In that instant of receiving Freya's call, had I been in my local city, I would've rushed to either call the police or gather funds to rescue her.

However, now stranded in a hotel on a business trip, I was unable to leave.

My only option was to urge Roy to go check on Freya.

To my surprise, he outright refused to believe me.

Roy's tone dripped with sarcasm over the phone. "I already told you, if you keep overreacting like this, I'll just switch off my phone."

Before hanging up, I desperately tried to stop him, saying, "Why can't you trust me? Just go check, even if it's only to confirm your mother's safety!"

Coldly, Roy retorted, "This morning, I had just finished eating my mom's cooking. Jennifer, seriously, even if you're pulling my leg, at least scribble down a rough draft of your plan!"

The call ended abruptly, leaving my unspoken words trapped in my throat.

Helpless and disheartened by Roy's disbelief, I couldn't help but shake my head, deciding that maybe it was all just a misunderstanding if he deemed it so.

Moreover, if Freya was truly in trouble, her first instinct would be to call her son, not me, someone with no blood relation and with whom she rarely interacted.

With a heavy heart, I composed myself and resumed focusing on work.

After a long afternoon of meetings, I finally glanced at my phone.

Immediately, I noticed multiple Instagram notifications from Emma Cruise.

Her posts almost took over my feed, each showcasing meticulously edited glamour shots, revealing Emma's curvaceous figure in revealing outfits.

The latest post, however, struck a nerve.

It featured a silhouette of a man's back, along with a picture of two hands making a heart shape. The caption read: [Thanks to someone for treating me to a photoshoot worth five thousand dollars a set. Love you forever!]

The hand in the picture sported a ring identical to mine, and the silhouette was undeniably that of my husband, Roy.

The comments section was filled with praises and speculations.

[Emma not only has a great figure but also great luck!]

[Yeah, what's a divorce? Even if Emma got divorced, she'd still have a bunch of high-quality men chasing after her. Even Roy is no exception!]

[But speaking of Roy, wasn't his family background just average? Didn't he break up with Emma back in college because he didn't have money? How come he's suddenly so extravagant now?]

Amid the sea of comments, Emma's single reply stood out: [Because of love.]

As I clutched my phone tightly, a wave of realization hit me as I recalled Roy's modest means.

Indeed, Roy's family was indeed not very well-off. They weren't even comfortably middle class.

Throughout our marriage, I valued his earnestness and dedication, never once focusing on his financial status. I had brought everything into the marriage, including a car, a house, and a wedding gift of over 300 thousand dollars.

Roy willingly handed over his paycheck for safekeeping, informing me of any expenditures exceeding three thousand.

However, upon checking the prices of Emma's recent photoshoots, each valued at over five thousand, I felt the color drain from my face.

Hastily opening the banking app, I froze upon seeing our account balance remaining exactly as it was, untouched.

I couldn't help but wonder, "Where did Roy acquire the funds for such extravagance?"

Before I could make sense of it all, an unfamiliar number called once again.

It was the same one as before.

Without hesitation, I answered.

On the other end, Freya's voice trembled with fear, barely recognizable.

"Jennifer, please save me... They're going to chop my hand, blood... so much blood!"

Amidst Freya's cries on the phone, there were also the rough voices of several men.

They were cursing Freya in a dialect I couldn't understand. Freya's voice was hoarse from crying. It was evident that she was in extreme fear.

I panicked. This didn't seem like an act at all.

"Mom, tell them to wait, I'll call Roy and ask him to go save you!"

But to my surprise, when I tried calling Roy again, it rang only twice before the message "The number you have dialed is currently switched off" echoed in my ear.

My mind went blank.

In five years of marriage, Roy had never switched off his phone or ignored my calls like this.

I had no choice but to send him a text, urging him to visit his mother as soon as he read it.

Throughout the day, I couldn't stop checking my phone, waiting for Roy's reply.

By nine in the evening, there was still no response.

I instinctively opened Emma's Instagram page. As expected, there was a new post.

This time, it was a picture of a hotel's white bedsheets, with a mirror reflecting the intimate embrace of a man and a woman.

Even though their faces weren't visible, I could still recognize them. It was Emma and Roy.

The caption read: [He said, "Now you can be all mine!"]

A feeling of something heavy in my chest exploded within me.

