eating too. Like he was threatening me back.

He’d done this since we were kids. Whenever he was upset, he’d stop eating until I gave in and apologized. We starved for two days.

On the third day, at noon, he brought me soup.

He looked defeated. “What will it take for you to eat?”

“Let me go.”

“Anything but that.”

I knocked the bowl away. “Then take it!”

He quietly wiped the soup from my fingers. Had another bowl sent up. Ate it in front of me.

I sneered. “What happened to starving with me?”

He looked at me, silent. His eyes were unsettling. I shrank back.

He grabbed my ankle. Forced my mouth open. Fed me the warm soup mouth to mouth.

“Get off—”

He didn’t care that I was terrified. He didn’t care that it was disgusting. He fed me the entire bowl, one mouthful at a time.

“Swallow.”

He gripped my chin so I couldn’t spit it out.

“If you want me to keep feeding you this way, keep starving.”

I gave in. I started eating.

He let me move freely after that. We were close to shore by then.

He seemed to know I hated him. He didn’t hover. I spent those days thinking about how to escape.

The ship was huge, comfortable. Except for a faint smell of gasoline.

Footsteps came. I thought it was Jason.

A knife pressed to my throat.

“Stella. Long time no see.”