img The Idiot Bride And Her Crippled Tyrant  /  Chapter 3 | 30.00%
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Chapter 3

Word Count: 908    |    Released on: Today at 09:34

through the heavy wrought-iron gates of the Battle estate on Long Isl

d out and pulled

drop open, staring at the towering stone columns o

ordinated. Her worn-out sneakers, caked in dried Pennsylva

with irritation. "Keep up," he s

f the white velvet sofa, wearing a custom silk slip dress. She held a crystal nail file, carefully sha

h the double doors

muddy shoes stamped a trail of dark, filthy footprints

the cushions had caught fire. She backed away, covering her nose with her

aring at Cora. A massive, goofy grin split her face. She

d a bright orange Hermes throw pillow from th

entionally delayed. The heavy pillow grazed her shoulder a

er and white lilies exp

d off the high ceilings. He pointed a shaking finger at C

acial muscles to relax, pasting on a sickly-sweet, maternal sm

y, sticky hand. "Look how much you've grown, sweetheart

ty dress, acting as if Mavis's touch burned. She kept her eyes glued to the massiv

open a drawer in the coffee table, and dug out a che

d candy out. "If you are a good girl, you

into her mouth, sucking loudly. She let the

. She dry-heaved, pressing a hand to her chest. "

he room. They carried a heavy, outdated wedding dress covered in cheap la

re going to meet a superhero. He is going to

ith a loud pop. "Superhero?" she slurred. "C

"Fly? He can't even walk, you retard.

utting her off. She turned back t

g the lollipop onto the floor. She ran toward the maids, spinning i

entionally let her right foo

, her body flying d

in sticky red syrup and thick saliva, clamped down h

dark, sticky handpri

ipped from her throat. She raised her hand,

ng Cora's wrist mid-air. Her

voice a venomous whisper. "After tomorrow, this idiot is F

d. Beneath the veil of her messy hair, her eyes were c

ler. "Take her to the servant's quar

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