kennedydaphne900

1000 Ways to Kill My Cheating Husband: The Schizophrenia Romance

Till death do us part.

She takes that as gospel, etched into her soul. Not a promise but a command. A law. A binding truth she whispers like a prayer in the dead of night.

Elizabeth doesn’t understand love, not the fragile, conditional kind that mortals speak of. But adoration? That, she knows intimately. She adores her husband with a devotion so fierce it borders on worship. She drinks in the sight of him like he’s the last drop of water in a dying world.

He is hers, only hers. His laughter, his touch, his thoughts, even the breaths he takes while he sleeps beside her. She burns for him, her desire as endless as the oceans and as consuming as fire.

And if another woman dares to look at him, if their gaze lingers a second too long, if they think they can taste even a crumb of what is hers, she will end it. She will end them. She will end him.

Because what is hers stays hers. Forever.

But here’s the twist: Phil would never betray her. Never. He loves her.

But you don’t know that. You, the voices in her head, have seen the way he smiles at strangers. You’ve seen the late nights, the private phone calls, the scent of something unfamiliar that clings to him when he walks through the door. You feed her obsession. You feed her madness.

And she feeds you right back.

Because Elizabeth isn’t just a woman. She’s an empire. An heiress to unimaginable wealth, a daughter of power, the queen of a kingdom she can burn down with a snap of her fingers. This world bends to her will, even in her insanity. And her husband? He is bound to her by law, by blood, by destiny.

Phil doesn’t know it yet, but he belongs to her. His kind eyes, his gentle hands, his foolish heart every inch of him is hers to adore, to love, to destroy.

Phil’s job is simple: keep her sane or die trying.

But here’s the cruel joke, he’s not just her psychiatrist. He’s in love with her. Stupidly, desperately, recklessly in love.

And if he’s not careful, he might just die in love with her.

1000 WAYS TO KILL MY CHEATING HUSBAND: THE SCHIZOPHRENIA ROMANCE

I, Phil Goodman, swear never to speak a word of my wife-to-be's mental status in public.

I, Elizabeth Willows, swear to do no harm to Phil Goodman till death do us part.

Signed, Elizabeth Willows.

It was a perfect day for a wedding, the most grand event on Upper East Side's 95th Street in Manhattan, New York.

The bride, Elizabeth Willows, looked stunning, but her husband? He was something else.

"Yes, I heard he's the only one who agreed to marry her."

"I heard she's a psycho..."

Elizabeth heard their whispers but paid no heed as she graciously accepted greetings and gifts from the guests.

A bright smile was plastered on her red-painted lips. Her chocolate-brown eyes gleamed against her porcelain skin, accentuated by her fiery red hair.

Melody Brent, the supermodel everyone knew was the cause of Marla and Markody Tucker's infamous divorce, approached her. Despite Melody's notoriety, no one dared mention it publicly.

"Congratulations, dear," Melody said, her smile as acidic as her tone.

Elizabeth didn't return the smile. Instead, she glared.

"Your husband is very handsome," melody continued, as Elizabeth's eyes trailed up and down her figure.

Melody shot her a dirty look. "I mean, why would he want something like..." she paused, hiding a laugh.

Elizabeth was amused. The nerve of this woman to think they were of the same class simply because she was now engaged to the CEO of Shield.

"Something like what?" Elizabeth asked, her tone cool.

Melody beamed, her green eyes sparkling with false confidence, the same eyes that had captured countless Hollywood hearts. Elizabeth tsked inwardly.

Men have such poor taste.

A flicker of fear crossed Melody's gaze, but she masked it quickly. Deep down, she was jealous.

Elizabeth was rich, an heiress, a billionaire, and married to the man Melody had been chasing for years. After all, he wasn't called the Handsome Doctor for nothing.

Elizabeth sipped her wine, watching the party below from the rail.

Melody leaned closer, as if to intimidate her. "Does it hurt?" she whispered.

Elizabeth arched a brow, confused.

"His cock, that thing was so big in me," Melody murmured wickedly by Elizabeth's ear.

Elizabeth blinked but kept her composure.

Melody smirked. "Oh, don't look surprised, hon. A handsome man like that has had—and will always have—many women."

She stood beside Elizabeth, her orange haute couture dress a dull comparison to the magnificence of Elizabeth's wedding reception gown.

"Congratulations... Can't wait for your divorce," Melody said bitterly, bumping shoulders with her as she walked away.

Elizabeth observed the elite crowd with elegance, her gaze sweeping over the mansion's golden chandeliers and grand interiors. Slowly, she turned, taking deliberate strides toward Melody.

Melody was now engrossed in conversation with another man, shamelessly flirting. She leaned over the railing, twirling her dark hair, her large chest on full display.

In a split second, she was falling.

It was almost slow motion, the horror in her green eyes evident, as though she couldn't believe what was happening.

From above, the devil watched, sipping wine like it was a soap opera.

Melody crashed into the wedding buffet table. A scream tore through the crowd as her blood flowed over the glasses of wine, creating a macabre masterpiece.

Phil's icy blue gaze locked onto Elizabeth's dark eyes. She smiled, her lips forming the words:

A bloody reception