My Wife Went Mad After Seeing My Body in the Freezer Chapter 2

Karen cast a doubtful glance at the foreman, her gaze landing on the photo he placed before her. The moment her eyes focused on it, her pupils contracted sharply.

The image showed a figure, barely recognizable as human. The body was contorted into an unnatural, agonizing curve, covered head to toe with cuts, bruises, and swollen welts. Blood streaks ran across the face, obscuring any identifying features. The skin was a patchwork of dark purple scabs, with no unbroken area to be found.

The fingernails appeared to have been ripped out, exposing raw, bloody tissue beneath, where nerves and flesh were left mangled and torn. From the state of the body, it was clear—the person in the photo was long, irreversibly dead.

Karen froze for a moment, her eyes widening involuntarily.

But soon, she broke into a cold, mocking laugh. "The makeup job is impressive. For a second, I almost believed this was Daniel."

"Do you really think I'm stupid enough to fall for this? How could he possibly end up like this? All he does here is eat, drink, and work in the mine. What could’ve hurt him this badly?"

"And," she added with a sneer, "if he really was dying, why wouldn’t he be taken to a hospital? No, this is obviously fake!"

Her words stabbed at me like knives. Floating invisibly above her, I felt a deep ache in my hollow chest.

It was her, after all, who arranged for me to be "taken care of," ensuring I could never leave. How could I have died here in such misery if she hadn’t ordered it?

I remembered the last time they beat me. After that, I couldn’t hold on anymore. I knelt on the ground, begging the foreman to call her.

But she had only relayed a single message: "If he’s going to die, let him die quickly. Don’t disgust me with his whining."

Even though Karen had clearly stopped caring about me, my will to survive still burned.

I smashed my head against the ground repeatedly, the sound echoing through the grimy room. Blood mixed with dirt, forming a dark, sticky sludge that dripped down in slow, heavy drops.

The foreman, perhaps out of some faint flicker of pity, finally spoke to me. "It’s not that I don’t want to let you out. It’s just… what’s the point?"

"You got money? The nearest hospital’s hundreds of miles away. How do you plan to get there? And don’t forget, all your ID—everything that proves who you are—is in your wife’s hands."

"Just hold on. If you make it through this, it’s fate. If you don’t… well, that’s fate too. Next time, kid, marry someone kinder."

His words made me laugh bitterly. Fate, huh?

I collapsed onto the floor like a deflated balloon, utterly defeated. Blood bubbled up from my mouth, but I swallowed it back down, forcing myself to crawl toward the dormitory. Maybe I could rest there for just a little while.

But rest was a luxury I couldn’t afford anymore.

Ten minutes later, the foreman had me dragged from my bloodstained bed and thrown back into the coal mine.

That was where I finally collapsed for the last time, never to rise again.

Karen glanced at the foreman, whose face was filled with unease, and let out a cold scoff.

"Enough with the theatrics! Stop wasting my time!"

"Tell Daniel to get his ass out here. If he agrees to donate his kidney, I’ll let him go—and I’ll even throw in an extra $20,000."

Floating above them, my spirit felt colder than the bitterest winter wind.

So this was it. My kidney was worth $20,000 to her. Less than the cost of one of the designer jackets she’d bought for Michael.

Let alone the millions she’d casually spent on that concept supercar for him, a gift she didn’t even blink at.

Her indifference? That was reserved only for me.

All her love—all her warmth—was saved for Michael.

The foreman continued to try to explain, but Karen was stubborn, convinced that I was hiding somewhere and that the two of us were conspiring to deceive her.

"You said he’s dead? Then where’s the body? The grave? A single photo isn’t proof of anything!"

"I’m warning you—if you don’t hand him over today, I’ll make your life a living hell."

With no other option, the foreman gritted his teeth and led her outside to a barren patch of land.

Pointing at a small, overgrown mound, he said reluctantly, "This is where we dumped him."

Karen’s face darkened as she issued a cold, cutting order to her bodyguards.

"Dig. I want him found—alive or dead."