CHAPTER 1 – The Anniversary That Ended in Blood
No one expected blood to be spilled during the most glamorous anniversary celebration of the year.
Crystal chandeliers sparkled above hundreds of wealthy guests. Cameras flashed. A live orchestra played softly as everyone raised their glasses to celebrate the fifth wedding anniversary of Ethan Carter and his beautiful wife, Isabella.
They looked like the perfect couple.
Successful.
Elegant.
Untouchable.
But perfect marriages don't usually end with a knife.
As Ethan stood to thank everyone for attending, Isabella slowly walked toward him in a breathtaking royal-blue dress.
She smiled.
A warm...
Almost loving smile.
Then, without warning—
She pulled a small silver knife from beneath the bouquet she had been carrying and drove it straight into Ethan's chest.
The ballroom exploded into screams.
Wine glasses shattered across the marble floor.
Several guests ducked beneath the tables while security rushed toward the couple.
Ethan staggered backward, his white shirt instantly turning crimson.
Everyone expected him to collapse.
Instead...
He stared directly into Isabella's eyes.
Not with anger.
Not with fear.
But with heartbreak.
"You finally believed them..." he whispered.
Those six words froze Isabella where she stood.
Her hands began trembling.
She had spent months convincing herself that Ethan deserved to die.
Anonymous messages.
Secret photographs.
Hidden bank transfers.
Late-night phone calls.
Every piece of evidence pointed to one horrifying truth.
Her husband had supposedly hired someone to murder her father years earlier—and was preparing to do the same to her.
Tonight was supposed to be justice.
At least...
That was what she believed.
Security tackled Ethan first, assuming he was reaching for a weapon.
But he wasn't.
His shaking hand slipped inside his blood-soaked jacket and pulled out an old cream-colored envelope.
"Read it..." he gasped.
"Please... before they destroy everything."
The room fell eerily silent.
Even the musicians had stopped playing.
Blood dripped from Ethan's fingertips onto the polished floor as he held the envelope toward Isabella.
Across the front, written in faded ink, were only six words.
"If you're reading this... I'm already dead."
Isabella frowned.
That handwriting...
She recognized it immediately.
It belonged to her father.
The same father whose funeral she had attended twelve years earlier.
The same father whose death Ethan had supposedly arranged.
Her breathing stopped.
With trembling fingers, she opened the envelope.
The first sentence made the color drain from her face.
Because the man she had buried...
May you like
Had written this letter two days ago.
To be continued...
