Divorce Failed My Wife's Secret Identities Shock the World novel Chapter 875

Seizing the momentary distraction, Jaroen turned to bolt, but Maeve yanked him right back by his collar.

He let out a terrified shriek.

"The Steward of the house is an absolute psycho too!"

Ignoring his wailing, Maeve reached the end of the corridor and kicked the heavy door off its hinges.

With a powerful heave, she chucked him straight inside.

A thick, black whip cracked through the air, striking Jaroen across the shoulder. He screamed in agony.

As the dust settled, a horrifically familiar scene greeted Maeve.

She had watched Charlie get tortured in this exact room a thousand times on video.

Perfect. She had finally infiltrated the monster's lair.

The man gripping the whip was none other than The Clown.

Jaroen's back was shredded, his clothes instantly torn apart by the sheer force of the strike.

The power behind that whip was lethal.

Trembling violently, he pointed a shaking finger at the masked man. "That's the psycho steward!"

Daisy Duke was strapped to a steel chair, barely clinging to life.

A pool of thick crimson surrounded her feet.

Every single fingernail had been brutally ripped from her hands.

Seeing Maeve burst into the room, a faint glimmer of hope flickered in Daisy's lifeless eyes.

"You still with me?" Maeve asked.

A sob ripped from Daisy's throat.

"It hurts so much, Maeve!"

Maeve shifted her gaze away from her friend.

Because the masked psycho was already lashing the whip straight toward her face.

Right before it could strike, her hand shot out, catching the tail of the leather with absolute precision.

With a violent tug, she ripped the weapon completely out of his grip.

The reversal was so jarring that The Clown froze for a split second, clearly unaccustomed to anyone fighting back.

Turning his own weapon against him, she snapped the whip directly at his masked face.

The strike was blindingly fast. It shattered the mask, revealing a horribly scarred face beneath.

He was in his early thirties, not inherently ugly, but radiating a terrifying malice.

"Your grim reaper."

Before he could reach for another weapon, she lunged at him with explosive speed.

The two engaged in a savage, close-quarters brawl.

His massive size gave him a slight edge at first.

But after a dozen exchanges, he started losing ground fast.

Seizing an opening, she planted a brutal kick square in his chest, sending him flying across the room.

In that same fluid motion, her blade slashed across the unmarred side of his face.

He hit the floor, howling in agony.

Maeve stood over him, a sinister smirk on her lips.

"Now they match."

Ignoring the blood pouring from his face, he frantically reached for a weapon strapped to his leg.

Before he could draw it, her boot pinned his wrist to the floor.

She ground her heel down hard. A sickening crunch echoed through the room as his bones snapped.

Anyone who touched Charlie belonged in hell.