My Wife’s Deadly Package

No sooner had Emily finished speaking than Jason’s eyes flared with rage.

In my previous life, after my death, I learned the truth. Jason had lived a hard life—his parents were gone, and he grew up an orphan. He worked diligently as a delivery driver, had just found a girlfriend, and life was finally looking up.

But because Emily kept filing complaints, the company—FedEx—was about to fire him. His girlfriend left him too.

Crushed by repeated blows, he finally reached the point of desperation, ready to drag someone down with him.

Emily had done everything in order to get me killed.

I pulled out my phone and handed it to her.

She froze. “What do you mean by this?”

“I think the delivery guy has been doing his job responsibly. If you want to complain, make the call yourself.”

Emily bit her lip. She wouldn’t make that call—she wanted to redirect the hatred, so Jason would see me as the enemy.

“Michael, you’ve changed. You used to do whatever I asked. Do you have someone else now? Don’t you love me anymore?”

Yes. Emily had been the woman I held in the palm of my hand. I would’ve given her my heart if I could. Yet she never saw it.

“Believe what you want.”

Seeing that I no longer bothered to pretend, cold light flashed in Emily’s eyes. She pointed at me and said, “Jason, don’t be fooled. I’m a social media influencer with a real future. I wouldn’t ruin myself over lies.”

“My husband thought I was having an affair with you, that’s why he targeted you, complained, got you nearly fired.”

“I only treated you harshly to clear my own name!”

Jason’s fury was stoked. His hand dipped into his pocket.

I stepped forward, grabbed his wrist, and whispered, “Don’t. Stay calm.”

Jason blinked, surprised. I leaned in and said quietly, “Go home first. I’ll settle this. I’ll make sure you get justice.”

Perhaps because I had spoken up for him earlier, Jason trusted me. He cast one last, burning look at Emily, then turned and left.

Emily stomped her foot. “Michael, you’re just letting him go?”

I frowned. “Yes.”

Emily burst into tears, loud enough to draw the neighbors from upstairs and downstairs.

She often bribed them with little favors, so when they saw her crying, they instinctively sided with her.

“Michael, what’s wrong with you? How could you make Emily cry?”

“Emily is such a good woman. You’d better not take her for granted.”

I nearly laughed out loud. A good woman? A woman plotting her husband’s murder? She was no saint—more like a modern-day Lady Macbeth.

When asked, Emily recounted what had just happened.

“Michael, you’re barely home. Emily runs everything.”

“She manages the finances while you’re useless.”

“And when trouble comes, you just hide? Are you even a man?”

I sneered.

“So what?”

“And what business is it of yours?”

The neighbors froze. Normally, I was polite, courteous to everyone.

This wasn’t a lack of manners—it was that I had no reason to endure any longer.

They all knew about Emily and Daniel, yet they took her side because she bought their silence with favors, keeping me, the fool, in the dark.

And to think, I even spent my spare time helping them fix things—children’s toys, home appliances, you name it.

Ungrateful bastards.

As for their accusations—utter nonsense.

When I first met Emily, she had just started as a content creator, barely known.

All her expenses were covered by me. Even after she gained followers, I still paid for her filming costs, while she wasted her earnings freely.