Chapter 1 Chapter 1

"Honey, the washing machine's making that buzzing sound again. Can you fix it please?" my wife, Felicia Odell, asked. I stretched my stiff limbs from sitting too long and saved the design I'd just finished. The client had paid a good amount for these designs. Once I received the final payment, combined with my savings, we'd be able to buy a house of our own. A place just for the two of us, not some rental apartment. Felicia's gentle voice called out again, and I got up from my desk with a smile. When I reached the bathroom, I found the old washing machine shaking and making a noise. It was an older twin-tub manual model, yellowed from years of use. It was clearly time to replace it. We'd get a brand-new automatic one when we moved into our new home. Felicia stood behind me, wearing rubber gloves and boots, considerately handing me a screwdriver. But as soon as I put my hand on the machine, a jolt of electricity surged through me. My whole body tensed up, my heart pounded, and I convulsed for several seconds. Unable to handle the shock, my heart eventually gave out and I collapsed. The last thing I heard was Felicia's voice. "Derek, he's been electrocuted and collapsed. He should be dead," she said sweetly into the phone. "Don't worry. I stayed far away, so I'm perfectly safe," she added, laughing. "I'll take care of his funeral and move in with you as soon as it's over. Yeah, he has quite a bit of money in his account, enough for the two of us for a long time." She glanced at me indifferently as if everything that had happened was just a simple accident. I lay on the floor, filled with resentment. I worked myself to the bone every month so she could do what she loved, yet she went and staged an electrocution to kill me. The power outlet continued to hiss and buzz, like the mocking laughter of a devil. I stared at Felicia with hatred as she took my bank card before making a call. "Please… Help me… My husband accidentally got electrocuted. I need to arrange a funeral," she said, pretending to cry. Felicia knew the password to my bank card—her own birthday—and had already accessed the account. She looked at the six-figure balance with a smile on her face but said in a tone that feigned sadness, "We don't have much money. Just arrange a simple cremation. No need for a cemetery plot. "The cheapest is 400 dollars? Nothing cheaper? Fine, let's go with that." I watched as Felicia carried my urn home, looking somber. Then, she casually tossed it into the trash bin by the door, letting out a sigh of relief. She quickly moved in with her lover, using my money to buy him a 700-dollar outfit and taking him on vacations, staying in five-star hotels that cost 200 dollars per night. I glared at Felicia, seething, as she smiled sweetly at her lover. She was spending my money—money she barely used for my funeral—to buy him expensive clothes. My consciousness started to fade. Tears rolled down my face uncontrollably, soaking my sleeve, and I suddenly snapped back to reality. Wait, I was alive? My hand throbbed in intense pain, sending sharp jolts through my brain. My head pounded. "Honey, the washing machine's making that buzzing sound again. Can you fix it please?" Felicia's gentle voice called from the other room. After a moment, she called again, "Honey, the washing machine is broken. Can you take a look at it?" When I didn't respond right away, she came in, clearly annoyed. "Marcus Lomas. I've been calling for you. Why are you ignoring me?" My mind was still processing what had happened. I couldn't believe my wife had tried to kill me just to be with another man. Felicia noticed my dazed state and quickly put on a concerned expression, reaching out to feel my forehead. I recoiled from her touch, my body shaking. She didn't seem to mind though and handed me a toolkit and the same black-handled screwdriver from before. "Go check what's wrong with the washing machine…" she said. I took the screwdriver and slowly walked toward the bathroom. Felicia followed closely, nudging me along. "Hurry up, honey. My pink dress is still in the wash." The water heater was filling up, and none of the power sources were switched off. I glanced back at Felicia. She was wearing rubber gloves and boots, completely protected, while I had no protection whatsoever. It was just like before. My wife couldn't wait to see me dead! I swallowed my anger and turned to exit the room. Felicia, seeing me turn, quickly grabbed my arm. "Honey, the washing machine!" she urged. I pulled my arm away and tried to keep my voice steady. "To fix the washing machine, I need to turn off the power first. Your dad's an electrician. You should know that." She awkwardly let go of my arm. "Oh, right. I forgot." I looked at her boots and gloves. She didn't look like she had forgotten. Felicia had never done any housework before. I used to think nothing of it, but it suddenly clicked. She had been acting out of character by doing the laundry. I went to the circuit box and switched off all the power in the house. Then, I put on rubber gloves and boots before heading back to the bathroom. I caught a glimpse of Felicia's look of disappointment. She was disappointed that she hadn't managed to electrocute me? Really? My heart twisted with pain. Recalling everything Felicia had done after my death, I felt so weighed down that I could barely move.

