Married To My Ex-Husband’s Rival by Jobet GraySon

Chapter 128

Third–person POV

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Marlene sat in the dimly lit room, the glow of the screen illuminating her face as she watched the video of Amber’s accident, the images playing out in a never–ending loop. Her eyes were glazed over with a manic intensity as she replayed the moment of impact, finding a perverse sense of joy in the destruction that unfolded before her eyes.

As the video played on, Marlene’s fingernails absentmindedly picked at the skin of her palm, a nervous tic that had become more pronounced in her moments of heightened emotion. Her breaths came in shallow gasps, her mind consumed by a twisted fixation on the sight of Amber’s car tumbling helplessly

a cruel smile playing on her lips as she whispered, “Die, die, die,” like an incantation that echoed

in the stillness of the room.

Dark circles ringed in her bloodshot eyes, a testament to the sleepless nights she had experienced in the past few days while obsessing over her vendetta against her older sister.

Ever since Angela’s call informing her of the successful attempt on Amber’s life, Marlene has been

consumed by a single–minded obsession with seeing her sister’s demise, a deep–seated desire for

closure that gnawed at her like a festering wound.

Her people had been dispatched to gather information on Amber’s condition, their sole purpose being

to bring her news of the one thing Marlene craved above all else: confirmation of Amber’s death. To

Marlene, only with Amber’s death came the promise of peace and vindication, a beautiful end that she

believed would finally free her from the suffocating weight of her sister’s existence.

But as she watched the video, a drop of blood splattered onto the screen of her phone, and a sudden

jolt of pain broke through her manic reverie. Marlene’s gaze dropped to her hand, her eyes widening

as she saw the raw, bloody spot where

by a primal urge to see Amber’s

rage swept through her, a primal fury that pulsed through her veins like wildfire. “She’s not dead yet, she’s not dead yet, Marlene chanted, the words a frenzied litany

much alive, like a thorn in her side,

the brink of madness as she grappled with

of rage and despair. Without warning, she snatched her phone from the bed and hurled it

surroundings. With wild abandon, she

grew thick with the

shattering glass and splintering wood

die, die,” a chilling litany of hatred

unchecked, mingling with the streaks of rage that painted her cheeks as she continued on an outrage. Her cries grew louder,

find peace until you’re dead, Amber!” She screamed, her

to her knees and crawled beneath her bed. Shadows danced in the dim light, casting twisted shapes across the room as Marlene’s mind played cruel tricks on her fractured psyche.

filled the room, a cruel echo that reverberated in the empty spaces of her mind as Amber’s voice twisted with malice, calling Marlene a coward, a failure, a wretched creature unworthy of love

the tormenting voices that echoed in her ears. The weight of Amber’s cruel words

was within reach. In that moment, she felt a sense of helplessness hit her hard as she

as she held it close to her wrist and was about to let it tear into her

vaalisation Aliaknend in har MURA

a spark of

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senses at the last minute, Marlene threw the glass away, the shard clattering to

her what she could have

to her a few months ago, “I’ll

Start

like the good old days,” and

like she had

streaming profusely down her cheeks as she crumpled to the ground, her ragged sobs mingling with the

room, and tears streamed down her

that consumed her

room, jolting Marlene out of her