My Ex-Wife Owes Me Blood：Vengeful Shade

Three years after I died, nothing grew near the estate.

The grass turned black. The trees twisted inward, skeletal and choking. Anyone who wandered too close collapsed within hours—fever dreams, screaming fits, unexplained wounds opening across their skin.

The tabloids called it a plague. A curse.

They called it me.

The headlines screamed: "Dead Detective's Vengeful Spirit Terrorizes Town—Former Fiancée Breaks Silence."

My wife and killer Serena had no choice. The board was watching. Her new luxury development—the crown jewel of her empire—sat less than two miles from my rotting estate.