The Ex-Wife's Burning Elegance

"So this is your idea of kindness? Not giving a damn about how I feel, and trying to cripple my friend in the process?"

Candida's voice was icy. "If that's what you call kindness... then your kindness is terrifying."

She didn't waste words demanding explanations for broken promises or passionate declarations made in better days. Love, once gone, leaves those promises as empty as blank paper.

Her gaze was fixed on Karl-cold, devoid of even the faintest trace of feeling. There was only the chill you'd reserve for someone you couldn't stand.

"Karl, I never owed you anything. If anything, you're the one who owes me. So today, let's call it even."

With that, she turned to Joshua. "Go ahead."

Joshua stepped forward.

Karl watched him approach and let out a scornful laugh. "You think you can take me on?"

He barely finished the sentence before a fist came flying at him, fast as lightning. If Karl hadn't trained before, he wouldn't have stood a chance. He instinctively raised his hand to block, forgetting that his palm had already been run through with a knife-the hand was useless.

But Joshua wasn't aiming for Karl's face. He grabbed the hilt of the knife still stuck in Karl's hand, a cruel, predatory smile twisting his lips. With a sharp turn of his wrist, he carved a slow, agonizing circle in Karl's palm.

Cold sweat broke out instantly on Karl's forehead.

To his credit, Karl didn't scream. He gritted his teeth and held the pain in, stubbornly refusing to give Joshua the satisfaction.

He was just about to retaliate when a sudden, blinding pain shot through his shin —Joshua had kicked him, hard, right in the most fragile part of his leg.

Karl's knee buckled; he dropped, kneeling on the hard floor.

Joshua didn't give him even a second to recover. He landed a savage kick to Karl's face, knocking him flat.

They say you shouldn't hit a man in the face, but Joshua seemed to take special pleasure in doing just that. He pressed his cheap, battered sneaker into Karl's cheek, grinding it in.

"Alright, that's enough," Joshua called out, glancing back. "If I knock him out cold, your revenge won't feel nearly as good."

Humiliation burned hotter than pain.

Karl-who'd grown up having

everything, who could spot a designer brand from across the room recognized the filthy sneakers pinning his face to the floor. They were bargain-bin cheap, the kind he'd never have been

caught dead in.

Now, here he was, crushed beneath someone so beneath him, with everyone watching. The shame was unbearable.

Candida approached, her expression unreadable. She looked down at Karl the way he used to look at her when he thought she was beneath him—like something unpleasant stuck to his shoe.

Karl fought to swallow the pain, jaw clenched. "Candida, after all these years together... could you really do this to me?"

A small, cold smile crossed her lips. "I cared for you, saw to your every need when you were blind, never asking for anything in return. And. you still managed to hurt me. What exactly have you ever done for me that should stop me now?"

Karl wanted to protest—to remind her of the extravagant proposal he'd thrown the city-wide fireworks on her birthday, how he'd never let anyone insult her. Didn't any of that count? noveldrama

But before he could get the words out, Candida's cane came down, slamming into his injured hand.

Pain exploded through him, ten times worse than anything he'd felt before. He couldn't hold back anymore—a strangled scream tore out.

Candida didn't even flinch. "Does it hurt? Good. Maybe next time, think about what it feels like before you inflict it on someone else."