My Husband Cheated on Me, And His Girlfriend Murdered Me Novel Cover

My Husband Cheated on Me, And His Girlfriend Murdered Me

9.5 / 10.0
Livia Wilson was a talented young doctor with everything ahead of her, until her life was cut short in a horrific, burning homicide. Now, her charred remains are unrecognizable, and the investigator leading the hunt for her killer is none other than her own husband. He is completely oblivious to the fact that his own infidelity and neglect paved the way for her tragic demise. As he pieces together the grim clues, a crushing wave of remorse begins to consume him from the inside out.
My Husband Cheated on Me, And His Girlfriend Murdered Me Summary
Livia Wilson was a talented young doctor with everything ahead of her, until her life was cut short in a horrific, burning homicide. Now, her charred remains are unrecognizable, and the investigator leading the hunt for her killer is none other than her own husband. He is completely oblivious to the fact that his own infidelity and neglect paved the way for her tragic demise. As he pieces together the grim clues, a crushing wave of remorse begins to consume him from the inside out.
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My Husband Cheated on Me, And His Girlfriend Murdered Me Chapter 1

"It's gonna be tough identifying the victim, Captain Hawkins," Garet said, his voice reflecting the seriousness of the situation.

"Yeah, Mr. Collins," replied Sebert Hawkins, a seasoned captain in the police department at 45 years old. He had seen his fair share of grim scenes over the years, and this was right up there—an investigator's worst nightmare. Apart from the challenge of solving the case, there was always the hope it wouldn't turn out to be someone they knew, sparing them extra heartache.

Sebert gave clear instructions, "Mr. Wood, team up with the forensic doc. Figure out the gender and any other details from the body. Mr. Collins, gather evidence, check the CCTV, and chat with folks around here."

"Got it, Capt." Garet and Bernard Wood had worked together on plenty of cases, forming a kind of unspoken understanding. Even though Garet operated as a private eye while Sebert and Bernard were cops, their teamwork was spot-on, resulting in a solid track record of solving cases. I stood nearby, nodding along, eager to see how they'd crack the case this time.

It was almost the end of July, still scorching hot. Garet's forehead and back were soaked with sweat, leaving a big damp spot on his shirt as he strolled along the pedestrian path near Silver Bridge.

Away from the hustle of cops, curious onlookers, and reporters, he moved around the spot where a cyclist had stumbled upon a hefty black plastic bag snagged on the riverbank earlier that day. I followed along, curious to see their investigative approach unfold.

The bag had been sitting there for a few days, just another piece of trash until the cyclist caught wind of an awful smell and a cloud of flies buzzing around it. That was the tipping point—he immediately dialed the police.

And there it was, the horrific discovery of a murder victim. The body was nearly charred beyond recognition, about 90% burnt. It was a real challenge; there were no personal items left behind, no fingerprints or obvious physical features to go on. The police were left with relying on forensic analysis, DNA, or dental records, but without a starting point, progress would be slow.

That was why the CCTV footage and witness accounts were crucial. Any odd sightings or unusual people nearby could be the key to unraveling the mystery.

The problem was, this spot was in an industrial area, quiet and mostly deserted, especially near the river. Garet noticed a group of female factory workers who seemed both curious and anxious about the situation.

"Wow, is the body really burned that badly? It's so scary!"

"Yeah, they say it's so bad that they can't even tell who it was. Makes me think twice about taking night shifts around here."

"Poor soul. How could something like this happen to them?"

"Wait, are you saying there might be more than one victim? That's insane!"

"No, I think the police are not sure if it's a man or a woman yet."

"My friend got a closer look and thinks it's probably a woman."

"Oh my god, this is nuts. I'm feeling really uneasy now. I'm calling my husband to come pick me up."

The conversation buzzed with concern and disbelief, reflecting the shock and fear rippling through the community as news of the grisly discovery spread.

Listening in on the women's conversation, Garet fell silent for a moment. I noticed him pull out his phone and dial someone. The name "[Livy]" flashed on the screen. After a while, the call still hadn't connected, and he grumbled in frustration, pressing the red button. "Why aren't you answering? Are you still mad? So dumb!"

I chuckled and teased, "You're the one being dumb." But his expression stayed serious.

