Fortunate to Have You This Lifetime - Chapter 974

Chapter 974: Chapter 974: Escape_1 Chapter 974: Chapter 974: Escape_1 “I love you too,”
Jane McCain’s spirits soared.

The table was laden with her favorite dishes; she picked up a curry shrimp tail from a plate and bit into it–it was piping hot, a sign that the person had only just left.

Humming a tune, Jane, elated, began to put away her luggage and headed to the bedroom.

Once she had changed into comfortable home clothes, she felt much lighter. Spotting the paper rose she had brought back, a sudden idea occurred to her. She grabbed a pen and scribbled a message on the banknote rose–
I love you. It will never change until death.

Such a trinket, given outright, wouldn’t mean much. It needed to be hidden somewhere he would find it by chance, to add an element of surprise.

But where should she hide it?

Jane looked around the room, searching for a suitable spot. Then she remembered her husband had a buffalo leather tote bag; placing it there would be perfect.

However, her husband highly valued privacy and never allowed anyone to go through his belongings.

Jane respected this because she hated it when someone rummaged through her bags or phone. But just slipping something inside should be okay, right?

She retrieved the tote bag from the wardrobe, opened it, and placed the rose inside.

As she was about to close it again, she caught sight of an inner pocket with a combination lock–locked tight.

Surprised, she wondered what could be in the bag that required such security. If important documents and bank cards were right out in the open, what else could be more valuable?

Jane felt around through the leather. The space inside was bulging.

“Could it be love letters from an old affair partner?” she half-joked to herself.

Jane knew a bit about this brand of tote bag; the inner pocket featured a vintage brass combination lock, more decorative than practical. Typically, it came with a default combination and could be reset later, but the process was quite tedious. Most customers found it too bothersome and never bothered to reset it.

She fiddled with the tumblers and set the numbers to the default combination. With a crisp click, the lock opened.

A smug smile crossed her face as she reached inside and felt a stack of papers, which she then pulled out. They were identity documents and a collection of newspaper clippings.

Unable to suppress a chuckle, Jane thought, “How quaint. Who collects clippings like an old man nowadays?”

She wasn’t overly concerned and was about to replace everything when something felt off, prompting her to take a closer look.

The name on the documents didn’t match her husband’s.

Could this be his old name?

Jane frowned in thought, then continued to rummage in the pocket, discovering two more sets of identity documents, each with the same face but different names and birthdates.

What was going on?

No normal person would have so many sets of ID.

Opening the folded clippings, she found that each piece of news related to the Black Rose serial killings.

…The Black Rose!

In an instant, Jane’s face turned pale, and her grip weakened, scattering the documents and clippings all across the floor.

Frozen in place, she remained unmoved for a long moment.

A voice screamed inside her head: Run!

But her feet might as well have been nailed to the floor–paralyzed!

What to do? What could she do?!

Her lover, the man she adored, was he the serial murderer the police had been chasing for years? How… how could this be?!

He was so humorous and witty, so polite, so genteel, so… so loving towards her! How could he murder her?!

Could she have made a mistake?!

Jane was on the verge of breakdown!

Then bit by bit, reason began to pull her back to reality.

She realized she had to escape.

Run.

Run right now!

Jane snatched up her phone and dialed Purple Summers’ number as she rushed out.

With no time to change her clothes, as soon as the call connected, she blurted out, “Purple, listen to me…”

Suddenly, the front door opened, and a man walked in holding a bunch of black roses, his smile warm and welcoming, “Janie, you’re back.”