Mga Maiikling Kuwento at Nobela Fake Death

Three months after Pete took his foster sister as his mistress, I terminated my marriage, chose to die on paper, and vanished from his life entirely. One quiet morning, I handed my child over to the nannies arranged by the family and walked out of the Rizzuto estate alone. Pete didn’t chase after me that day. He believed I would come back. Once I had calmed down, I would lower my head. The following spring, I was diagnosed with cancer. Standing in the hospital corridor, I suddenly remembered years ago— Pete had taken my hand and said, “You’ll be the finest Donna this Rizzuto family has ever had.” What pulled me back was not Pete. It was a letter from Sicily. Thin paper. Cold, rigid handwriting—the kind favored by old families who had ruled too long to bother with sentiment. “The heir has begun showing signs of emotional instability.” “Recent violent behavior has caused internal concern.” “There is disagreement within the family regarding the current Don’s judgment.” In the mafia world, there is only one reason the elders would bypass a man and reach out to a wife officially presumed dead— When the family itself begins to lose balance. So I returned. To the place I had once fled with everything I had. This time, there were no illusions. I no longer placed any hope in emotion. I was there only to fulfill the obligations of the family. I knew exactly how much time I had left. And I knew exactly what needed to be done. I became a proper Donna.

Five years married to Marcello, and I find out he's no street punk. He's the Don. The head of New York's McCarthy family. While I was pinching every penny, he was dropping millions at auction, buying a fortune in diamonds for Camilla, his dead best friend's widow. He even took the baby I nearly died giving birth to. Gave him to Camilla. He stroked my hair, his voice soft and cruel. "Camilla and I, we grew up together. She was carrying Ethan's kid. If she knew her baby died... she couldn't take it." "We'll have other kids," he said. I said no. So he threatened my family. I gave in. But I made a promise to myself: I was leaving this man. I secretly signed the papers to be a combat medic. I ship out in seven days.

When I woke up from a three-year coma following a car accident, everyone around me started treating me like I was made of glass. Terrified that something might happen to me again, they micromanaged every hour of my day, making sure I was never left alone. My brother took the morning shift, accompanying me on walks and workouts as I slowly rebuilt my strength. In the afternoon, my best friend kept me company, taking me shopping or to the movies so I would have something to do. In the evening, my parents would take me out for big, hearty meals, insisting that I needed to eat well to get my strength back. Then my boyfriend would come pick me up and take me home. Nestled in his arms before falling asleep one night, I gave a soft chuckle. "You guys don't have to walk on eggshells around me. I'm a grown woman. I'm not going to let anything happen to me again." Donovan O'Brien shook his head, his expression grave. "Violet, you mean the world to all of us. None of us could survive going through that agony a second time." My heart swelled with warmth and happiness, almost to the point of suffocation. That feeling lasted until I accidentally stumbled across a group chat on my best friend's phone, one that included everyone except me. The group was called "Protect Donovan's True Love", and the latest message was from my best friend. Thea Leblanc: [Violet and I just sat down in the theater. You're clear to bring Cheryl home now.] I scrolled upward and found a message from my brother. Neil Sanford: [I'm walking Violet in the park by her building. Donovan, don't bring Cheryl over here for breakfast today.] Further up were messages from my parents: [Violet just finished dinner. Drop Cheryl off and come pick her up.] I tapped on the profile picture for the woman they were talking about. The moment I saw her face, I froze. An icy chill ran straight down my spine. The very woman who had put me in a coma for three years was now with my husband. And the people I had believed loved and protected me had been covering for them the entire time.

