Twenty-Six receipts of betrayal Novel novel Chapter 55

Chapter 10

But the next second, Vincent watched in disbelief as everyone shook their heads:

“We didn’t see anything!”

Vincent was stunned. I lifted his chin with my finger and smiled:

“You didn’t think I spent these three years focused only on you, did you? You were scared enough of me to lock me

away–why underestimate me now?”

“You know what? My first year inside, the torture gave me constant nightmares. So I made myself a promise–someday, I’d become everyone else’s nightmare.”

These three years, I’d built a powerful network of intelligence and influence. I held dirt on every single person here.

Vincent was dragged away.

I calmly surveyed the crowd:

“I trust everyone knows what to say and what not to say?”

They nodded frantically:

“Yes, yes! From now on, we follow your lead, Boss Chase.”

A few days later, my lieutenant Sean Miller told me Vincent had been diagnosed with a mental breakdown and committed to a psychiatric facility.

I nodded:

“How nice. We go way back–let’s pay him a visit.”

When I saw Vincent again, he was strapped to a chair, surrounded by seven or eight sultry women.

Each had facial features that resembled mine in some way.

Vincent’s weak eyes regained their spark when he saw me:

“Lindsay, I’m not crazy! They misdiagnosed me! These women are psychotic–I can’t take it anymore! Send me back to prison, I’d rather take a bullet!”

Sean leaned in respectfully:

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Twenty–Six Receipts of Betrayal: My Silence Was the Countdown to His Eternal Regret

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Chapter 10

“Boss, they said they’re following your orders–three doses of medication daily, keeping Mr. Foster going 24/7.”

Vincent stared in disbelief:

“It was you…”

“Shh!”

I pressed my finger to his lips:

“Vincent, we’ve settled the business debt, but you still owe me for the emotional damage. You know me–I always

collect what I’m owed. Did you really think I’d let you die so easily?”

“Oh, I remember when you betrayed me, you said Bianca looked thirty percent like me, right? I had to honor that deep affection of yours, fake and nauseating as it was.”

“Since you love your substitutes so much, these lovely ladies from the clubs all got a little cosmetic work done. Don’t worry, I paid them enough to last several lifetimes. Enjoy yourself, Vincent. Try not to die too quickly–I’d be so

disappointed.”

As I left, I heard Vincent’s screams:

“Lindsay Chase, you’re going to hell! You’ll die a horrible death!”

Too bad his words were quickly drowned out by waves of physical agony.

Soon enough, he’d die from sheer exhaustion and pain.

Outside, Sean told me:

“Boss, the banquet’s started. They won’t begin without you.”

“Got it. Let’s go.”

Vincent said I’d go to hell?

Ha. I crawled out of hell.

And while I’m still breathing, I’ll make sure everyone knows:

I AM HELL ITSELF.

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