Dying in a Coffin of Fake Love

In the darkness, a suffocating weight crashed down on me, sending sharp, agonizing pains radiating through my chest.

It all made sense now.

Celia Ashford had been the one who told my wife, Emilia Sinclair, to abuse me, only to pursue me herself and woo me into giving up everything and faking my death just so we could be together.

The woman who'd promised to marry me was planning to hold a wedding with Wyatt Mercer right after burying me alive.

But I had woken up too early. Worse, there wasn't any food or water in the casket, and the cramped, narrow space was choking the air right out of my lungs.

Through the thick wooden lid above me, Celia's voice sounded muffled, yet her words pierced through the dark like a knife, pinning me to the floor of the casket.

"Back then, when Wyatt's identity as an illegitimate child came to light, his engagement to Emilia ended up going to his younger brother, Elliot.

"Wyatt lost everything that day, so I made it my mission to help him take back his power and status. I promised Wyatt I would always have his back.

"As for Elliot, I've had Emilia hurt him all these years as punishment. Letting him go now is doing him a favor. Besides, he's hopelessly in love with me that he'll spend eternity trapped in the beautiful pipedream I spun for him."

The person beside her hesitated, their voice tinged with a hint of pity.

"But Elliot has no idea that faking a death means an actual, physical burial. Leaving a living person underground for seven whole days is incredibly reckless. On top of that, he's terrified of the dark, and he has claustrophobia. What if something goes wrong inside that—"

"It won't," Celia replied in a tone that brooked no argument. "The Mercers are meticulous, so the performance has to be flawless. It's only seven days. In reality, the sedative will only wear off for two of those days, so what could go wrong?

"Besides, Emilia swore she'd lock him in the closet every time she was done beating him up. He should be used to it by now. Wyatt waited five long years for this opportunity. We need to make sure everything goes off without a hitch.

"Once the dust settles and Wyatt and I are legally married, I'll get a fake marriage certificate overseas to keep Elliot fooled. We'll keep him comfortably taken care of overseas and never let him come back home."

The sound of their footsteps gradually faded, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't make a sound.

The drug had left my mind completely lucid, but I couldn't move a muscle, let alone speak.

As my claustrophobia took hold, I bit the tip of my tongue and forced myself to stay calm, though my back was already soaked with sweat.

The pitch-black darkness reminded me of my five-year marriage to Emilia.

Every single time she mistreated me, she would lock me away in the closet.

The agonizing memories flooded my mind like a tidal wave, causing my stomach to twist into knots.

Two years ago, during another one of those incidents when I was trapped in the closet, Celia had been the one to save me.

The moment she opened the door, I thought I had seen an angel. I truly believed she was the light that would banish the shadows from my life.

From that day forward, Celia pursued me relentlessly.

She tended to my injured body, comforted my broken heart, and told me I had to be brave enough to stand up to Emilia's cruelty.

How pathetic it was that I mistook her for my saving grace.

I had no idea that every bit of suffering I had endured was done at Celia's behest. She instigated Emilia to hurt me, only to play the hero to heal me.

And all of it had been for my older brother, Wyatt.

I bit down hard on my lip, desperately willing my body to move.

All of a sudden, I heard the door click open outside.

The click of a man's leather dress shoes gradually neared, followed by Wyatt's voice.

"Celia, are you sure Elliot will be fine down there for seven days? The burial is scheduled for today. He is my brother, after all. I can't help but feel this is a bit too cruel."

It felt as if I had seen a ray of hope in the dark.

Inwardly, I screamed with everything I had, "Please save me! Please open the casket and look inside. One look is all it'll take for you to realize I'm awake. I don't want to be buried alive, and I don't want to suffocate in the dark!"