A Dark Revenge On My Cheating Husband Chapter 19
Shortly after, the internet was set ablaze by a sensational piece of news.
At exactly ten in the morning, an anonymous account simultaneously posted a forty-seven-minute video on multiple domestic and international social media platforms.
The video had a simple title: The Truth of the Wax Museum.
The opening was a scene Xzavier knew all too well-an abandoned wax museum, a rusty crane, and Ryan suspended in midair.
But this time, the angle was different; it was a complete recording from another surveillance camera hidden in the corner.
In the footage, Daniela walked up to the control panel, glancing around.
After making sure no one was there, her usual look of weakness vanished, replaced by an almost
cruel excitement.
dout, not to “accidentally knock over” the lever.
ne pushed it down forcefully and without hesitation.
rope slid down rapidly, and Ryan’s scream was heart-wrenching.
Daniela watched as the girl fell into the wax pool, and a smile even curled at the corner of her lips.
She even leaned over, watching the struggling figure in the wax pool gradually stop moving before turning to leave.
The video did not end there.
The second segment showed ten minutes after the incident.
Daniela met a man wearing a hat in an alley outside the wax museum.
“Is everything cleaned up?” the man asked.
“The surveillance footage has been deleted. Only the copy in Xzavier’s hands remains-he can’t bear to use it as evidence.”
She wanted to say something more, but Xzavier had already turned and left, never looking back.
Visitation time ended, and Daniela was escorted back to her cell block.
As she passed through the recreation area, several female inmates eyed her maliciously, exchanging glances.
“The new girl has such soft, delicate skin.”
A burly woman with a face full of scars licked her lips.
Daniela lowered her head and quickened her pace.
But what was meant to come would come.
That night, in the showers.
While Daniela was washing, someone suddenly covered her mouth from behind and dragged her into a stall.
Three people, all violent offenders from her cell block, their eyes fierce.
“Heard you used to be a rich family’s princess?” The burly woman gripped her chin. “You really do look nice.”
“Let me go…”
Daniela struggled, but the difference in strength was overwhelming.
“Let you go?” Another inmate laughed. “In here, you follow our rules. And the rule is-if you’re good-looking, you serve us.”
Daniela’s eyes widened in terror. “No… please, no…”
Her resistance only brought more punches and kicks. The agony of broken ribs, the taste of blood in her mouth, and those filthy hands roaming her body-
“Ah-!!!”
Her screams were drowned out by the sound of running water.
When it was over, Daniela was tossed onto the damp floor like a rag.
Bruises covered her body, a certain part throbbed with tearing pain, and her mouth was full of blood.
He slowly crouched down and picked up the torn family photo from the floor.
In the photo, his ten-year-old self smiled innocently, his parents holding him on either side, looking like such a happy family.
It was all fake.
Tears fell onto the photo, blurring those false smiles.
At that moment, his phone rang-it was a call from the bank.
“Mr. Kenward, three of your loans are overdue. According to the contract, our bank will apply to freeze all your accounts and initiate asset disposal procedures. Please come to the branch within 24 hours, or we will take legal action…”
Xzavier hung up, and another message came in-it was a notice from the property management: the maintenance fees for his apartment had been overdue for three months.
Xzavier was not a fool.
Once, he had given her all his tenderness.
And she had personally forced him to become like this.
“Zavy…” she murmured into the void, “I was wrong… I really was wrong… please, just let me die…”
No one answered.
Daniela’s voice was clear and distinct.
“That idiot, and he’s supposed to be a CEO. He’s unbelievably stupid.”
The man laughed: “Daniela, you’re impressive. But that kid died so miserably, her screams will haunt my nightmares.”
“Nightmares?” Daniela lit a cigarette. “Think about the money we can get any nightmare is worth it.”
The third segment was footage from a convenience store’s surveillance camera.
It clearly recorded Daniela purchasing mango powder, and the timestamp matched exactly with the day Madeleine was forced to ingest the “allergy medicine.”
Finally, there was a screenshot of a chat log.
In the conversation between Daniela and her accomplice, they meticulously planned how to frame Madeleine, how to gain Xzavier’s trust, and how to gradually drain the Kenward Group.
