Buried as Fertilizer for My Wife's Roses

I lay limp on the muddy ground, my limbs twisted in a strange, contorted posture. My face had been smashed in, the center caved in and sunken. Blood seeped into the mud and mingled with it.

Right after, I was shoved into a wood chipper in the countryside and shredded alive. My flesh and blood blended with the muddy gore before being scattered across the rose garden.

Just the day before yesterday, I had been preparing a birthday gift for Yvonne. But now, I was nourishing a sea of roses with my own flesh and blood, offering it to her as a gift.

And all of this began when Fabian came back.

The first time I saw him was at the welcome-home party last Sunday.

He was dressed in a haute couture suit, standing beside our mother, Natalie Weiss, who had him linked by the arm. He was looking at the lavish party with his back slightly hunched with timidity.

I clearly saw a flicker of disdain flash through Mom's eyes.

Meanwhile, my father-in-law, Cedric Foster, was taking me around to meet other prominent figures, so he didn't see the dark, sinister look in Fabian's eyes as he stared at me.

My parents said that living in the countryside had given Fabian a simple, honest, and guileless character. Thus, out of a sense of indebtedness, I'd been constantly thinking about how to teach him to navigate the business world in the future.

That was until the day before yesterday.

I had just finished booking the hotel for Yvonne's birthday. She had always wanted a sea of roses, so I had planted the roses a whole year in advance, just waiting to give them to her on her birthday this year.

Wanting to suddenly appear and surprise her, I pretended I would be away on a business trip and would be back a few days later. By the time the plane landed, I could already picture the look of surprise in Yvonne's face.

I had only told Fabian about this, because he said he wanted to build a good relationship with the Foster family.

He drove the Bugatti Yvonne had given me and pulled up grandly at the airport entrance.

To avoid being recognized and to keep the surprise from being discovered, I was practically covered from head to toe, in disguise.

After I got into the car, the doors locked, and Fabian sped off. I was especially exhausted from the long flight, so I fell asleep as soon as I got in.

I didn't wake up until the car let out a deafening screech of a sudden brake.

Fabian yanked me out of the car, and only then did I realize my entire body was limp and powerless. I couldn't resist at all.

He grabbed me by the collar and slapped me across the face repeatedly. I was completely stunned by the blows. I had never imagined things would go this far.

He was wearing a different haute couture suit, looking utterly out of place in the desolate, uninhabited wilderness around us.

He stomped hard on my stomach, and I let out a sharp hiss of pain. Then, he kicked me in the face with his leather shoe.

"Nathaniel Madden, you've stolen over 20 years of my life of wealth and privilege—how are you going to compensate me? Huh? Say something! You even stole Yvonne.

"A woman that extraordinary, and you took her away too! If it weren't for you being the Madden heir, Yvonne would never have given you a second glance!"

Blood seeped continuously from the corner of my mouth.

My marrying Yvonne had nothing to do with my family's name. Besides, my family wasn't powerful enough to catch the Foster family's eyes anyway.

In other words, Yvonne and I married for love.

I wanted to explain, but the metallic taste of blood flooded my throat, making me cough uncontrollably.

"Let me tell you something, Nathaniel—you're a useless man, and you don't deserve Yvonne at all! If you hadn't stolen my identity, I would be the one standing beside her right now. You're nothing but a freeloading, spineless fool! A country bumpkin!"

I was enraged by his words, but the pain wracking my body left me utterly incapable of fighting back. I looked at Fabian's twisted, contorted face and felt completely consumed by despair.

"You think Yvonne would willingly stay with you, you fake heir? You'll never be anything but an imposter!" he continued, laughing maniacally.

He turned on his phone, and Yvonne's voice came out of it. It was a video—she and her friends were at a gathering.

"Ugh, stop talking about it. I've been sick of Nathaniel for ages."

Fabian stared at me, his face hideously distorted. "Hear that, Nathaniel? Yvonne's been sick of you for a long time. You're an imposter, a disgrace not fit to be seen in public. If I were you, I would've killed myself already! You really are shameless!"

But I remembered I was there too when Yvonne said that. The very next thing she said was, "He keeps buying me this and that every day, and I've already told him I don't need any of it."

I never expected that Yvonne's tough words masking a soft heart would be twisted into evidence that I was living off her.

Fabian's gaze landed on the watch around my wrist.

This watch was Yvonne's fifth-anniversary gift to me. She pulled every string, called in every favor, and spent a small fortune to make it happen. She told me if I ever lost it, she'd stop loving me for good.

Desperate to protect the watch, I mustered the last shred of my strength to pull my hand back. But Fabian stomped down hard on my fingers.

His eyes were filled with nothing but greed and envy.