Chapter 1

My husband, Doran Cox, was a crime novelist and a devoted husband who loved me to the core.

But my friend claimed she saw him with his first love, Zelda, at Atherands Hotel on New Year's Eve.

Furious, I stormed in with a group of people, ready to catch them in the act and ruin his reputation.

But when the door swung open, there was no steamy scene, just the thick stench of blood.

I saw Doran, dressed in a raincoat, methodically taking apart in ways that he'd written in his books.

He turned to me with a smile, his voice dripping with affection. "Don't be scared, sweetheart. This is a little appetizer.

"We'll take our time enjoying the main course."

My phone screen lit up with a message from my friend, Eloise Francis.

It read: [Wynne, I'm at Atherands Hotel. I saw Doran here.]

My finger paused in mid-air, as I was about to call Doran.

It was New Year's Eve, which also happened to be our third wedding anniversary.

He'd called me two hours ago, saying there was an urgent issue with a new book contract at the publishing house and he had to handle it himself.

He sounded genuinely apologetic. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. When I get back, I'll make it up to you with the best anniversary ever."

I laughed and teased him, "Doran, they are making you work on New Year's Eve? Is your boss some kind of slave driver?"

He chuckled on the other end, his voice gentle enough to melt butter.

He said, "What can I do? I'm his golden goose. Hang tight for me. I'll be back soon."

I believed him.

Doran and I had been together since college. For the past seven years, he was unfailingly gentle, thoughtful, and loving.

He was a top crime novelist in the country, with countless fans, but he always kept his reputation spotless, never a whiff of scandal or gossip.

On all his social media, his profile picture was always a photo of us together, and his posts were either about his new books or little glimpses of our everyday life.

My friends always said I married the kind of love everyone dreamed about.

But as I read Eloise's second message, my heart turned to ice, bit by bit.

It read: [He's with a woman, and they're really close. She looks familiar. I'm pretty sure she's his first love from college, Zelda."

My mind went completely blank.

Zelda had been a thorn in my heart for seven years.

She was Doran's unforgettable first love and the only woman he ever openly admitted loving.

If she hadn't left the country back then, I never would have been able to marry Doran.

I took a deep breath, my fingers trembling as I typed: [Are you sure you didn't make a mistake?]

The next second, a photo popped up on my screen.

In the dim hotel hallway, Doran's profile was unmistakable.

He turned his head slightly, talking to the woman beside him with a gentle smile on his lips. I knew that smile so well.

The woman was dressed in a white gown, her long hair cascading down to her waist. It was Zelda.

She'd only recently returned to the country.

My blood ran cold in an instant.

All that tenderness and all that bone-deep love felt like a sick joke at that moment.

I grabbed my car keys and stormed out of the house.

I said, "Send me the address."

"Wynne, calm down. It's New Year's. Don't lose your head!" Eloise called me right away.

"Room number," I demanded, my voice so hoarse it barely sounded like me.

Eloise went quiet for a few seconds, then finally said, "1608.

"Wynne, let me go with you..."

"No," I cut her off.

I hung up and slammed my foot on the gas.

The car tore down the empty streets. Outside, families celebrated, and fireworks exploded, all turning into a blur of lights against my window.

One thing burned in my mind.

I had to see it for myself.

I was going to ruin them.

I called up two big guys from the security company I usually worked with. They thought it was another cheating job and even tried to joke about it.

"Mrs. Cox, your husband's got some serious guts cheating on New Year's Eve," one of them said.

My lips twitched, but I couldn't bring myself to smile.

Standing outside room 1608, I could hear the faint sound of water running inside.

It felt like an invisible hand was squeezing my heart so tight I could barely breathe.

I gave the bodyguards a quick signal.

"Break it down," I said.

One of them pulled out a lock-pick kit, and in a few seconds, the door clicked open.

I kicked the door open and stormed in, rage and humiliation boiling inside me.

"Doran!" I shouted.

The indecent scene I expected wasn't there at all.

There was no steamy, intimate moment, and no heavy breathing.

Instead, a thick, sickening stench of blood, mixed with the sharp tang of disinfectant, hit me like a wall.

The living room was lit up so brightly it was almost blinding.

A huge plastic tarp covered the floor, stretching from the doorway all the way to the bathroom.

From the bathroom, the sound of water gushing echoed loudly.

I took one shaky step after another, each footfall feeling like I was walking on cotton.

The bathroom door was left open.

I saw Doran standing there.

He was decked out in a transparent raincoat, plastic gloves, and a face mask, his back turned to me.

Someone lay sprawled at his feet.

It wasn't a whole body.

It was a corpse that was hacked apart.

The white dress was soaked in blood, and a severed arm lay nearby, with a delicate bracelet still clasped around the wrist.

I recognized that bracelet. It was Zelda's favorite designer piece.

Doran gripped a sharp scalpel, dissecting the body at the joints with chilling precision.

His movements were steady, almost expert, like he'd done this a hundred times before.

The tools, the sequence, even the way he packaged the remains, mirrored the way the killer handled the first victim in his latest novel, "Blood Puzzle", down to the tiniest details.