Valentine's Day Affair Turns Deadly Chapter 2

Yet, Chris merely narrowed his eyes, staring intently at the closet for a full ten seconds, a slight frown on his brow. Then he slowly lowered his head, muttering to himself.

“Heh, just getting ahead of myself.”

He resumed his task, but the speed at which he dragged the duffel bag and cleaned the blood from the floor noticeably increased.

The duffel bag was temporarily tucked into the bedroom corner, partially obscured by the curtain’s tassels.

Chris didn't immediately move it. Instead, as if nothing had happened, he meticulously checked his shirt and hands, ensuring no bloodstains, then opened the bedroom door and walked out.

Soon, the sound of a news broadcast drifted from the living room, a female anchor’s clear voice reporting on irrelevant international affairs.

Then came the sound of running water, the squeak of a wet mop on the floor, and his occasional off-key humming.

He was cleaning up, as normal and natural as any meticulous husband doing chores after work.

I bit my lip hard, letting the metallic taste of blood spread in my mouth.

I had to do something! I couldn’t just cower here like a lamb to the slaughter, waiting to die!

I forced myself to calm down, beginning to cautiously grope around the narrow, dark closet, filled with the smell of unnatural things.

My fingertips once again touched the cold, stiff body beside me, and the icy sensation sent my stomach churning.

I suppressed the urge to vomit and the extreme fear, carefully searching her body.

Maybe I could find something to identify her?

Or, find a weapon for self-defense?

Suddenly, my fingers brushed against something hard. It was on her hand, which hung limply at her side.

It was a ring, on the woman’s ring finger.

The design was highly unusual, like a snake biting its own tail, its body coiling, scales intricate, and its eyes set with two dark emeralds, glowing eerily in the faint light within the closet.

I knew this ring, a very clear memory of it!

Just a few months ago, I had seen its design sketch in a corner of a locked drawer in Chris’s study!

At the time, I’d curiously asked about it, but he had just casually dismissed it as an old practice drawing he’d long forgotten.

My heart pounded in my chest, threatening to burst from my throat!

This was evidence, irrefutable proof directly linking Chris to this unknown woman!

This unique ring was very likely the reason she was killed!

Trembling, I tried to slip the ring off her stiff finger, but the corpse was completely rigid, the joints unyielding. The ring was stuck at the knuckle, unmoving.

I dared not use force, fearing I’d make too much noise, so I had to give up for now.

Perhaps… perhaps leaving it, for the police to discover later, would actually be crucial evidence to incriminate him?

A faint flicker of hope ignited in my chest.

Just as I tried to shift my position to relieve my almost numb legs and feet, and continue searching for other clues, my ankle accidentally hooked an object deep within the closet.

It was a dusty, old wooden box, which slid further in when I nudged it, making a faint shhh sound as it scraped against the rough wooden floor of the closet.

The sound wasn't really loud, especially inside this fairly soundproof closet.

But at that very moment, the TV volume in the living room was precisely lowered, and the mopping sound stopped.

Heavy footsteps resonated, light but purposeful.

He stopped just outside the bedroom door, utterly still.

Through the thin door, I could almost feel his gaze, palpable and predatory, scanning the entire room.

My palms were drenched in cold sweat, clutching tightly the small, decorative button I had instinctively torn off my jacket earlier.