My Double Kills Me, So My Husband Kills Her

Chapter 7

I lay on the ground, motionless.

My scalp was torn and raw where my hair had been burned away. My face, swollen, bloodied, mangled beyond recognition, was a horror show.

Blood still poured from the gaping wound where my tongue had been cut out.

Alexander didn't even recognize me.

His eyes landed on me with a flicker of disgust, like he was looking at something rotting on the side of the road.

He didn't look twice.

Instead, he turned back to Olivia, his expression softening into adoration.

"You did well," he said, his voice smooth.

"But next time, don't do it yourself. I'd be devastated if you got hurt... especially that beautiful face."

He lifted his hand to stroke her cheek, gazing at her like she was the most precious thing in the world.

And just like that, without sparing me another glance, he turned to his men and said coldly:

"Dig a hole. Bury her outside the walls, I don't want her polluting my courtyard."

Two bodyguards immediately grabbed my limp body and dragged it away.

Alexander's eyes wandered back up to my bedroom window.

Waiting.

Watching.

But when nothing happened, no curtain twitch, no shocked expression, his mood started to sour.

His gaze darkened.

Then he pulled out his phone and said, voice sharp, "Bring the food from the car."

Moments later, his driver came running over with several insulated containers.

Alexander set the table in the courtyard, laying out dish after dish, every single one tailored to my tastes.

Olivia's eyes sparkled.

"Alex, you're amazing. You even had a special meal prepared for me?"

Alexander didn't look at her. His eyes were still locked on the window as he said, loudly:

"You must be exhausted after punishing that woman. It broke my heart."

He then picked up a spoon and began feeding her, bite by bite.

He'd always been cold, distant, dominant, yes, but never doting.

This was the first time he acted like a gentle, attentive lover.

Olivia was glowing, completely overwhelmed by his tenderness.

Her friends stood nearby, whispering among themselves, their voices dripping with envy:

"Told you Mr. Holt would feel bad. Olivia really worked hard punishing that woman."

"She's so lucky... Mr. Holt is loyal and devoted."

"That surgery freak really thought she could steal Mr. Holt? What a joke."

"No one could ever take Olivia's place in his heart."

Under everyone's envious gazes, Olivia finished the meal, beaming with joy.

But Alexander grew more and more distracted.

His eyes kept drifting back to the villa, to that window, over and over again.

He was putting on a show.

For me.

He wanted me to see. To be jealous. To suffer.

"Mr. Holt, the body's been buried," the two bodyguards reported as they returned.

Still no reaction from the window.

Alexander suddenly stood, tension radiating off him.

He raised his voice deliberately.

"Olivia," he said, "I'll take you to the Holt estate right now."

"If you like it, you can move in today."

Olivia gasped in delight, practically bouncing on her toes. She clutched his arm eagerly.

"Let's go! I've been dreaming of this day!"

Alexander let her pull him toward the gate, but his gaze never left the villa.

Still nothing.

That silence, that lack of reaction, it was driving him insane.

Halfway to the gate, he suddenly stopped.

He jerked his arm free from Olivia's grasp and turned back around.

Stormed into the villa.

He flung open the bedroom door, voice low, sharp, almost trembling:

"Do you really not care at all...?"

But the room was empty.

He froze.

His eyes scanned the space, then again, more frantic this time.

He tore through the villa, searching every corner, refusing to believe what was right in front of him.

I was gone.

When he finally walked back outside, his eyes were wild as they locked onto Olivia.

His voice dropped, cold and dangerous.

"Where's the girl who was in the villa?"

Olivia blinked in confusion.

"What girl? Besides that plastic surgery freak who copied my face, I didn't see anyone else."