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

raw, bloody spot where her fingers had dug into

primal urge to

veins like wildfire. “She’s not dead yet, she’s not dead

still be very much alive, like a thorn in

driving her to the brink of madness

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

abandon, she seized anything within reach–cosmetics, pillows, perfumes, flower vases–and sent them flying across

thick with

fevered chant, “Die, Am Ound of shattering glass and splintering wood as Marlene’s voice

“Die, Amber, die, die, die,” a chilling litany of hatred that

continued on an

Amber!” She screamed, her voice shaky with anger.

convulsed, her hands reaching out in a frantic grasp as she collapsed to her knees and crawled beneath her bed. Shadows danced in the dim light, casting twisted

materialized before her, a taunting sight that haunted Marlene’s every waking moment. The sound of mocking laughter filled the room, a cruel echo that reverberated in the empty spaces of her mind

hands beating against her skull in a desperate bid to silence the tormenting voices that echoed in her ears. The weight of Amber’s cruel words bore down

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

the glass, the sharp edge cutting into her skin as she held it close to her wrist and was about to let it tear into her flesh. But in the final, fleeting moment before she succumbed

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spark of

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

on her what she could have done

recall Amber’s words to her a few months

Start

yourself again, just like the good old days,” and realize that,

cut herself again, just like she had done a few times when she was

her ragged sobs mingling with the echoes of Amber’s voice, mocking

the room, and tears streamed down

that consumed her whole being.

a loud knock reverberated through the room, jolting Marlene out of her despair.