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Ripping the Bitch Mask
Last Updated:
2023-06-02 15:34:32
Latest chapter
The Wealthy Divorcee Ritual Preparation
Chapter 143 – Ritual PreparationThe moment the chieftain’s bone staff singled Jenna out, the atmosphere in the village shifted—like the jungle itself leaned closer to listen. The chanting died down into excited whispers, then rose again in feverish waves. Warriors pounded their chests. Women began preparing fires, dragging out carved stone bowls, ropes, and baskets woven from sinew.The ritual was beginning.Jenna forced her back straight, though pain pulsed through her ribs with every breath. Her wrists throbbed where the restraints had rubbed skin raw. But she refused to shrink back from the bars.Fear would not keep her alive.Her mind would.
The Wealthy Divorcee The Village of Bones
The world narrowed into jagged shapes and bruising hands as Jenna and the others were shoved through the towering wooden gates. Her ribs ached, her wrists burned, her cheek throbbed from the blow she’d taken—but nothing compared to the shock that seized her lungs when she saw what waited inside.The village wasn’t a village.It was a graveyard pretending to live.Bones—large, small, human, animal—were bound into the very architecture. Ribcages served as lantern frames, skulls lined the pathways like guiding stones. Every structure had bones woven into it: huts reinforced with femurs, archways decorated with teeth, drums stretched with skin.The air stank of decay and smoke. The fires were the wrong color—too orange, flickering with an oily sheen.The warriors dragged the survivors across a clearing toward a set of towering cages. Not metal—bamboo lashed together with vines, reinforced by bones tied horizont
The Wealthy Divorcee Captured
The world shrank to the spinning blade of the spear.Jenna saw nothing else—no fire, no jungle, no survivors—only the jagged tip slicing toward her heart.Her breath stopped. Her pulse stuttered. Her legs refused to move.Everything inside her screamed, "Move, Jenna—move!" but terror locked her joints tighter than ropes ever could.The spear cut through the firelight——and then a force slammed into her side.Impact. Pain detonated across her ribs. The world pitched sideways as she crashed into the sand, Tiara slipping from her grip with a mechanical cry.A shadow had tackled her. Steeve.The spear whistled past her ear. So close she felt the wind of it.It buried itself in the sand where her chest had been. A heartbeat slower—and she would have been dead.Jenna gasped, dragging air into her lungs. Her ribs flared with sharp agony. She tried to stand——but the jungle erupted.They came like a wave.Dozens of warriors burst from the treeline with bone-tipped spears, obsidian knives, and
The Wealthy Divorcee The Jungle Awakens
The night thickened around them like a living creature—dense, humid, and watching.The fire crackled violently, embers spitting upward like frantic sparks trying to flee. Every survivor felt it—the shift in the air, the way the wind changed direction, how the sounds of tiny insects abruptly died.The jungle had awakened.Its awakening was not natural.It was intentional.JennaHer hands curled around the makeshift spear she’d carved from driftwood, palms slick with sweat. She felt the tremor between her ribs, the animal instinct whispering that they were no longer alone.Not even close.Tiara flickered in her arms, her tiny frame buzzing weakly.“Ma…ma… d-danger…” the AI stuttered.Jenna pressed her lips together. “I know, sweetheart. Hold on.”Her eyes stayed locked on the treeline.The shadows moved.One shape stepped out—silent, deliberate.Then another.Then many.Painted faces emerged from the darkness, skin streaked with ash-white lines, crimson spirals, and black smudges that b
The Wealthy Divorcee Closing In
The jungle pressed close, its shadows stretching long and sharp as the last light of day bled into dusk. The survivors circled tighter around the fire, their bodies tense, eyes darting at every rustle in the undergrowth.They had buried Ramon hours earlier, but his death still hung over them like a curse. The smell of ash and salt clung to their skin. Now the forest returned the favor, whispering with leaves, promising unseen horrors.Jenna She kept her shoulders square, though her insides quaked. The others needed strength, not more fear. Her fingers traced the edges of a jagged stick she had sharpened into a makeshift spear. It wasn’t much, but it was something. Anything was better than standing empty-handed.They want us b
The Wealthy Divorcee Signs of Death
The dawn broke with a dull gray light, heavy clouds smothering the horizon. The survivors had barely slept, startled awake by every crack of branches and whisper of waves. When morning finally came, it brought no comfort. The air was thick, sour, and tasted of fear.Jenna pushed herself up from the damp sand, her body aching. Her eyes scanned the huddled forms near the dead fire. She counted instinctively—one, two, three… Her stomach dropped. Someone was missing.“Where’s Ramon?” Steeve’s voice was hoarse, cracking the fragile silence.Heads lifted slowly, confusion rippling through the group. Mateo’s fingers tightened around his rosary, his lips parting but no words coming. A heavy dread pressed down before anyone moved.
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