A Dark Revenge On My Cheating Husband Chapter 04
Madeleine thought the fever had conjured a hallucination, but the sharp sting at her temple and Xzavier’s icy stare confirmed this was a cruel reality.
“Apologize,” he spoke clearly, his voice sharp and clear. “Did you not hear me?”
He took a step forward, his voice dripping with undisguised accusation. “Ella slept restlessly all night from the shock. She was delirious from a high fever! If I hadn’t stayed with her, can you even imagine what might’ve happened? The first thing she did when she woke up was beg me to go easy on you. And what did you do?”
“You stayed in her room all night?”
Madeleine’s voice was hoarse, trembling with disbelief.
Xzavier flinched at the sudden surge of despair and accusation in her eyes. He then masked his panic with an even colder tone. “She’s my sister! She was traumatized and needed someone with her. What’s the problem with that? Madeleine, look at yourself. You’re a mess!”
“Zavy, don’t be mad at Maddie…” Daniela piped up weakly at just the right moment, her face pale as she tugged at Xzavier’s sleeve. Tears welled up in her eyes fast. “It’s all my fault. I was being childish, insisting you stay with me… Maddie’s just really heartbroken. She didn’t mean any harm…”
Xzavier pulled her into his arms right away, his eyes soft with pity. His gaze shifted to Madeleine with pure disgust. “You hear that? Even now, she’s defending you! Madeleine, Ryan’s death was an accident, but that doesn’t give you the right to act recklessly!
“Go make Ella some broth to soothe her mind. Make it yourself. Consider it your apology.”
Madeleine’s hands at her sides curled into fists suddenly, her fingertips cold. A sharp, stinging ache shot straight to her nose.
In a daze, she felt like she was back to right after their wedding.
Back then, he had a stomach problem. She’d clumsily burned her hand trying to cook him some broth.
He’d grabbed her hand, blowing on the burn and rubbing it gently, his eyes glistening with tears. “Your hands are so delicate. You shouldn’t be doing this. You’re never setting foot in the kitchen again!”
That command had become a sweet rule she’d followed for years.
Now, the man who’d made the rule was personally breaking it for another woman.
She didn’t argue. She dragged her aching body into the kitchen in silence.
Steam billowed up, scalding the back of her hand and causing some painful blisters.
But the burning on her skin paled in comparison to the raw, hollow ache in her chest.
When she returned, carrying the steaming bowl, Xzavier’s attention never wavered from Daniela.
He took the bowl from her, carefully blowing on it to cool it down. Then, right in front of Madeleine, he raised the spoon to Daniela’s lips.
Daniela looked up, darting a quick but venomous glance at Madeleine over Xzavier’s shoulder.
Then she leaned in toward the spoon, only to let out a sudden shriek and knock the bowl flying hard!
Most of the scalding liquid splashed directly onto Madeleine’s forearm before she could move.
A terrible burning pain shot through her skin instantly. Her entire forearm turned bright red and swollen, covered in a cluster of blisters.
“Zavy! It burns!”
Daniela clapped a hand over her mouth and burst into tears. “Did Maddie do this on purpose? Does she still hate me that much? My mouth… It hurts so bad!”
Xzavier’s face darkened instantly. Without even glancing at the ruin of Madeleine’s injured arm, he urgently cupped Daniela’s face. “Ella, don’t be scared! Let me take a look!”
He actually leaned in and blew gently on her perfectly unharmed lips, his voice soft. “The pain’s gone now, see? I’m blowing on it. You’ll be okay…”
The sight of their foreheads touching, their breaths mingling together, made Madeleine’s heart ache greatly.
The searing pain in her arm was nothing compared to this agony.
After soothing the sniffling Daniela, Xzavier turned around.
He glanced at Madeleine’s ruined arm, frowned in disgust, and then lifted his chin at the bodyguards.
“Grab her.”
Madeleine’s eyes widened in horror. “What … are you going to do?”
Xzavier’s voice was calm yet chilling. “You need to pay for your mistake. You hurt Ella. You terrified her…”
He paused, then gave the order clearly, “Slap her. Twenty times. Make sure she remembers what she can and cannot do.”
The bodyguards stepped forward expressionlessly, pinning Madeleine down easily from both sides as she struggled weakly.
One of them raised his hand and slapped her across the face.
The first slap rang out loud and clear, jolting her head to the side. The barely-healed wound on her forehead split open, oozing tiny streaks of blood.
The blows kept coming, one after another, heavy and methodical.
At first, it was a searing sting. Then it quickly turned into a dull, numbing ache. Her ears were ringing, and her vision started blurring.
Blood and saliva trickled from her split lip, mixing with sweat or tears—she couldn’t tell.
Xzavier just stood there coldly, his arm wrapped around Daniela.
When the last slap landed and the bodyguards let go of the limp Madeleine, Xzavier turned his head and asked Daniela softly, “Does that make you feel better?”
Daniela buried her face in his chest and nodded slowly.
She lifted her head from his chest and quickly glanced at Madeleine, who was in a messy state on the floor. A flicker of triumph and smug satisfaction flashed in her eyes.
“Come on. I’ll take you to the hospital to get checked out. Don’t let it get infected.”
Xzavier wrapped his arm around Daniela and walked out without looking back.
The heavy door closed, shutting out everything.
Madeleine looked around the familiar house and let out a bitter, broken laugh.
Back in the bedroom, she dragged a dusty storage box from under the bed.
Inside lay faded stuffed animals, tattered fairy-tale books, an old photo of the two of them huddled together at the orphanage, and all the little things he’d given her over the years that she’d treasured: brooches, hair clips, a souvenir mug with her name on it…
She sat on the floor, placing each item into an empty cardboard box one by one.
Her movements were slow and gentle.
Then she picked up the box, walked down the stairs, and stepped out of the place that had once been her home.
In the corner of the yard, she doused everything inside the box with gasoline.
The lighter flicked to life, producing a tiny blue flame.
The flame arced through the air before landing in the box as she decisively tossed it onto it.
The firelight illuminated her pale, calm face, burning away the last traces of warmth left in her heart.
She pulled out her phone and sent a text to her lawyer, “Draw up the divorce papers. Make it fast.”
