Chapter 1

The day I discovered my husband, Leo, was cheating, his health report arrived, confirming a severely weakened heart.

The doctor repeatedly warned me: "Your husband must avoid any strong emotions, especially when it comes to sex. He needs to abstain, or risk sudden death."

I nodded, but the moment I was out of sight, I tore up the report.

After that, I played the role of the tender wife, pretending ignorance of his affair, even deliberately creating opportunities for him to cheat.

Until one night, Leo died of sudden cardiac arrest while he was with his mistress, Eve.

Holding the autopsy report, I faced a sobbing Eve and said,

"You murderer, I'll see you locked up for life!"

Watching Eve's terrified, panicked face, I couldn't help but smile to myself.

His inheritance, plus Eve's compensation, would soon all be mine.

Our seemingly perfect, middle-class life, envied by outsiders, crumbled today.

Blown to pieces by two packages that arrived simultaneously.

One was a thick envelope from a private investigator, filled with countless photos.

My husband, Leo, walking hand-in-hand through the mall with a younger woman, kissing passionately in front of his car, and even entering a discreet adult hotel together.

The photos were blindingly clear. The woman's face was radiant, captivating—displaying a brazen vulnerability and dependence I had never once shown Leo.

The dates ranged from six months ago to just yesterday.

The other package was from the City Medical Center, containing Leo's comprehensive health report.

I had been casually flipping through it until my eyes landed on the cardiovascular section: severe coronary artery atherosclerosis, critical stenosis.

Warning: Extremely high risk of acute myocardial infarction. Immediate intervention recommended. Avoid emotional agitation, excessive fatigue, overeating…

Avoid emotional agitation?

I looked at the warning in the health report, then back at Leo's flushed face in the photos, eyes gleaming with excitement as he held that woman around the waist.

A frantic thought took root.

The blade of betrayal and the gravedigger's shovel – both handed to me at the same time.

The world fell silent for a moment. Then, a strange calm mixed with excitement enveloped me.

I didn't cry, didn't make a scene, didn't even feel the expected heartache. Only a cold, hard thing named revenge quietly solidified within me.

Well, Leo, you're having so much fun out there, but what happens when you burn yourself out?

As your lawful wife, it's my duty to help you replenish your energy, isn't it?

I picked up the health report, carefully tucking it into the bottom drawer. Then, I shredded the unbearable photos.

Afterward, I put on my apron and started preparing dinner.

The rich aroma of roasted pork ribs wafted from the kitchen – Leo's favorite, but also precisely the kind of dish the doctor had strictly warned him to avoid.

At seven sharp, Leo came home. His shirt collar had a smudge of glaring fuchsia lipstick.

He handed me his briefcase as usual, his tone carrying a subtle hint of perfunctory dismissal: "Lots of company stuff today, I'm exhausted."

I greeted him, taking his bag, my smile impeccably gentle: "You work so hard, Leo. Go wash up, I made your favorite roasted pork ribs, and I opened a nice bottle of wine to help you unwind."

Leo looked at me with a touch of surprise, apparently not expecting this reaction.

He probably anticipated an interrogation or a cold war. After all, just yesterday we had a huge fight because he'd "worked late" until dawn again.

But he was quickly drawn in by the aroma, a familiar, somewhat entitled look of satisfaction spreading across his face: "You're so good to me."

I watched him devour the thick, glossy pieces of meat slathered in sauce, watched him drain the wine glass I had filled. The stagnant pool in my heart stirred, a ripple of greasy satisfaction spreading through it.

Eat, drink, my dear husband.

This is only the beginning. Your good times are still to come.

On the surface, I remained Freya, the gentle, considerate wife. But in the shadows, I became the most patient hunter, weaving Leo's fate inch by inch with silken threads of tenderness.

Our daily meals were completely revamped, all under the guise of "nourishment."

Breakfast was no longer oatmeal and whole wheat toast, but sizzling bacon and eggs, paired with crispy, buttered white toast, and a high-sugar, full-fat chocolate milk.

Leo ate with a wide smile, praising my cooking and saying I'd become more "caring."

"Darling, you work so hard every day, so much brainpower. You need quality fats and protein."

I refilled his bacon, watching his slightly bruised eye bags with feigned concern.

"Your complexion still doesn't look great lately. Is work stress too much? How about I fry you a steak tonight to give you a boost? That's the most nourishing."

Leo mumbled a reply, eyes glued to his phone, fingers flying across the screen, a subtle smile playing on his lips.

I didn't need to guess who was on the other end.

My heart felt dipped in ice water, but the smile on my face grew even softer.

Dinner was the main event.

Lamb chops, steak, foie gras, ice cream… a rotating feast.

Fats and sugars are silent killers for the cardiovascular system, and I, with my own hands, disguised these assassins as a feast of love, feeding them spoonful by spoonful into my husband's mouth.

He ate until his mouth was greasy, occasionally touching his chest and saying, "A bit rich, I feel bloated."

I would immediately hand him a pre-prepared strong coffee or fresh juice, saying softly,

"Drink some coffee to cut through the richness, and juice for vitamins. Your stomach's just a bit sensitive since you don't go out much. You'll get used to it after a few more times. It's all for your health."

Occasionally, he'd cast a scrutinizing glance my way, but it would always melt under my impeccable concern.