Divorce and Freedom No More Homemaker for Him novel Chapter 489

Chapter 489 Drawling Uncle

Finished

“Of course, what I’m really curious about is your girlfriend,” Jeremy said, eyes glinting with interest. His obsession with Draven’s life made it obvious just how badly he wanted to know everything about Ayla. “Ayla, right? God, I seriously wanna meet her. What kind of woman gets involved with a full–blown sociopath like you?”

Jeremy’s vibe was all wrong. Even in a sharp custom suit, he barely looked put together. His shoulder- length hair was slicked back, but a few strands had slipped out and dangled across his forehead.

Draven’s eyes stayed fixed on that mess of black hair.

He still managed to look somewhat respectable.

A loud crack broke the moment.

Draven stood up and grabbed him by the hair, slamming his head hard against the table.

The table groaned under the impact.

Jeremy hadn’t seen it coming. He braced both hands against the wood and tried to lift his head. He struggled to shake free from the grip locked around his skull.

But Draven’s strength crushed any chance of escaping. After just a few failed attempts, Jeremy was left gasping for breath.

Draven pressed down harder. The veins on the back of his hand popped as he doubled the pressure, forcing Jeremy back into the surface like garbage that needed to stay buried.

His face stayed completely blank. That silent calm, paired with that much force, made the moment feel even more threatening.

Draven grabbed Jeremy’s wine glass and smashed it against the corner of the table, Glass shattered loudly. Sharp fragments scattered. One large shard hung onto a drop of wine like a crimson fang.

Draven picked it up and aimed the sharpest point directly at Jeremy’s eye.

A drop of red wine slid into the corner of it.

His voice came out low. “You wanna meet her? Then you better think about whether you’ve got a second life to burn.”

The edge hovered barely an inch from Jeremy’s pupil. One slip, and he’d go blind.

Jeremy didn’t blink. He didn’t flinch. But the second Draven’s threat dropped, his pupils tightened. Then he burst out laughing, like something inside his head had finally snapped. “You actually care about her? You’ve gotta be kidding me! Draven, if Ayla dumps you, what the hell are you gonna do? You’ve never been loved by anyone in your life. You really think you could survive losing her? Man, I can’t wait for Troy to come back and take her. Watching you get tossed aside again and again…”

The glass slid forward. Just half an inch.

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8:51 pm DE M

Chapter 489 Drawling Uncle

Jeremy blinked. His lashes brushed the edge.

If Draven’s hand twitched even a little, he’d pop Jeremy’s eye like a grape.

Finished

Jeremy’s nerves finally caught up. He remembered what it felt like the last time. Draven had gotten revenge once before. Back when they were kids. Jeremy still had the scar to prove it. A jagged, ugly wound stretched across the side of his chest, right above the heart. Draven had stabbed him clean. Almost killed him. Everyone in the Storm family knew Draven wasn’t wired right. When he snapped, he didn’t stop. Nobody ever used the word “antisocial” as a joke. Most didn’t even dare to be in the same room with him.

now.

Jeremy hated that scar. But it kept him focused. Not because he cared. He just enjoyed watching Draven suffer.

The worse Draven’s life got, the better Jeremy felt.

He tried to laugh again but couldn’t find the breath. “You gonna kill me?”

Draven yanked his head up. The movement wasn’t clean.

Jeremy’s pupils shrank. Panic kicked in. He slammed his eyes shut on instinct.

A ripping pain tore across the side of his face.

Draven had cut him across the temple. The gash stretched nearly two inches long.

Blood flowed fast, bright red against his skin.

Jeremy opened his eyes. The panic was still there.

Draven looked down at him, eyes unreadable. He memorized that pathetic face, then let go of his hair.

Jeremy thought he could take the chance to retaliate. Draven moved faster.

He was never planning to let him go.

His hand clamped around Jeremy’s throat. His fingers dug into his windpipe. His thumb pressed against the artery. Jeremy’s pulse beat loud beneath it.

He didn’t move. Didn’t even breathe.

Pressure worked fine on a monster like him.

He always acted like he had guts. But Jeremy didn’t want to die. Not for real. He could fake the rest, but not that. A coward couldn’t fake courage.

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