The Tenth Wife of the Beast King
She gave me one last lingering, deadly look before turning on her heel and walking away, her cloak sweeping behind her.
Sandra shot me a final, murderous glare—her eyes promising a slow, painful death—before scurrying like a loyal dog after Benita.
The moment they left the room, the suffocating tension broke. I let out a massive sigh of relief, my knees feeling slightly weak. I turned around to face Serena, who was still standing by the counters.
“Let’s see how you survive this, you little rat,” Serena whispered, her lips curling into a sinister, satisfied smile. “The future queen will skin you alive. I’ll be right here watching.”
Bab Populer