I thought, "Did they really... go to a hotel together?"

I stared at the photo, zooming in repeatedly to confirm that the man was indeed Roy.

A sense of utter defeat washed over me, leaving me powerless.

I suddenly felt like a joke in these five years of marriage.

Emma was Roy's girlfriend from college, and they broke up before graduating due to their differing family backgrounds and values.

After their breakup, Emma quickly moved on and got married shortly after graduating.

Roy couldn't get over the heartbreak.

I was the one who silently stood by him, helping him heal day by day.

Two years after graduation, he proposed to me with a not-so-attractive plain ring, his face filled with anticipation as he asked, "Jennifer, will you marry me?

"These years, you've been so good to me. I love you, and I want to build a home for you with my efforts, to love and protect you!"

The vows we made back then were still vivid in my mind.

But it wasn't until Emma's return from her failed marriage that Roy changed.

He started working overtime frequently, sometimes not coming home at night.

Once, when I worried about him and video-called, I caught a glimpse of Emma in the background.

He explained, "Emma's back, feeling down, and doesn't know anyone, so I'm just keeping her company."

He promised to come back soon, but that night, he didn't return.

The next day, when I saw him, there was a lingering sweet scent of perfume on him.

That was the turning point, leading to more and more arguments between us.

The breaking point came on our wedding anniversary.

Roy had promised me a surprise and a gift to celebrate our fifth anniversary together.

But he stood me up.

I waited from day to night, all the way past midnight, into the next day, but he never returned.

He never came back.

Later, I found out that Emma's pet dog was sick with diarrhea, and he spent the entire night taking care of her without informing me.

We started giving each other the cold treatment. When I went on a business trip, we hadn't spoken in a long time.

If it hadn't been for Freya's sudden call from an unknown number, we might still be ignoring each other.

Seeing Emma's hotel Instagram post, I clenched my fists, contemplating divorce for the first time.

At three in the morning, I received another call from that unknown number.

Fear constricted my heart. It was likely Freya again.

When I answered, heart-wrenching screams pierced through the phone.

"Ah!! Help me..."

It sounded like something had been slashed, and even over the phone, I could hear the gruesome sound of flesh tearing apart.

"Mom!"

I was stunned, thinking to myself, "Could these kidnappers really be planning to kill Freya?"

Instantly wide awake, I shouted into the phone for what felt like ages, but there was no response from the other end.

After five seconds, a gruff male voice came through the phone.

"Tomorrow at noon. If we don't see two million by then, we kill that woman."

Sleep eluded me completely; the matter was a matter of life and death. I hurriedly dressed while dialing Roy's number.

On the other end, he was probably still asleep, as the phone rang twice with no answer.

I kept calling. By the eighth attempt, Roy groggily picked up the phone.

As soon as he answered, a faint female voice, seemingly just awakened, asked, "Roy, who is it?"

The voice, though soft, was crystal clear to me!

It was Emma!

They were sleeping together!

"Jennifer, what on earth do you want? It's the dead of night, can't you just let me sleep?"

Roy, clad in slippers, seemed to be heading towards the bathroom.

In a fit of madness, I blurted out, "Roy, are you even human? I've called you so many times! Your mother is in trouble. Why can't you believe me?

"The kidnappers called at three in the morning, saying if they don't see two million by noon tomorrow, they'll kill her!"

Roy muttered a curse under his breath.

I thought he believed me, but to my surprise, he angrily slammed the phone down.

"You've really lost it, Jennifer. I'm warning you, if you dare joke about my mother again, we're getting a divorce!"

The call ended, leaving me with a sense of powerless chill.

I had given him so many chances.

But he just didn't trust me.

In the end, I called the police.

I couldn't tell them where the kidnappers were holding Freya, so I handed over the strange phone number and the call recording to the authorities.

At dawn, I immediately applied to my company for urgent leave to return.

Upon learning of the life-threatening situation, my company allowed me to buy a ticket back, but the journey from Costaland to our city was a long drive of over ten hours.

I purchased the most expensive flight and train tickets, rushing to make it to the city's railway station before noon.

However, as soon as I stepped off the train, I saw the news on a large screen.

In a pool of blood lay a middle-aged woman, her limbs heavily injured and multiple stab wounds in her chest.

It was Freya!