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

Silver and gold lay at her expense, and multiple workers hurried to her aid as she stepped inside.

One swiftly took her Hermès Himalayan Birkin, its rare crocodile leather shimmering under the dim lights.

Another helped her out of her limited-edition Saint Laurent fur coat, crafted from the finest chinchilla, its softness unrivaled.

A third knelt to ease her feet out of her custom Christian Louboutin heels, the rarest pair with gold embellishments and diamond-encrusted spikes.

Her bare feet trailed over the plush Persian carpet, which gave way to the cold, pristine tiles.

She paused, her sharp senses picking up on the faintest shift. The room was exactly one degree warmer than it should have been.

"Ashley," she called, her voice low yet commanding.

The tall blond man practically sprinted toward her, fumbling nervously with a glass bottle. "Ma'am, you're home. 100% filtered rainwater, boiled, sterilized, and chilled to your exact specifications in a customized glass. Just as you like," he rambled, his forehead glistening with sweat.

Elizabeth's piercing gaze flicked to him, and she raised an eyebrow. "The room," she said slowly, "is a degree too warm."

She pursed her lips as she strode toward the living room, finally plopping into her beloved loveseat, a piece she absolutely adored.

It whispered, "No one gets you like I do."

Elizabeth rested her head against its curved back. "I really don't understand," she muttered, addressing the furniture as if it were alive. "What is so hard about keeping my house temperature at exactly 72 degrees fahrenheit?"

Her laugh echoed through the room, a soft, melodic sound that made Ashley's stomach churn. He knew that laugh.

Before he could speak, she grabbed the glass water bottle from the tray and smashed it against the center table.

Shards of glass scattered like stars across the room, but she didn't stop.

"To bloody keep my house at 72 degrees fahrenheit?" she screamed, the final blow reducing the table to nothing more than shattered wood and glass.

Ashley froze, holding his breath, praying she wouldn't look at him next.

Cold and Dead