Save My Wife from Deadly Setup

On the day of my wedding anniversary, I receive a strange photo from a friend back home. "Why is your wife working at a nightclub?" his message reads. In the photo he sent, my wife, Gwendolyn Shaw, is wearing a tight-fitting skirt. She looks utterly miserable as a group of men forces alcohol down her throat. I am the richest man in Shenton City. So why on earth is my wife entertaining men for money at a nightclub? Before I can question her about it, she sends me a selfie from a hospital checkup. "It's been three whole years since you left the country, honey. I miss you so much…" I stare at the photo in disbelief. My beautiful wife has shaved her head. Her skin is dry and sallow, and she's draped in a filthy black trash bag. I rub my eyes again and again, unable to believe that this is what has become of my beautiful, elegant wife. I've always encouraged Gwen to be frugal, but surely she didn't need to go to such lengths to save money? Shocked, I immediately book the earliest flight back home. The moment I arrive at the airport, my father's adopted daughter, Peyton Young, comes to pick me up. She's all decked out in designer clothes and lavish jewelry. But the instant she opens her arms to hug me, I freeze. The limited-edition watch on her wrist is worth millions—and it's the exact watch I gave Gwen as a birthday present last year.