Dear Wife, Please Don't CryChapter 1
When I was tortured to death by criminals, my wife, Stacey Tucker, was watching a movie with her lover.
When she received my call for help, she scolded me impatiently.
"Go to hell. Don't disturb my date with Jacky."
I breathed a sigh of relief. Luckily Stacey didn't come over.
Three days later, Stacey investigated a shocking murder case.
She speculated that this was a typical vendetta, the murderer was an old hand, and the victim had suffered horrific mental and physical abuse before his death.
Her analysis was completely correct.
The only thing she didn't figure out was that the deceased was her most hated husband.
Three days later, the police received a report from a stranger.
Stacey quickly ended her annual leave to accompany her lover, and rushed to the crime scene with the team.
The smell of blood from the abandoned factory was unbearable.
Stacey looked at the corpses scattered all over the crime scene. Her delicate face was gloomy.
"It's too cruel. This must be a revenge killing."
Her leader, Peter, was serious. He knew the meaning of the word.
"Are you sure?"
Stacey nodded and frowned.