One line in the chat was highlighted in red: “That self-righteous Xzavier, as long as I act pitiful, he’ll believe anything. Once he’s no longer useful, I’ll kick him aside.”
Ten minutes after the video was posted, the number of shares surpassed one million.
An hour later, “Daniela Intentional Homicide” shot to the top of the trending topics, followed by the word “explosive.”
Two hours later, the Houston Police Department issued a statement: criminal coercive measures had been taken against the suspect Daniela in accordance with the law, and the case was under further investigation.
The entire internet was in an uproar.
Media outlets that once praised Daniela as a “genius girl” and a “role model” began digging into her dark past: academic fraud, school bullying during high school, and even records of theft as a minor.
And all the comments that once accused Madeleine of “envying the talented” and “suppressing juniors” were dug up and harshly criticized.
Countless people flooded Madeleine’s social media accounts to apologize, even though she hadn’t updated them in half a year.
Xzavier’s phone was bombarded with calls.
Madeleine picked up her daughter and kissed her cheek. “Kelsie, do you like it?”
“I love it!” Kelsie hugged her neck. “Mommy, why is this place called ‘Ryan”?”
The question brought an instant hush to those around them.
Many who knew the story exchanged glances, waiting for Madeleine’s answer.
Madeleine was silent for a few seconds, then softly said, “To remember an angel.”
She did not explain further, but carried her daughter into the gallery.
Alijah walked beside her, naturally holding her hand.
The three of them, under the gaze of the crowd, walked into that world filled with starlight.
The interior of the gallery was designed like a dream.
Beneath the glass floor tiles flowed projections of starlight, children’s artworks hung on the walls, and in the central hall stood a white grand piano that anyone could play at will.
Kelsie ran to the piano and clumsily pressed a few keys.
“Mommy, this sound is so beautiful!”
Madeleine walked over and sat beside her daughter. “Let me teach you a song, okay?”
“Okay!”
Madeleine took her daughter’s small hand and guided her to press a series of simple notes.
It was Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star, the first piano piece Ryan had learned.
The crisp notes echoed through the spacious hall.
Alijah stood to the side, watching his wife and daughter, his eyes full of tenderness.
He knew that there would always be a corner of Madeleine’s heart that belonged to Ryan, and to that scarred past.
But he did not mind.
Because it was those experiences that shaped the resilient and gentle woman she was now.
And they had also given him the chance to enter her life.
“Will you apologize for covering up for the murderer?”
Xzavier said nothing.
He simply nodded to the police: “I’ll go with you.”
As he walked out the door, an egg suddenly flew from the crowd and smashed against his shoulder.
Egg yolk and white slid down his shirt, sticky and disgusting.
“Accomplice to murder!” someone shouted.
“Go to hell!”
More insults and debris flew toward him.
The police shielded him as they hurried to the patrol car, but the voices still pierced his ears: “Ruined your wife’s brother for a bitch-how despicable!”
“Serves you right to go bankrupt! Serves you right to get cancer!”
“How does a man like that still have the nerve to live?”
The car door closed, shutting out the chaos outside.
Xzavier sat in the back seat, looking at his own disheveled reflection in the window, and bitter smile.
There was no name on the gravestone.
Madeleine stood there for a long time. In the end, she divided the white chrysanthemums she had brought, placing half in front of the neighboring grave.
The wind rose, stirring the petals of the white chrysanthemums.
Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves, casting dappled shadows.
Not long ago, someone told her the news that Xzavier had passed away years before.
At the time, she was in a meeting. After hanging up the phone, she continued and finished two more hours of negotiations.
She could barely remember the name anymore.
That night, after returning home, she sat alone in her study, gazing out the window until dawn.
Did she hate him?
She had once hated him.
But time had washed everything away.
The hatred faded, and the pain dulled.
What remained was only a faint sense of melancholy, and a barely noticeable… sense of release.
Release, because he was finally free.
Release, because all grudges had ended with death.
“Ryan, I’ve come to see you.”
She spoke softly, “Ryan Star Studio opened today. Many children love it. Are you happy?”
The wind brushed past, as if in reply.
She looked again at the nameless gravestone beside her.
There was no greeting, no words.
She simply stood there quietly for a while.
Then she turned and left.
