Married Your Girl Bestie as a Dare? Congrats You're Stuck with her now novel Chapter 83

Chapter 14

When Declan’s eyes filled with murderous rage, Vivienne flinched.

“D-Declan, I… it’s not what you think. That video-Sloane set me up, she’s lying!”

But before she could finish, he lunged forward and wrapped his hand around her throat.

“Where is she?” he roared, losing all control. “Where’s Sloane? What did you do with her?!”

Vivienne clawed at his hand, gasping for air, pounding weakly at his arm.

“Let go! Declan-let go!”

The lawyer and the bodyguards rushed to intervene, trying to pull him off.

“Mr. Hawthorne, you know the law. If you don’t stop now, this could bring serious charges!”

It took all of them to finally drag the raging man off her.

Vivienne’s face turned beet red. Her eyes watered as she collapsed to the floor, coughing and gulping for breath, looking utterly pathetic. “You’re doing this over her? That dead woman-Sloane?!”

“She’s not dead!” Declan’s voice cracked, his face ashen.

Vivienne suddenly laughed bitterly, like she had nothing left to lose. “Fine. If you want to kill me for her, then I’ll tell you.”

“That night, after she fell into the water, she flailed for a bit-then the waves swallowed her whole. Gone. Probably nothing left of her by now-not even a body.”

It was like a bell exploded inside Declan’s skull. His ears rang. His heart pounded. And then, all at once-he coughed up a mouthful of blood and collapsed backwards.

Declan Hawthorne. You deserved this.

You destroyed the woman who loved you, over and over again, just to protect a monster like Vivienne.

You never trusted her-not when she cried, not when she begged, not even when she got on her knees for you.

And as the darkness overtook him, a whisper left his lips-laced with nothing but bitter irony.

“I’m sorry, Sloane… I’m coming to be with you.”

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A month later, in a remote countryside estate forty miles outside of Riverstone-

A private nurse was inserting a needle into the woman’s thin, icy-cold vein. Her pale skin made the purplish bruises stand out all the more-each one stark and jamming.

But the moment the needle pierced her flesh, perhaps stirred by the pain, her slender fingertips suddenly twitched. Just the faintest movement.

The nurse gasped, stumbling back before bolting from the room. “Mr. Sharpe! She moved! Her hand just

moved!”

The man in the kitchen froze mid-pour, the scent of coffee still hanging in the air. He strode quickly toward

the master bedroom.

And on the bed-Sloane opened her eyes. The man gave a small nod, then said quietly to the nurse, “Give us

the room. And tell the housekeeper to prepare something easy on the stomach, like chicken broth.

The door shut behind him with a soft click..

Sloane blinked, her vision foggy, her whole body weak. It felt like she was staring through mist, everything

distant and blurry.

A tall figure approached her bed. She recoiled slightly, her voice dry and raspy. “Who… are you? Where…

where am I?”

The last thing she remembered was that final confrontation-pressing the button on her hidden camera just

before Vivienne wrapped her hands around her throat.

Sloane had known how dangerous Vivienne could be. But she hadn’t expected her to actually try to kill her.

The original plan had been to jump into the water herself-to make it look like Vivienne had pushed her. But that night, it almost wasn’t an act. It almost ended for real.

By the time she plunged into the sea, her body was already starved of oxygen. The suffocating pain tore

through her like knives, every nerve screaming. And in that final moment, as her consciousness slipped

away, even she hadn’t believed she’d make it out alive…

… didn’t die?” she whispered, blinking into the haze, her lips curving in a wry, bitter smile.

“No. You didn’t,” the man replied softly. His voice was calm, smooth-surprisingly soothing. “But you walked

the edge of death more than once.”

“Miss West, how do you feel now? Anything hurting? Discomfort?”

She blinked again. “My eyes… I can’t see clearly”

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She vaguely sensed a hand waving in front of her. “Can you see that? My hand? Or my face?”

She shook her head slowly. “No… Who are you?”

The man paused. Then gave a quiet, amused chuckle, like he’d been waiting for the question.

“Nice to meet you. Name’s Devlin. Devlin Sharpe.”

“Miss West, the company you hired for the staged-death rescue mission? I’m the one who runs it.”

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Chapter 1,5

No wonder he took her in after saving her.

Back then, she’d gone through hell just to find their contact info-called in every favour she could. They were

rumoured to run a discreet high-end service for the elite, completely off the grid.

Put simply, as long as you paid enough, they’d tailor everything to your desires.

“That night, the rescue team assigned to you was hidden in the yacht’s lowest level. The moment you hit the

water, they pulled you out. But you’d already lost oxygen before falling, and even though they saved you, you

never woke up…”

Sloane’s voice was dry. “So… how long was I out?”

“Almost two months.”

Before she could ask anything more, Devlin continued.

“Because of your condition, we didn’t dare move you overseas. You’re still in Riverstone. And since your death had to appear real, I placed you in my private estate just outside the city. You’re safe here. Completely

off the radar.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. Your revenge plan worked, mostly. Once you’re rested, you can check the aftermath online

yourself.”

He poured her a glass of water and set it by her bedside. “Focus on recovering. Live. Because the day you’ve

been waiting for… it’s coming, Miss West.”

Something about the way he said that-it felt like comfort.

Sloane looked down. Her eyes stung.

She’d risked everything. Nearly died for this. All for one last shot at rewriting her story.

And now that she was still alive-she would keep living. Fiercely, fearlessly.

As Devlin came downstairs, his assistant, who’d been waiting outside the villa, came briskly up to him.

“Sir, about Declan Hawthorne-he’s still searching the shoreline, day and night, trying to retrieve Miss West’s

body. As for the internet…”

Devlin glanced out the rain-streaked window, recalling the letter Sloane had left behind.