Prologue
My husband’s childhood sweetheart posted my photos all over the internet.
“Brave mother ventures into the danger alone to find her missing daughter.”
Nine pictures of me.
For the whole world to stare at.
I begged her to delete them.
My husband just sneered.
“You don’t have that many people watching your pathetic life.”
He had no idea.
Those photos handed me straight to human traffickers.
My last thought before I died:
Will he come save me?
He never came.
He was at a birthday party.
For his childhood sweetheart.
Seven days after I was murdered.
My top detective husband performed an autopsy on my body.
When he saw the ruined tattoo on my ankle, he froze.
“No…that can’t be…”
Worse.
He found our daughter’s skull in a pigsty.
Half-eaten by hogs.
Chapter 1
A broken, headless corpse lay on the police station steps.
My husband, Darius Vaughn, knelt down.
He studied the body with cold, clinical focus.
I’d never seen him look at me like that when I was alive.
My ghost hovered above.
Watching.
I almost laughed.
I only became his focus after I was dead.
“The victim suffered repeated blunt-force trauma to five ribs and the jaw.”
“The fatal injury was a depressed skull fracture. The torture lasted about 48 hours.”
Darius examined my corpse like it was a stranger.
“We confirm identity after DNA results.”
His gaze drifted to my left hand.
All five fingers were gone.
Only an empty palm remained.
My ghost eyes fixed on my ring finger.
Where my wedding ring used to be.
“The killer dumped the body right here!” Officer Jaxson snapped.
“They’re challenging the police! I’ll hunt them down!”
Jaxson’s gaze flicked to my ankle.
He stiffened.
My ghost trembled.
Were they finally going to know it was me?
After our daughter Lily was born, I tattooed her birthday and our wedding date on my ankle.
The tattoo was violently destroyed.
But Darius would know it if he looked.
“Vaughn,” Jaxson said. “This looks like a forced-removed tattoo. Your wife Elena has one here—”
“Don’t you dare say her name!” Darius roared.
He spun to a rookie.
“Pull missing-person reports. Females 25–32, 5’6”, 88 pounds.”
I stared at him.
If he knew this was my body…
Would he still hate me this much?
