Chapter 321
Fists and feet rained down on him, and the pain became a dull, throbbing numbness.
Chasel knew it was over. But even in defeat, he was determined to drag Penelope down with him.
He struggled to lift his head and saw her across the lot, wrapped in the arms of the man in the black coat, held so gently, as if she were a precious jewel. He gritted his teeth in hatred.
“Mr. Stapleton… she… she slept with her adoptive father… She’s trash!”
He screamed the words, even as the blows grew heavier, forcing blood from his mouth. He had to destroy her. Read complete versıon only at
“She’s a slut! Half the guys in our town have had her! Ha… You’re so high and mighty and you married a used-up tramp!”
His voice was a crazed, desperate shriek.
“She’s been filthy for years… nothing but a dirty rag from the gutter
Theodore held Penelope tighter, trying to shield her from the words, but she heard them.
“He’s lying! None of it is true!” she cried, her voice frantic as she tried to explain. He nodded quickly. “I know, sweetheart. He’s lying. I don’t believe a word of it.”
“I’m not dirty, I never slept with anyone, I never—”
“I swear, I believe you,” he said, trying to hold her gaze, to show her how unwavering his faith in her was. But she just kept repeating herself, her denials growing more desperate, more hopeless.
He had no other choice. He pulled her close and kissed her, hard. When she finally fell silent, he took off his coat and draped it over her head.
“Don’t look.”
With those words, he released her and strode toward Chasel.
Hamilton stepped in front of him, offering a cigarette.
“He’s just a cockroach. Not worth getting your shoes dirty.”
Theodore took the cigarette, took a long drag, then pushed Hamilton aside. He walked up to Chasel, who was struggling to look up at him, ready to spew more venom. With a flick of his wrist, Theodore pressed the lit end of the cigarette onto Chasel’s tongue.
“Aaargh!” he screamed, the sound muffled and wet.
Theodore exhaled a plume of smoke, then grabbed Chasel’s left hand and began to break his fingers, one by one.
“AAAAAGH!” The screams were inhuman.
When all the fingers on his left hand were broken, Theodore moved to his right.
“Mercy… please… I… I won’t do it again
His tongue was burned, and he drooled as he spoke. Covered in blood and grime, he was a pathetic, wretched sight.
Theodore let out a cold, dismissive sound. “Too late.”
He took Chasel’s right hand and continued, snapping each finger with methodical precision.
Chasel looked at the man before him, his face devoid of emotion but radiating a terrifying coldness that seemed to squeeze the air from his lungs He finally understood that he should have never, ever provoked Penelope.
With all ten fingers broken, he collapsed to the ground like the insect he was, reeking of blood and fear.
“I was wrong… I shouldn’t have hurt Mrs. Stapleton… I was wrong
He had underestimated her, and he had fatally underestimated Theodore.
“I was so wrong… please, spare me
He wept and begged. If he could move, he would have knelt before them and pleaded for his miserable life.
Theodore looked at him with
bet
ches then placed his foot on his
chest and pressed down. Blood. gushed from Chasel’s mouth.
Something inside him had broken.
“What were you saying before?” Theodore asked, his voice calm.
“I was lying… none of it… none of it was true
“Louder.”
“IT WAS ALL LIES!” Chasel screamed, his voice thick with blood.
A flicker of pure violence crossed Theodore’s eyes, but he reined it in.
He looked up and gave Hamilts 1.
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single sharp nod.