She Vowed to Kill Him for Me, Then Helped Him Propose to Another Woman Chapter 05

She Vowed to Kill Him for Me, Then Helped Him Propose to Another Woman Chapter 05

Grant had been waiting inside for a long time, having brought a group of hired thugs, and a camera had been set up in front of them.

“Claire, as long as you record a clarification video for Vivienne, I promise no one will hurt you.”

I spat at him.

“Keep dreaming.”

Grant’s face went cold.

With one glance from him, the thugs moved in and started grabbing at me.

Through my screams and struggles, they tore at my clothes, stripping them away.

Then their fists came down, one blow after another, smashing into my body.

Sloane stood to the side.

The boxing girl who had spent years in the boxing ring, who had once sworn she’d always have my back, just stood there and watched.

I curled up and covered my head, screams tearing from my throat, but I did not beg.

Only when I coughed up a mouthful of blood and there was barely a patch of unbruised skin left on me did Grant finally call the men off.

He gripped my chin.

For a split second, something like pain flickered in his eyes.

“Claire, you really are stubborn.”

Before leaving, Sloane draped a coat over me.

“Claire, don’t blame me. We were trying to save a life.”

I laughed like I had lost my mind.

Then I dragged my broken body out and wandered down the road.

Notifications popped up on my phone one after another.

Grant had issued a legal statement through his attorney, claiming that we had been separated for years, that I refused to leave because I wanted a piece of his fortune.

He slandered my unborn child as another man’s baby and claimed Vivienne had only stood up for justice that day.

The internet shifted instantly.

Everyone began romanticizing their affair as some tragic, forbidden love.

And I became the shameless legal wife who would not let go.

I was walking barefoot along the road when headlights swept over me.

It was my parents.

They had been worried and had followed me.

The moment my mother saw my battered state, she let out a cry of despair.

My father came over, lifted me steadily into his arms, and gently placed me in the car.

On the way home, he gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles went white.

Tears had already broken free.

“Those two animals!”

I lay in my mother’s arms, the light gone from my eyes.

“Mom. Dad. Maybe we should move.”

They nodded.

The car fell into a silence filled with quiet grief.

On moving day, we happened to run into Sloane’s parents.

The older couple asked warmly where we were going.

My father’s face stayed cold. He did not answer the friends he had known for years.

I rolled down the window.

A soft breeze brushed my face.

“Mr. Mercer, we’re moving.”

I said quietly.

“And after this, we’re never coming back.”