Ethan frowned, already thinking this was some kind of scam. He pulled the phone away from his ear and checked the screen. The number really was unfamiliar.
His face turned cold. "You probably have the wrong number. I don’t have a wife anymore. We’re divorced. I’ve been single for a few days now."
After the divorce, Isabella had moved out right away.
In a burst of anger, he’d taken back everything he’d given her, including the little villa and the car.
She walked away with nothing.
But still, it wasn’t like she’d just die. She could always find a job, support herself. Before she married him, she’d been working odd jobs and getting by on a few thousand a month. That was enough to live on.
The voice on the line said, "Mr. Adams, we didn’t dial wrong. The body’s face was slashed, but we can still tell it’s your wife."
"We also found her phone at the scene. There was no password, so we checked her contacts and saw your number."
Ethan paused, then said, "Fine. I’ll send someone to check it out. I don’t have time for this."
"That’s fine."
After hanging up, Ethan called his secretary and told her to go to the address the police gave and see what was going on.
He was still sure the cops had made a mistake. There was no way Isabella was dead. She was always causing drama, always stirring things up. She’d had a million close calls but somehow always survived.
People like her just never seemed to go away. Isabella was the type to keep causing trouble for years. Dead? No way.
The secretary got the call. She also doubted it could really be Mrs. Adams—or rather, the former Mrs. Adams.
They’d divorced just days ago.
It wasn’t public yet, but everyone close to Mr. Adams already knew.
To everyone at the Adams Group, Mrs. Adams was way too much. She’d show up at the office and create a scene over nothing. She had a mean streak, too, and always picked on Natalie.


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