The Invisible Wife Turned Savage novel Chapter 85

Chapter 85 White Foam, Red Rage

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Finished

In the three years of marriage, Estella had seen Nathaniel lose control more than once. His chronic physical pain had twisted his temper into something volatile. He would erupt in fury over the smallest things, push her, yell, and throw insults like daggers.

But even at his worst-until now-he had never looked at her like this.

Tonight, for the first time, she saw it in his eyes. That unmistakable, undisguised intent to kill.

It was a look that turned her blood to ice.

Horrifying headlines about murdered wives flashed across her mind. Her legs went weak with

terror.

Nathaniel shoved the door open inch by inch. She opened her mouth, ready to scream-but his hand shot out and crushed her throat before she could make a sound.

Air. She couldn’t breathe.

She clawed at him, kicking and thrashing, but it was like being pinned by a monster.

Then he yanked her by the arm, dragging her across the floor like she weighed nothing.

In the bathroom, he grabbed a wet towel and wrapped it tight around her face. She choked and gasped, her lungs screaming for air.

Then came the slap.

A sharp crack echoed through the tiled room.

He slapped her again.

And again.

And again.

“Talk!” he roared. “You think I don’t know what you’ve been doing behind my back? I gave you everything! And you pay me back by cheating?”

Each accusation landed with another slap. Her vision swam. Her ears rang. Her face was on fire. Her mind was spiraling.

She crumpled to the floor, trembling. The icy tiles beneath her back sent jolts of cold spine. But that pain was nothing compared to the searing burn across her cheeks.

up

her

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Then-her hand brushed something.

A boule of body wash.

Without thinking, without hesitation, she grabbed it.

And threw it.

Hard.

The plastic bottle slammed into his temple, bursting open. Foam flew everywhere.

Nathaniel staggered.

Then collapsed.

Hard.

He didn’t move.

Estella froze. Her breath caught.

But the next second, survival instinct kicked in.

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She scrambled to her feet, stumbled to the door, and slammed it shut behind her. Her hands shook as she locked it from the outside.

Then she backed against it, heart pounding, chest heaving.

Only when she was sure he wasn’t following did she run to another guest room. She locked that one too-and shoved a chair under the handle just to be sure.

She didn’t sleep.

She couldn’t.

All night, she lay in the dark, waiting for footsteps.

The next morning, a knock came at the door.

Estella quickly slipped on a mask before opening it.

It was Zelda, frowning with concern.

“Did

you and Mr. Hartwell fight last night? He had some bruises this morning-he already went

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Chapter 85 White Foam, Red Rage

to the hospital.”

Estella said nothing. There was no point.

The villa was well soundproofed. Zelda hadn’t heard a thing.

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