“Sir, Your Wife Faked Her Death, I Know Where She is”…The poor girl told the billionaire and he…

For a moment, his body forgot how to breathe.

“What did you say?”

“Your wife didn’t die,” the girl said, voice shaking but firm. “She faked her death. And I know where she is.”

He rose slowly from the mud, towering over her.

“Who sent you?”

“Nobody.”

“Who are you working for?”

“No one. I sell bread at a market. I came because she told me to.”

He almost laughed from the sheer madness of it.

“My wife has been dead for two years.”