Trading My Ex for His Uncle



Nathaniel sneered, gripping Rebecca's chin tightly. "You're living in hell, and so am I. But I won't let you die. I'll keep torturing you, so you can feel my pain!"

Seeing the madness in his eyes, Rebecca suddenly slapped his hand away and screamed, "You're crazy! You're a psycho!"

Nathaniel smirked. "Yeah, I'm a psychopath. So don't even think about escaping me."

His cruel, twisted expression was like a web, trapping Rebecca with no chance of escape.

On the brink of insanity, Rebecca cursed at him loudly.

The curses soon morphed into screams that echoed through the basement.

After what felt like an eternity, Nathaniel finally vented his rage, throwing down the belt and standing up to leave.

Rebecca lay on the floor, barely clinging to life, her gaze full of hatred.

Suddenly, her eyes flickered to a key peeking out from Nathaniel's suit pocket. A glint flashed in her eyes.

She grabbed onto his leg, her voice trembling. "Nathaniel... please, let me go. I promise I won't run again."

Nathaniel coldly chuckled and kicked her away. "I've got business to attend to. Don't dirty my clothes."noveldrama

Rebecca crashed to the ground, but it seemed she didn't feel the pain. She crawled toward him again, begging, "Nathaniel... don't leave... Please... let me go..."

However, Nathaniel didn't even turn around as he left the basement.

As the door slammed shut, the basement was once again silent.

Rebecca looked down. In her left hand, she tightly gripped the key. She bit her lip, forcing herself to crawl up with difficulty. She had to escape this madman!

She wouldn't let Sullivan off, either.

et

He was just a dog she had raised now he dared to bite her back?

and

He deserved to die.

After leaving the basement, Nathaniel went straight to his business meeting.

The maid arrived with Rebecca's meal. Upon seeing Rebecca lying on the floor, weaker than before, there

was no sympathy in her eyes

UMS

In the past whenever Nathaniel beat Rebecca, she would vent her anger on the maids. If it weren't for their salaries, they would've left long ago.

"Eat your food," the maid said, placing the meal on the floor before turning to leave.

"Wait," Rebecca suddenly said. Her voice was hoarse. "I need you to do something for me."

The maid turned around impatiently. "Mrs. Preston, I can't help you. If Mr. Preston finds out, he won't let me off."

"Don't worry. He won't find out. If you help me, you can pick any jewelry from my vanity," Rebecca tempted.

The maid hesitated, but her interest was piqued. "Are you serious?"

"Of course. If I'm lying, may lightning strike me dead," Rebecca vowed.

After hearing her curse like that, the maid finally believed her. "What do you need me to do?"

"Come closer. I'm too weak to speak loudly," Rebecca requested.

The maid pursed her lips but approached her anyway, crouching down. "Can you speak now?"

"Closer," Rebecca urged.

The maid's patience was wearing thin, but she moved a little closer, muttering, "Hurry up, I've got things to do—"

Before she could finish speaking, her eyes widened in disbelief as she fell backward, staring at the bowl in Rebecca's hands.