Chapter 2 Chapter 2

At dinner, Felicia complimented me, saying my cooking was as delicious as ever. She ate with apparent enjoyment. I watched her as she replied to messages on her phone, the smile on my face not reaching my eyes. No matter how good I was to her, it didn't stop her from seeking out another man. Not long after finishing her meal, Felicia went to bed. I picked up her phone and keyed in the password—her birthday. Pinned to the top of her chat list was one Derek Hoole. Her chat with me had long been buried so deep that I couldn't even find it on the homepage. I opened her conversation with Derek and saw her calling him "honey," a title that should've belonged to me but was now being used on someone else. Her messages were like a knife to my eyes. Felicia: [Ugh, Marcus actually thought to turn off the circuit. Our honeymoon plans are delayed again.] Felicia: [He's so annoying! Why won't he just die already? Derek, I just want to be with you right now.] Derek: [It's okay, Felicia. As long as our hearts are one, we're already together. As for him, we'll wait for our next chance.] Their chat history went back two months. At first, they were just discussing art, but over time, their conversations became increasingly flirtatious and explicit. Felicia shared every little detail of her day with Derek, a stark contrast to the cold and distant demeanor she showed me. Apart from necessary communication, we barely talked anymore. Unbelievable. This whole thing was unbelievable! Reading their messages, I felt a rage building in my chest. I had paid for Felicia to take art classes, and this was how she repaid me. Without hesitation, I backed up their chat history to my cloud drive. After some more scrolling, I found a crucial piece of information. Derek: [Shall we continue painting tomorrow?] Felicia: [Oh, Derek, you're so naughty!] I frowned. Painting? What were they painting? Why would Felicia react like that over a regular painting? Something told me this was more than it seemed. The next day, Felicia got up early, carefully doing her makeup at her vanity. She put on her favorite pink dress and small pearl earrings, then cheerfully called out, "I'm off to class!" She slipped into her heels and skipped out the door. Even that little farewell seemed like a token gesture, a sliver of kindness given to me out of the joy she felt about meeting Derek. I quietly followed Felicia, watching as she first headed to the art studio and then entered Derek's apartment. His studio, where he taught students, was right next to his apartment. He rented the two units side by side. I waited, thinking about how I could get in without being noticed. Just then, a food delivery guy walked up to the door. "Is this for Unit 608?" I asked. "Yeah," he replied. I took the delivery from him. "I'll take it." I also handed him 30 dollars, buying his uniform and mask. With the food in hand, I knocked on the door. Felicia's familiar voice came from inside. "I said to leave the food at the door." Then, a soft man's voice followed. "It's fine, Felicia. I'll get it." Derek opened the door, and my eyes were immediately drawn to a splash of pink on the floor. It was Felicia's dress, the one she wore out this morning. I caught a glimpse through the crack of the door and saw the edge of a canvas. On it, a woman was standing with birthday suit on a balcony. My mind went blank. I didn't even remember how I got downstairs. I had watched Felicia walk into that apartment. I had my suspicions about what they might be doing, but I never imagined it would be this shocking. Felicia was posing as topless model for Derek? I sat on the bench outside for over two hours, the wind blowing in my face. The security guard noticed me sitting there motionless and offered me a cigarette. "Young man, everyone goes through tough times. You just have to work through it. Don't let it get to you," he comforted. The cigarette smoke stung my eyes, and I let out a tear. After collecting myself, I went back upstairs and knocked on the door. "Mr. Hoole, I'm here to pick up Felicia."

Chapter 3 Chapter 3

Derek welcomed me in without missing a beat, joking, "Felicia, your husband really cares about you. He showed up personally to pick you up. He must really worry about you." Felicia subtly frowned when she saw me. "What are you doing here?""I came to check on how your lessons have been going these past two months. I've been too busy lately to spend time with you," I answered. Derek chimed in, "Felicia has made a lot of progress. She's the most talented student I've ever had." Felicia blushed and said playfully, "Oh, come on, Mr. Hoole. You're exaggerating." Derek turned to me. "It's true. Would you like to see some of Felicia's work?" I agreed immediately. I had spent over 1.5 grand on these lessons, and I wanted to see what Felicia had managed to accomplish. Derek's smile faltered for a split second, clearly not expecting me to actually agree. He turned and headed into his studio, saying, "Give me a moment. There's a lot of stuff in there, and I need to find the right piece." After he left, Felicia's demeanor changed completely. She glared at me. "Why are you here causing trouble?""I'm here to take you home," I replied. She scowled. "I know how to get home on my own. Don't tell me you're really worried about me like Mr. Hoole said. "Marcus, you're embarrassing me. Mr. Hoole is just my teacher. Showing up here is like a slap in my face." I watched Felicia, noting the sharp tone that didn't match her usual appearance. She was the one cheating, yet she was acting all high and mighty. It was because I'd spoiled her too much, always giving in to her. Fine, I'd put up with her for two more days. I wanted to see how long she could keep this up. There was a noise coming from the studio next door—something falling. Felicia immediately ran over to check. With both Derek and Felicia in the studio, I started searching for the painting they were working on earlier. The living room was full of empty frames piled in one corner. I glanced over at them. Most were just landscape oil paintings. Finally, I found a painting that had been turned around in the bedroom. I flipped it over, revealing a painting of a woman's body. She was partially covered by a bedsheet, lounging on a sofa. Her eyes were seductive as she extended her arm, beckoning forward. It wasn't Felicia, but another woman. It was someone I recognized from when I enrolled Felicia in these classes. Had all of Derek's students posed for him? I pulled back other covered canvases. Derek had 20 or 30 canvases in his bedroom, all depicting women's bodies. Some were of Felicia, starting as simple sketches and gradually becoming more explicit. I touched the canvas of the painting I'd stumbled upon earlier. The paint was still wet. There was a small black mole on the chest of the subject. The same one Felicia had. She wore a coy smile in the painting. I took a step back and accidentally bumped into the desk, causing the computer screen to light up. I looked at the screen which was opened to a website. The page was filled with the same types of drawings I had just seen. A message notification popped up in the corner: [How much for the third one in the first row?] Derek was selling these paintings? He was posting these compromising paintings online and profiting off them. Absolutely disgusting. He was no better than scum. Everyone might come across such websites at some point, but those were just faceless strangers. However, this…this was my wife, someone I knew. Fighting the wave of nausea, I took pictures and recorded videos of the computer screen, Derek's account details, and transaction information. I gathered all the evidence I could. I quietly closed the door and went back to my apartment.