My Husband Wants Me Dead novel (Esther and Bradley)

Chapter 824

Kevin constantly reminded himself that he bore responsibility for Esther’s death.

After Kevin’s departure, Warner Manor returned to its tranquil state. Bradley extended his hand to gently caress the

familiar face in the photograph, particularly those bright, captivating eyes resembling a starry galaxy and gleaming

with purity and radiance.

“Esther, you’re not dead, are you?

“You’ve always excelled at acting, at disguising.

“This time, you’re just acting, right?”

Each time Bradley posed this question to himself, he conjured the image of Esther’s casket at the funeral home, the

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memory of watching it being pushed into the cremator.

“Esther!

“No one ever taught me what love is. I always believed I didn’t love you, that I despised you. But it was only after

losing you forever that I realized I love you.

“Esther, who granted you the right to recklessly enter my world? Who gave you the courage to ruthlessly cast me

out of yours?

“Esther! You are my wife! How dare you leave without my consent?

“No! Esther isn’t dead!

“Yes! She can’t be dead!”

Bradley took a deep breath and staggered to the bathroom in his bedroom. He freshened up, shaving off his

stubble and tidying his white hair. He then selected a well-fitted, high-quality suit without any visible logos from the

wardrobe.

In an instant, the Bradley tormented by inner demons vanished, replaced by a colder, more ruthless, and

bloodthirsty version.

–

The driver brought Bradley to a residential area, and he entered a game room as per the address.

Hoyt, engrossed in a game of Minesweeper on his computer, heard the door open. He glanced at Bradley lazily

before resuming his game.

Bradley approached Hoyt and took a seat. “I’ve heard you’re the best detective.”

Bradley’s hackers had discovered Hoyt. He differed from the usual investigators as he operated discreetly, blending

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in with regular people.

“And then?”

Bradley placed a photo of Esther gently in front of Hoyt.

“Help me locate her.”

Hoyt briefly inspected the photo, his tone nonchalant as he asked, “Mr. Warner, the whole world knows that your

ex-wife fell off a cliff and that her ashes were scattered at the sea. Now you want me to find her? Are you

suggesting I should venture into the underworld to rescue her for you?”

“She didn’t die.” Bradley’s long fingers lightly tapped the photo on the table. “She’s skilled at disguising and acting.

She absolutely… absolutely… didn’t die. Esther definitely didn’t die.”