My Husband Wants Me Dead novel (Esther and Bradley)

Bradley meandered through the streets of Capitus without a clear destination until a captivating scent reached him—a fusion of various spices blending harmoniously. Intrigued, he approached a barbecue stall and settled into a plastic chair.

The stall owner observed Bradley, noting his discreet wealth despite the absence of logo-covered attire.

“Dear, we’ve got a customer,” the stall owner announced.

The stall owner’s wife promptly removed her plastic gloves, retrieving paper and a pen from her apron. She handed Bradley a laminated menu with a warm smile.

“Sir, this is our menu. Take a look at what you’d like to eat.”

Bradley’s upbringing seldom exposed him to this kind of food. He might not have taken a seat if the roadside barbecue stall hadn’t appeared clean and hygienic.

“I’m alone. Just serve me what you see fit.”

“Do you have any dietary restrictions?” she asked.

“None.”

wife selected various skewers from a nearby freezer and put them on a plate. After the stall owner grilled the skewers, she then arranged them on a

Bradley paused. “What’s this?”

salted edamame. Want a

“Sure.”

a bottle

venting frustrations about a boss known for empty promises

bars, continually approached the stall to place orders. Amid the bustling activity, the stall owners, a busy husband and wife, engaged in affectionate conversation while efficiently serving their

enticed by the aroma,

due to his limited exposure to such cuisine,

spices tantalized his taste buds, and he gradually immersed himself in the pleasure of the

asked with a smile. “My husband’s barbecued

the

with the other patrons. “Is the