Goodbye Forever Ex-Husband (by Ammund) novel Chapter 158

Chapter 158

Chapter 158

ADRIAN’S POV

After a few more strikes, I finally lowered the hammer and stepped back, breathing calmly.

I looked down at Mrs Grayson’s fingers, now a mangled mess of twisted bone and broken nails. The skin around her knuckles had turned a dark, angry red, swollen beyond recognition. Some of her nails had torn clean off, others dangled loosely, barely hanging on. Her hands shook uncontrollably, but that didn’t stop the tears from pouring down her face like a waterfall.

She tried to scream, her mouth opening behind the duct tape, but only muffled sobs escaped. His whole body trembled violently. She’d finally reached that point–the threshold where pain morphs into trauma, where the body continues to suffer long after the mind has shut down.

I tilted my head slightly, watching her. She looked pitiful. Broken. But unfortunately for her, we weren’t done.

I turned my attention toward the other side of the table.

“Now it’s time for your turn,” I said, my voice steady, almost casual–as if we were switching players in a card game.

Mr. Grayson began shaking his head wildly, panic fully taking over now. His mouth moved behind the tape, trying to plead for mercy, but no sound came out. His eyes–once calm and calculating–were now filled with raw, unfiltered terror.

I didn’t care.

Just like I did with his wife, I raised the hammer and brought it down hard–again and again. The same sickening crunch of bones echoed through the room. His fingers, one after the other, twisted under the force, splitting open in places, turning his hands into something unrecognizable.

Sweat dripped down my brow, but I wasn’t tired. I was alive.

Blood pooled on the table beneath him, thick and dark. He shook violently, his body convulsing in shock, his face wet with tears.

But we weren’t stopping there. Not yet.

It was time to take things up a notch.

I grabbed the knife I had used earlier–the same blade that had burned into Mrs. Grayson’s skin–and placed it beside his ruined hand. I pressed his wrist down, using my forearm to keep him from pulling away. Dan stepped in to help, pinning his arm in place. Mr. Grayson’s eyes locked onto mine as I raised

the knife.

“Let this serve as a reminder,” I said. “For every hand you reached into someone else’s life and ruined… this is for them.”

Without a second thought, I began slicing.

One finger at a time.

The blade wasn’t surgical–it was ragged and already a little dull from the earlier torture. It made the process slower. Messier. More painful.

Mr. Grayson’s body writhed; and a blood–curdling scream rang out–muffled but still piercing through the room. His veins popped out of his neck, his eyes rolling back. Blood sprayed across the table, staining the wood and my gloves.

By the time I dropped the knife, only a stump remained where fingers once lived. I exhaled slowly as Dan handed me a cloth to wipe my face, which had small splatters of his blood on it.

I stood there, quietly observing him.

He was slumped, his breathing shallow, his head lolling to the side. Tears still leaked from his eyes, but they were losing focus. He was on the verge of passing out, possibly dying from blood loss.

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09:07 Mon, 23 Jun

Chapter 158

And that wasn’t the plan.

I didn’t want him dying like this. Not from shock. Not from bleeding out. That was too slow–and far too merciful.

90%

Dan reached under his shirt and pulled out the handgun he always kept tucked into his waistband. He handed it to me without saying a word. He knew

what came next.

20)

“I told you I wasn’t going to let either of you leave here alive,” I said coldly, lifting the gun and aiming it at Mr. Grayson’s head. “As much as I’d love to keep this going, I’ve got better things to do. So when you get to hell–tell the devil Adrian says hello.”

I pulled the trigger.

Her entire body shook. The bloodied remnants of her hands were trembling against the ropes. She tried to scream, to plead for her life, but her mouth was sealed tight. Still, the wet muffled cries echoed around the basement, mixing with her panicked breathing. Her eyes, red with tears, darted around the room–searching for someone, anyone, to save her.

The loud bang echoed through the basement like a final verdict from a vengeful god. Her head jerked violently to the side, and then she went still, slumping against the ropes with blood slowly dripping from the fresh hole in her temple.

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