Chapter 6
Stephen hung up the phone, grinning at Dorothy’s pale face. “Michelle probably wants to come back. She hired actors to test me.”
“Don’t worry, Dorothy. I’ll divorce her the moment she returns.”
“Just thinking about her face makes me sick. Even blind in one eye, she couldn’t stop cheating. That bitch should’ve left long ago.”
Dorothy responded distractedly.
Mila ran over with a fairy tale book, begging for a bedtime story.
With a dark expression, Dorothy hissed while reading about the little mermaid: “The mermaid should’ve killed the princess! The prince never loved her!”
“Only soulmates belong together. That princess only won with her family status.”
Her vicious tone made Mila hide under the blankets.
Stephen didn’t just talk–he had lawyers draft divorce papers.
While preparing to divorce me, he commissioned engagement rings for himself and Dorothy.
I laughed bitterly.
My body lay abandoned overseas while he moved on at lightning speed.
To him, I should’ve gracefully vacated the position of Mrs. Davis long ago.
Yet this morning, he habitually called out while tying his tie: “Michelle, fetch my sapphire tie clip.”
Returning home each night, he still detoured to buy my favorite bubble tea.
Even I couldn’t decipher Stephen’s thoughts.
Shortly after the Swiss police call, the hospital where I’d scheduled checkups contacted Stephen.
“Mr. Davis, you’re listed as your wife’s emergency contact.”
“She missed her cardiac exam. Is something wrong?”
Stephen sighed irritably: “Stop harassing me!”
“First fake cops, now fake doctors? Michelle, when will this end?”
The doctor stammered nervously: “Mrs. Michelle Thompson’s artificial heart has triggered five alarms. Without im-
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Chapter 6
288 Vouchers
mediate repair or replacement, she risks fatal failure.”
Stephen froze.
I thought he finally believed them.
But he sneered: “Can’t even memorize lines, actor?”
“Michelle has no artificial heart. Stop bluffing!”
“Call again and I’ll report you to real police.”
“Tell Michelle to sign the divorce papers. I’m done with that vile woman.”
Even now, he thought this was my scheme.
Stephen assumed no one would dare trick him further.
Yet when domestic police contacted him, his sneer vanished–replaced by panic and confusion.
Swiss authorities, seeing his disbelief, arranged to transport my remains home.
When he saw me again, he refused to believe.
Entering the morgue, Stephen kept muttering to officers: “You’re mistaken. My wife ran off with someone. This corpse can’t be her.”
“The face is unrecognizable! How can you prove it’s Michelle?”
“I don’t believe it! Did she bribe your station to fool me?”
His hysterical questions died upon seeing the autopsy report.
The DNA test was a name he was familiar with, the big characters ‘Michelle‘ caught his eye.
In an instant, Stephen couldn’t breathe, and stayed frozen for a long time.
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