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Dear Wife, Please Don't Cry Novel Cover

Dear Wife, Please Don't Cry

8.4 / 10.0
When Stacey is assigned to a gruesome new homicide case, her sharp instincts immediately paint a chilling picture. She deduces that the victim endured horrific physical and psychological torture at the hands of a seasoned killer seeking a personal vendetta. Every single one of her professional deductions is flawlessly accurate. However, her world is shattered by one crucial, unforeseen detail she overlooked: the brutally murdered man is none other than her most hated husband.

Dear Wife, Please Don't Cry Chapter 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.

"Based on the amount of blood on the ground and the festering skin of the deceased, the deceased should have been whipped to death."

I was floating in the air and couldn't help but want to applaud.

Stacey was awesome.

That was how the murderer tortured me!

Peter's face was cold.

"What about the information of the deceased?"

Stacey lowered her head and began to piece together the broken bones on the ground. After a while, she whispered.

"From the broken bones and the severed palm, it can be inferred that the deceased was a male... Unfortunately, the skull is missing. But the deceased should be around 30 years old, six feet tall. And there is a mole on his left arm."

Having said this, Stacey hesitated for a moment.

I was floating in the air, worried.

I thought, "Stacey, please find out that it's me!

"They acted as a gang.

"The murderer's next target is you!"

Finally, Stacey's assistant pointed to the two broken palms on the ground.

"Miss Tucker, the red nail polish on these two severed palms looks like it was just painted. The murderer must be a man. His skills are so poor."

Stacey said, "Let me see."

Stacey picked up the broken palm and began to look at it. Suddenly a hint of doubt flashed in her eyes.

I held my breath nervously.

The nail on my left little finger had been black since I was a child. It had been a natural condition since I was born.

However, the murderer painted my severed palms with red nail polish, which just covered up my black nails.

The assistant leaned over and saw that Stacey didn't say anything. She asked curiously.

"Miss Tucker, are there any new discoveries?"

Stacey came back to her senses from her shock. She put down the broken palm and shook her head.

"Not yet. Based on my previous experience in handling cases, the murderer usually paints the nails of the deceased or dresses the deceased up as a doll, mostly to satisfy his inner perverted desires."

What?

I sighed heavily.

Really.

Stacey didn't care about me at all.

She always ignored me.

The next day, Stacey discussed with the team members for a whole morning and decided to go to the crime scene for another inspection.

She looked around the abandoned factory, and suddenly walked to a corner and picked up a bracelet that had fallen on the ground.

The assistant walked to Stacey's side and asked curiously.

"Miss Tucker, is this what the murderer left behind?"

I floated over. I felt nervous again.

This bracelet was something I wore often. And it was also the evidence I desperately left behind before I die!

When the murderer was whipping me madly, I took the opportunity to fall and deliberately threw the bracelet to the ground.

If Stacey had ever paid attention to me, she would have definitely discovered that this was mine.

Stacey stared at the bracelet in a daze. After a moment, she spoke.

"The murderer acted cautiously. I think he left it there on purpose to provoke us."

I was so anxious that I shouted.

"It's wrong. Completely wrong. Honey, think about it again!"

I heard it with my own ears. They were preparing to attack Stacey.

Stacey looked back.

I didn't know if it was providence, she looked at the bracelet and muttered.

"Take it back for identification..."

Back at the police station, Peter called everyone together for a three-hour meeting.

The meeting ended at around eight o'clock.

Peter glanced at the gate in confusion.

"That's weird. Usually, Nicolas would come pick you up whenever you work overtime. Why didn't I see him today?"

Stacey raised her eyebrows and snorted.

"He'd better not come. I don't want to ride in his car."

Seeing that Stacey was full of resentment towards me, Peter sighed and patted her shoulder.

"The dead cannot be resurrected. Andy's death actually has nothing to do with Nicolas. He is a survivor as well as a victim. After so many years, it's time for you to let it go."

She said, "How can I let it go? If Nicolas hadn't suspected me, Andy would not have died, and my mother wouldn't have died of depression because she lost her grandson!"

Stacey was very excited. Her hands holding the cup were shaking violently. And there was a hint of hatred in her eyes.

Peter pursed his lips helplessly.

He seemed to have gotten used to it a long time ago. Every time he advised her, Stacey showed hatred.

"Nicolas was also innocent in that incident. If possible, he would definitely be willing to exchange his life for Andy's. Besides, Andy is also his son."

"Stop!"

Stacey glared at Peter, slammed the table hard, and said in a tone full of anger.

"That's not his son. Andy was only mine!

"He was kidnapped with Andy. Andy died tragically, but he was safe and sound. Is he worthy of being a father? He is not as good as Jacky. At least Jacky was seriously injured in order to save Andy!

"If possible, I would rather Jacky be the father of Andy!"

Stacey was unusually excited. Peter remained silent.

I looked at Stacey's cold face and felt my heart ached!

Stacey.

This was all designed by Jacky Colin!

He teamed up with others and designed a scheme together!

Andy accidentally overheard their plan, and Jacky hated Stacey, so Andy was tortured to death!

Peter pursed his lips. He looked at Stacey's hateful eyes and finally couldn't help himself.

He said, "It's been five years since that happened. We've all know how Nicolas treated you in those five years. If he was really pretending, he would have been exposed in those five years.

"If you really hate him, just let him go."

Stacey said, "Okay, I've wanted a divorce for a long time."

Stacey picked up the phone and called me without hesitation, as if she was relieved.

Beep.

The voice prompt indicated that my phone was turned off.

Stacey called me several times. Her tone full of impatience.

"I can't find him at the critical moment. It's so annoying! When I see Nicolas, I will file for divorce with him!"

I smiled bitterly.

I thought, "Stacey.

"You can't see me.

"You can't divorce me either.

"Your marital status can only be widowhood."

Continue Reading

Dear Wife, Please Don't Cry of Contents

Ch. 1 Ch. 2
Ch. 3
Ch. 4
Ch. 5
Ch. 6
Ch. 7
Ch. 8
Ch. 9
Ch. 10
Ch. 11
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