VENGEANCE AS CRUEL AS HIS LOVE의 모든 챕터: 챕터 51 - 챕터 60

JENNIFER’S POVI wrapped my arms around myself as I stood on the highest rooftop of the Croft mansion, staring down at the sleeping city lights of Texas.From up here, life looked smaller, so small that I wondered how someone could lose everything and the world would still go on as if nothing had happened. Maybe that’s why I came up here tonight: to understand how life could still glow when mine felt so empty.Six months. It has been six unforgiving, emotionally draining months since Peculiar died. The innocent soul I knew bled out on a cold floor. And since then, our lives have shifted into something unrecognizable.Nothing remained the same.I rested my palms against the cold railing, my eyes fixed on nothing. The beauty of the night didn’t touch me; it felt like glass“What might be out there for someone whose life feels this empty?” I whispered into the wind.The night didn’t answer.My heart did.It reminded me how everything in my life had become a giant void, black with an empt

JENNIFER’S POVThe moment we pulled into the driveway of the mansion, my hands were trembling so violently that I could barely open the car door. Croft’s sharp gaze followed me, but he didn’t comment. He just opened the car door, waiting for me to get out. My legs felt like they were made of lead, every step heavy and every breath shallow.“Jennifer,” Croft said quietly as I reached the front steps. “You need to calm down before you walk inside. Pace yourself.”I shook my head, barely able to form words. “I… I can’t calm down, Croft.”He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Jennifer, listen to me. You need to get inside. Safe. Then we’ll talk.”I nodded but still felt empty. The mansion felt impossibly quiet as I walked in, the air heavy with unspoken tension. My thoughts were consumed entirely by the image of Stanley: his cold eyes, the way he had watched us, the deliberate movement, the presence that had made my skin crawl.“Mom,” I said shakily the moment I saw her in the livin

STANLEY’S POVThe moment I closed the door to my private room, I let out a low, guttural laugh that bounced off the walls. The sound startled me at first, but then I smiled, savoring the moment.Oh, how deliciously satisfying it was to know that my little display at the cemetery had already begun to gnaw at Jennifer’s mind.I kicked off the all-black shoes I’d worn for the show, loosening the laces lazily, my movements deliberate, like a predator winding down after a hunt. I pulled off the jacket and shirt, the fabric sliding from my skin as I laughed again, deep and unrestrained. My cap followed, tossed carelessly onto the floor. Even the gloves were discarded with a flick of my fingers.By now, I believed everyone, including Jennifer herself, would think she was losing her mind. She’d start questioning her own senses, doubting her reality, and second-guessing her instincts. And that was the sweet part. Oh, it wasn’t just about fear. It was psychological domination. It was watching t

JENNIFER’S POVSix days later…I never imagined I would ever sit in front of a therapist. Not Jennifer: the girl who carried everyone else’s pain like it was her duty, who endured Stanley’s abuse and kept quiet when life tore her apart.But today, here I was, sitting in the most elegant, quiet office I had ever stepped into.Croft had arranged everything, paid in full, and insisted I go. After crying for two nights straight, unable to sleep and breathe normally, I finally agreed.The therapist, Dr. Meredith Hayes, was one of the best and most expensive in Texas. She sat opposite me in a white lounge chair that looked softer than clouds. Everything about her felt calm. Her office smelled of vanilla and old books. Soft piano music played somewhere from unseen speakers.And I felt like a cracked mirror, a broken version of myself scattered across the room.She smiled gently. “Jennifer, whenever you’re ready, you can start from anywhere.”I clasped my trembling fingers together as I spoke

CROFT’S POV The moment I saw my parents standing beside Jennifer, something inside me snapped. Their faces wore the kind of sympathy you practiced in front of a mirror, light enough to appear concerned, cold enough to avoid sincerity. They hadn’t visited the house since their last visit, which was two months ago. They didn’t check on my future wife, the woman mourning a child who didn’t deserve to die.Yet suddenly, they appeared at the cemetery?I could practically taste the hypocrisy.“Mom. Dad.” My voice felt like a blade. “Not here.”Their expressions flickered, surprise slipping through their polished masks. My mother gave Jennifer a gentle squeeze as if that made her saintly. My father stepped closer, clearing his throat like a man preparing for a speech.“No,” I repeated. “Follow me.”I didn’t wait for their agreement. I turned and walked toward a quieter spot behind the old marble crucifix. The grass there was dry, undisturbed, and the wind was softer. They came after me slow