The Ex-Wife's Burning Elegance novel Chapter 813

Harry suffered just as he’d been warned—enduring torment that went far beyond anything human.

His face was ruined, his hands shattered, and even his dignity was ripped away, with photos and videos taken to immortalize his humiliation.

Shame burned so fiercely inside him that, for a moment, Harry wished he were dead. But the truth was, he didn’t have the courage.

When it was finally over, Harry collapsed on the floor like a gutted fish, staring up at the ceiling, utterly lifeless.

A handsome, almost angelic face leaned into his line of sight.

The man’s lips curled in a gentle, harmless smile, the kind you’d expect from the boy next door.

And yet there was nothing in his demeanor to betray just how ruthless he truly was.

Harry glanced at his own mangled hands.

Not only had the tendons been severed, but his fingers had been sliced off entirely to prevent even the slightest hope of recovery.

He would never play the violin again.

His brilliant career, his genius—destroyed.

Barely audible, he muttered, “Did Stella hire you to do this?”

The man shook his head. “Mr. Harry, you give yourself far too much credit. You lost to her. Do you really think she’d go to these lengths over someone who could never surpass her?”

A surge of anger kindled in Harry’s bloodshot eyes.

“If it’s not Stella, then who are you? Why are you doing this to me? Don’t you realize how many powerful people I know? You’ll pay for this—I promise you that!”

The man only smiled, unfazed. “Mr. Harry, whatever you and Stella wagered is none of my concern. But you crossed a line when you forced her out of the competition altogether.”

He rubbed his temples, still looking utterly unbothered, but there was a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“Who do you think you are, to decide whether she stays or goes?”

Harry’s burning outrage was snuffed out in an instant, replaced by cold dread.

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