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The Ex's Nightmare Novel Cover

The Ex's Nightmare

It was the coldest winter in Boland when I fell in love with my best friend's older brother-that gentle, refined Jeffrey Tucker. To protect me, he not only betrayed his family but also stepped in front of acid thrown by an enemy, his back still scarred to this day. I thought we would love each other forever. Until just before our wedding, a pregnant noblewoman showed up at our doorstep. "Are you Ms. Smith? I heard Jeffrey turned against everyone for you." The woman said with a sneer, tossing a prenatal report on the table. "He told me a girl who ran with street gangs like you would never fit in. His kindness to you was just an act." I slapped her in response. As she shrieked, Jeffrey grabbed my wrist before I could strike again. I didn't cry or scream. I just looked at him, calm as ice. "Jeffery, let's break up. You're really filthy."
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Chapter 5

Jeffrey had lost his mind.

He searched at the foot of the cliff for seven whole days and nights.

He used all of the Tucker family's connections and even hired over a dozen professional search teams.

He was determined to find me, dead or alive.

But the vast ocean yielded nothing except the shoes by the shore.

The police ultimately concluded: Cynthia Smith was most likely dead, her body lost to the sea.

That grand, century-wedding became the laughingstock of all Boland.

Maisie stood disheveled in the wind in her wedding gown.

Jeffrey did not even glance at her and directly canceled all subsequent ceremonies.

He shut himself in the villa all day, drowning his sorrows with alcohol while clutching my shoes.

"Cynthia… come back… I won't force you anymore…"

"As long as you're alive, I'll listen to everything you say…"

He cried like a baby.

Meanwhile, on a private island in Southland, the sun was blinding.

I lay on the hospital bed, receiving the best possible treatment.

The impact of the fall had broken two of my ribs, but that pain was nothing compared to the ache in my heart.

I cut my hair short and dyed it a sleek silver-gray.

The woman in the mirror had the last trace of softness in her eyes completely gone, replaced by a chilling coldness.

The door opened.

Caleb walked in.

He wore a dark gray suit, held a document in his hand, and looked at me with amused eyes.

"Ms. Smith, or should I say… Queen? Jeffrey nearly drained the waters off Boland searching for you. You see, he still loves you."

I gave a cold laugh and took the water glass he offered.

"Love? This kind of love makes me sick."

I looked straight at Caleb and got to the point.

"Mr. Jackson, let's speak plainly. I'll help you take down the Tucker family. You provide me with a new identity and seed funding."

Caleb raised an eyebrow. "Jeffrey is your old flame. Can you bear to do it?"

"Precisely because he was my old lover, I know exactly where his weaknesses lie."

A flicker of killing intent passed through my eyes.

"I want him to watch helplessly as the business empire he's so proud of crumbles bit by bit before his eyes."

Caleb looked at this wild and dangerous woman before him.

He extended his hand, a trace of admiration curling at the corner of his mouth.

"Deal."

"Pleasure doing business, Queen."

Meanwhile, at the Tucker residence in Boland.

Maisie tried to win Jeffrey back using their child.

She entered the study carrying chicken soup, her voice soft and seductive. "Jeffrey, the dead cannot come back to life. You still have me, and our child…"

Slap!

Jeffrey suddenly swung his arm, sending the soup splattering across the floor.

His eyes were bloodshot as he stared at Maisie with disgust.

"If it weren't for this child, I never would have let her suffer those grievances! If it weren't for your relentless pressure, she would never have jumped! Get out! All of you, get out!"

Maisie fell to the floor in fright, her face pale.

She finally realized that Cynthia was dead, but that dead woman had become the indelible mark forever etched on Jeffrey's heart.

She had become a ghost Maisie could never defeat.

Late at night, while sorting through my belongings, Jeffrey found a small box under the bed.

He opened it.

Inside were the fragments of the pocket watch that had been smashed back then.

And an old cell phone.

It was the old phone he had personally given me.

Jeffrey's hands trembled as he plugged it in to charge and turned it on.

An unread voice message popped up.

It was the one my brother had sent before his death, which I had set to deliver at a scheduled time.

The time was today.

Jeffrey clicked on it.

My brother's weak, despairing voice echoed in the empty room.

"Cynthia… Jeffrey was the one who leaked the coordinates… He wanted to destroy you…"

Jeffrey's face instantly turned deathly pale.

The phone slipped from his hand.

He covered his face and let out a cry of anguish, choked with utter despair.

So that was it…

Cynthia had known everything before she died.

She had jumped into that cold ocean carrying her hatred for him, carrying her despair.

"Cynthia… I'm sorry…"

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