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

The sleek black Rolls-Royce Phantom glided to a halt in front of a towering skyscraper.

Its glass façade reflected the morning sunlight, each pane sparkling as if polished by diamonds.

The building itself was an architectural marvel, a symbol of power and wealth, with its sharp, angular design, gold-accented entrance, and a cascading waterfall adorning the lobby's exterior.

The name ELIZABETH COSMETICS glimmered in bold letters above the revolving doors.

Elizabeth stepped out of the car, her cream-colored business suit tailored to perfection.

The blazer hugged her frame, emphasizing her sharp silhouette, while the pleated trousers flowed with effortless grace.

Her silk blouse shimmered faintly beneath the jacket, and a golden Cartier brooch rested on her lapel.

Her heels, a pair of cream Versace stilettos with gold accents, clicked with precision as they met the marble pavement.

A pair of oversized Dior sunglasses framed her face, highlighting her flawless complexion.

She exuded authority as she approached the grand entrance, where a line of men in tailored suits stood awaiting her arrival.

Their heads bowed in deference as she passed, yet her mood darkened further.

As she strode through the expansive lobby, its marble floors gleaming and its crystal chandeliers casting rainbows across the room, her irritation grew.

The staff, sensing her energy, straightened instinctively, their gazes lowered in fear of her scrutiny.

She scanned the sea of faces and paused, her eyes locking on a single man.

The left one bore a small but undeniable peel at the sole. Her stomach churned at the sight.

The shoe seemed to mock her, its jagged edge like a tongue sticking out. "You like what you see, Madame?" it taunted in her mind.

"Mr...." Her gaze dropped to the name tag pinned to the man's cheap, ill-fitting suit. "Chu."

She stepped closer, her heels echoing like gunfire in the stunned silence. "Do I not pay you enough?" Her voice was icy, each word cutting through the air.

The man quivered. "Y-you do, Madame," he stammered, sweat staining his collar.

"None of my employees makes less than ten thousand dollars a month.

So, tell me, what is your excuse for wearing this atrocity? Are you trying to insult me? Should I fire you over a pair of shoes?" Her tone remained calm, but the venom in her words made the man visibly shrink.

Elizabeth's gaze swept over the room like a hawk circling prey. "From now on, all employees are required to wear designer brands, even if they're knockoffs. Do you understand?"

She spotted a glint on another staff member's wrist. A fake Rolex. "That," she said, pointing, "is forgivable. Shopping at the dollar store for shoes is not."

She turned back to Mr. Chu. "You're fired," she said, her voice like steel.

Before he could respond, her sharp eyes caught another flaw. "You." She pointed at a woman in the crowd, whose face turned pale. "Step forward."

The woman hesitated, clutching her oversized suit jacket.

"The audacity," Elizabeth hissed, stepping closer. She yanked the lapel of the woman's jacket, revealing a faint coffee stain on her white blouse. "This is a cosmetics company. If my staff doesn't look immaculate, you're ruining my brand. You're fired."

She didn't wait for a response. Turning on her heel, she strode toward the private elevator, her assistants scurrying to keep up. Her voice trailed over her shoulder. "If I catch anyone else wearing trash, you're next."

The workers dispersed, their footsteps hurried, while Elizabeth disappeared behind the elevator doors, the gold trim gleaming as they closed.

The Shoe