CHAPTER 1: CHAPTER 1: STRANGE TEXT MESSAGE

Ding!

Sienna Monroe had just reached the parking lot when her phone suddenly beeped with a text message notification.

Instinctively, she opened it, and a line of text appeared in front of her: [Don’t go to Riverwood Drive, it’s dangerous!]

It was from an unfamiliar number, without any contact name.

Riverwood Drive was the unavoidable route from her home to the Serena Art Museum.

And it was also the shortest route.

Sienna looked puzzled, assuming someone had sent it by mistake or that it was spam, so she didn’t give it much thought, got into the driver’s seat, and started the car.

The evening rush hour had already passed, and the road was smooth. While waiting at a red light at the intersection, her phone beeped again with a text notification.

The screen lit up. She picked up her phone and saw it was the same unfamiliar number, but the content was different this time.

[8:30 PM, chain-reaction collision on Riverwood Drive, don’t go!]

Sienna was slightly stunned, her brows knitting into a frown. It was seven minutes to 8:30 PM, and once the light turned green, a turn would lead her to Riverwood Drive.

Suddenly, her phone flashed with an incoming call from her assistant, Nora Joyce.

She put her thoughts aside, answered, and put the phone to her ear, "Hello."

"Ms. Monroe, you forgot to bring the watch you bought for Mr. Sinclair."

Sienna was taken aback; today was her third wedding anniversary with Caleb Sinclair. They had plans for how to celebrate this anniversary, but three days ago, he had to leave on a business trip unexpectedly.

The watch was something she had purchased a few days ago, and it had been sitting in a drawer.

She had taken it out this evening specifically to avoid forgetting it.

But she still forgot.

When she got the call saying he was back, she hurriedly grabbed her coat and phone and left.

Fortunately, Nora had a habit of tidying up her office every day before leaving work.

"I’ll come back to get it now."

After hanging up, her gaze fell on the text message. A few seconds later, with the honk of a car behind her urging her on, she saw the green light and reluctantly put down her phone, turning the car around to head back to the museum.

At the museum, Nora was already waiting at the door with the watch in hand.

Sienna walked over to take it, smiling gently, "Thank you."

On the way back, Sienna saw one, two, three ambulances speeding toward her, followed by several police cars and traffic police motorcycles, with sirens cutting through the night.

This is...

Sienna felt a sense of unease, her grip on the steering wheel unconsciously tightening.

At the intersection, her car was stopped by a traffic police officer, "There’s a chain-reaction traffic accident on Riverwood Drive; passage is prohibited."

Chain-reaction traffic accident?

Sienna’s heart raced, recalling the two text messages she had dismissed as pranks.

She couldn’t hear anything the traffic officer said.

The late autumn wind rushed into the car, yet she didn’t feel the cold, instead breaking out in a cold sweat.

It wasn’t until that intense feeling of having narrowly escaped danger surged through her chest that she snapped back to reality.

The traffic officer had already left.

Thinking of the text messages, she hurriedly pulled over, picked up her phone, opened the message, and typed: [Who are you? How did you know there would be a chain-reaction collision on Riverwood Drive?]

The moment she clicked send, a system message popped up: [Your message failed to send.]

Sienna tried sending another message patiently, but the response was the same: failed to send.

She decided to call back.

However, the expected ringtone didn’t sound. Instead, her screen displayed "Call failed."

What is going on?

The text won’t send, and the call won’t go through?

Sienna furrowed her brow in confusion, but before she could think further, Caleb Sinclair’s call came through.

"Sienna, how long until you get here?"

The male voice on the other end was warm and pleasant, like a gentle mountain breeze, dispelling all her pent-up emotions.

"There’s an accident on Riverview Road; I need to take a detour home."

Upon hearing this, Caleb’s tone immediately became tense, "An accident? Are you alright? Are you hurt? Where are you now, I’ll come and get you."

Sienna smiled softly, "I’m fine. I’m on my way back now."

Caleb, still worried, reminded her a few more times.

Sienna no longer dwelled on the text message, started the car, and took a detour to return home.

By the time she arrived home, the kitchen was already wafting with the aroma of dinner. As she changed her shoes, a tall figure in an apron appeared.

The man wore a white shirt and black trousers, with long legs, a handsome face, defined features, and a pair of warm, tender eyes beneath gold-rimmed glasses, though now filled with urgency.

"You’re really not hurt?"

Sienna spun around with a laugh, emphasizing, "Really, I’m fine. I was just stopped by traffic police on the way home."

Caleb scanned her up and down and let out a slow sigh of relief, "As long as you’re okay. After I got your call, I couldn’t even focus on cooking."

"Why did you decide to cook? It’s such a hassle; we could have just eaten out. You’ve been on a plane for several hours; you should get some rest."

Seeing him still in his travel clothes, Sienna’s heart softened, and her gaze turned gentle and serene.

Caleb chuckled, "I’m not tired; I rested on the plane. And besides, today is our anniversary. Not being able to accompany you to Valois for the Nebultan exhibit is a regret of mine. This is the least I could do, cook a few dishes you love."

In Sienna’s mind, Caleb was born into a prestigious family—tall, good-looking, gentle, considerate, meticulous, romantic, and passionate.

He didn’t smoke or drink, had a stable temperament, and could cook and take care of others.

They dated for three years and were married for three years. He took care of her meticulously.

Even though they had a housekeeper, Caleb often cooked her favorite dishes, doing many things that didn’t fit his status.

She could find no fault with him.

She walked up to him, wrapped her arms around his waist, buried her face in his chest, closed her eyes, and genuinely said, "How are you so good?"

Caleb dotingly stroked her head and softly replied with a laugh, "Silly, you’re my wife. If I’m not good to you, who would I be good to?"

After a long embrace, Caleb gently patted her back, kissed her temple, and coaxed, "I’ve still got something on the stove. Why don’t you go change and wash your hands? Are you hungry? There are just two more dishes before dinner’s ready."

Sienna stepped out of his arms and nodded, heading upstairs.

Caleb was inherently romantic, always finding ways to surprise her on their anniversary every year.

This year, although there was an unexpected incident, surprises still awaited.

When she came downstairs, the dining table was already set with candles, flowers, and a shell diamond necklace.

Caleb personally put it on her, his eyes gentle, "I thought it would suit you when I bought it, and it really does."

Sienna thanked him and gave him the watch she had prepared, "This watch should suit you too."

"Thank you, my love. Everything you pick, I love."

Caleb drew her into an embrace, ready to mark the sweet memory of their anniversary. But Sienna stopped him, "My period came."

"Wasn’t it a week away?"

Sienna looked up, "My period is always punctual, maybe off by a day or two at most."

Caleb paused, then buried his face in her neck, laughing, "Must have been those few drinks misleading me—I got it mixed up."

Sienna didn’t think much of it, genuinely believing he’d had a drink and mixed things up.

Until three days later, the mysterious number, quiet since the collision, sent a text again.

[The Crestview Hotel, 9 PM, Room 1408, Caleb Sinclair and Vivian Nash]