The Ex-Wife's Burning Elegance

Chapter 813

Harry suffered just as he'd been warned-enduring torment that went far beyond anything human.

His face was ruined, his hands shattered, and even his dignity was ripped away, with photos and videos taken to immortalize his humiliation.

Shame burned so fiercely inside him that, for a moment, Harry wished he were dead. But the truth was, he didn't have the courage.

When it was finally over, Harry collapsed on the floor like a gutted fish, staring up at the ceiling, utterly lifeless.

A handsome, almost angelic face leaned into his line of sight.

The man's lips curled in a gentle, harmless smile, the kind you'd expect from the boy next door.

And yet there was nothing in his demeanor to betray just how ruthless he truly

was.

Harry glanced at his own mangled hands.

Not only had the tendons been severed, but his fingers had been sliced off entirely to prevent even the slightest hope of recovery.

He would never play the violin again.

His brilliant career, his genius-destroyed.

Barely audible, he muttered, "Did Stella hire you to do this?"

far too much credit. You lost to

kindled in

not Stella, then who are you? Why are you doing this to me? Don't you realize how

wagered is none of my

but there was a dangerous glint in

you think you are, to decide whether she stays

out in an instant, replaced by cold

man was a terrifying

leave the scene, did she?"

man looked at

and

No, she didn't. But

anything-or

over

didn't.

smile returning. "Mr. Harry, aren't you the one who always believed in destroying genius before

tone softened, almost regretful, as

Harry, you should be grateful you live in

Where

but the

shiver ran

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