The Rejected Wife's Secret Empire
He forcefully planted his heavy, mud-caked designer boot directly onto Aryan’s violently shaking, bare left shoulder blade.
A raw, pathetic gasp violently ripped through Aryan’s crushed windpipe. The massive weight aggressively pressed his shattered, duct-taped left arm awkwardly against his bruised ribs, sending a lethal, toxic shockwave of pure agony directly into his severely feverish brain. Singhal violently twisted his heavy heel, aggressively scraping the freezing, filthy mud deep into Aryan’s fragile, heavily bruised skin.
"Always knew you belonged in the dirt, Singhania," Singhal mocked cruelly, loudly wiping his other shoe aggressively across Aryan’s lower spine before stepping off.
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