We resumed walking, circling the area. Garet didn't glean much useful info from the locals, except that the place got pretty dark at night and was littered with abandoned buildings—prime conditions for foul play. Luckily, there were plenty of CCTVs around the factories and offices facing the riverbank, offering a glimmer of hope. If any of those cameras captured the culprit, it could crack the case wide open.

He scribbled down the names of buildings with potential CCTV coverage and called in some backup to start reviewing footage from a few days prior. Thirty minutes later, his team of ten investigators arrived. They split up efficiently, each pair tasked with combing through the CCTV footage and securing copies. With over twenty buildings to cover, it was a race against time.

By half past six, as the sky began to darken, they regrouped in the parking lot. "How's it going, team?" Garet inquired.

"We've checked ten facilities' CCTV from the day before the bag surfaced, but no luck so far. We did see the bag drifting with the water from the east, but there weren't many operational buildings in that direction," reported one of the investigators.

"Yeah, most of them were abandoned or still under construction. Only five offices seemed active," added another.

"Alright, let's wrap it up for today. We'll focus on those offices tomorrow. Did everyone manage to get copies of the footage, just in case?" Garet confirmed.

"Yes, sir," they chorused.

"Good, dismissed. See you tomorrow morning at 9 sharp!"

I watched as they headed to their cars, leaving Garet alone in the dimly lit parking lot. The police and crowd had cleared out earlier in the afternoon.

He grabbed his phone and dialed someone. "Bernard, any updates?" he asked as he leaned against his car.

"Yes and no," Bernard replied on the other end.

"What do you mean?" Garet's voice showed a hint of frustration.

"We've determined it's a woman, but we haven't uncovered any other details about the burned victim," Bernard explained.

"Alright, I reviewed some CCTV footage, but nothing significant yet. My team will comb through the eastern section of the industrial area tomorrow. I'll keep you posted," Garet said, making mental notes.

After exchanging a few more words, they ended the call. Garet got into his car and drove off in the direction of our house.

But instead of going straight home, the car made a detour and stopped in front of an apartment building. A strikingly beautiful girl stood at the gate in a t-shirt, shorts, and a cardigan. Jane Dunne ran her fingers through her brunette hair before getting into the passenger seat. It used to be my place, but now I felt indifferent, just observing quietly from the backseat.

Jane fastened her seatbelt and glanced at the rearview mirror without saying a word. Then, she asked Garet to lower the AC as she felt chilly.

The drive resumed in silence, tension palpable in the air.

"Why did you ask me to come?" Garet started as he drove, his tone slightly strained.

"Nothing, I just wanted to talk. You've seemed so busy lately," Jane replied casually, prompting an eye roll from me in the backseat.

"If you know he's busy, why bother him?" I silently grumbled, growing more annoyed.

"Yeah, lots of work going on. Do you need anything?" Garet asked, trying to shift the conversation.

"Are you working on a new case?" Jane pressed further.

"You know I can't discuss work with anyone," Garet responded firmly.

"But I'm not just anyone, am I?" Jane shot back.

"Oh, just shut up!" I finally snapped, unable to tolerate the situation any longer. It was all becoming nauseating.

Garet slowed the car and eventually came to a stop. He turned to Jane, speaking in a quieter tone, "I need some peace right now. I didn't come here to argue."

After a brief pause, Garet continued driving and eventually pulled over at the same spot where he had picked Jane up earlier.

"I've been feeling a bit anxious lately. I was wondering if you could stay the night," Jane confessed, looking at Garet with her big, pleading eyes.

Garet smiled warmly and affectionately touched the top of her head. "Why? Is something bothering you?"

"No, nothing like that. I just can't stand being alone lately. It would be nice to have someone with me," she explained.

Garet seemed to understand and leaned over to kiss her forehead gently.

Feeling a wave of sickness in my stomach from witnessing this melodrama, I abruptly stormed out of the car without looking back. The wind was howling fiercely as I walked aimlessly through the dark night. It felt like an eternity before I finally arrived at what used to be our home. After only a few months entering our lives, that woman successfully ruined everything for me.

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My Husband Cheated on Me, And His Girlfriend Murdered Me of Contents

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