At our college graduation, my fiance suddenly proposed to Lillie Stewart, my best friend, in front of everyone. I became a joke in front of everyone. Right after Lillie accepted my fiance’s proposal, Lloyd Becker, heir to the biggest mafia family on the West Coast, publicly said he loved me. Lloyd was known in the mafia world for being serious and never getting involved with women. So, when he showed an interest in an orphan like me, it made the news. We got married, and for five years, he was so sweet and treated me like a princess. But one day, I accidentally overheard him talking to his friend. “Lillie is already set to become the future lady of the Gacira family. Are you really going to keep the act up with Nelly?” “If I can’t have Lillie, it doesn’t matter who I marry. As long as I’m with Nelly, Lillie can live peacefully.” He even gave Lillie the symbol of the Becker family’s lady. He helped Lillie build her career while letting me fade into the background. After five years of marriage, I finally understood. On our fifth anniversary, I pretended to die in a shooting so he could be with the woman he truly loved. But instead of being happy, Lloyd completely broke down.

When I was three months pregnant, Stella Falcone, the principessa of an allied family, was also carrying another man's child. To preserve the alliance, my Mafia lover, Matteo Gallo, had to marry her. "Stella is Don Falcone's only daughter. In our world, alliances are worth more than sentiment." "Ava will understand." What Matteo forgot was that I had no one but him, and that the child I carried was the true Gallo heir. Later, as everyone mocked my unborn child, calling him a bastard who would taint the bloodline, Matteo stood by with his new bride and did nothing. That was when I learned that in this world of blood and secrets, love was the most worthless currency of all.

After my wife died, I stayed on as a chauffeur for a female CEO just to keep myself and our daughter fed. Five years later, an anonymous message reached my phone: [Tonight. Eight o'clock. The little garden. There's a surprise waiting for you.] I didn't know what to make of it, but curiosity won out, and I went anyway. The moment eight o'clock struck, I looked through the window and watched the CEO peel a mask of human-like skin off her own face. Underneath it was, unmistakably, the face of my dead wife. Beside her, Marcus Kane shot me a scornful look before pulling her into his arms. "Sweetheart, you're too good to me," he said. "Giving up your husband and daughter, hiding your identity, just to help me build this business empire." He let out a theatrical sigh. "Then again, maybe you should go back to him. Cooper has had it rough. I could probably manage taking care of little Tobias on my own..." She melted against him. "Don't be silly. If I left, what would people think of you, raising a child alone? Back when Francesca died in that accident, my heart broke for the two of you—a widower and his little boy with no mother. So I made the mask that very night, and let the world believe I was the one who'd died." "Cooper is strong. He can handle a little hardship. I'll pay off what I owe him and our daughter in the next life." I stood frozen, tears sliding down my cracked, calloused hands, stinging where they fell. With nothing left to lose, I gave my reply to an anonymous number: [Alright. Let's work together.]

After three years in a psychiatric hospital, I finally escape. Three years ago, I watched my fiance, Ethan Cregger, die in a car accident right in front of me. Already born with a heart condition, I spiraled under the weight of grief. Then everything else fell apart. My family lost everything. Dad seemed to age overnight. Mom cried until there were no tears left. Adrian Mercer, my childhood friend, gave up the money he'd saved to study abroad just to pay for my treatment. Even my younger sister, Mia Bennett, worked three jobs and begged me through tears not to give up on life. Not wanting to burden them any further, I voluntarily admitted myself to a psychiatric hospital. Three years later, I finally make my way back to our old family estate, now supposedly sold, for one reason. I want the bottle of wine Ethan and I buried together years ago. But through the floor-to-ceiling windows, I see a dead man—Ethan. He is alive and well, with his arm wrapped around my sister. My parents look happier and healthier than ever. Adrian is placing a birthday hat on the young boy standing between them. Everyone claps and sings, gathered around the cake like one big, happy family. And suddenly, I understand. Ethan never died. He simply built a new life with my sister. While I spent three years trapped in the past, everyone I love moved on without me. They created an entire lie just for me. Fine. If they've already decided there's no place for me in their lives, then I don't want them anymore.

Damian was the fearsome don of a mafia family, but I was his sole weakness. In order to marry me, a poor girl from the slums, he was punished by his family sixteen times, and the scars on his back remained terrifying, even to this date. To make me happy, he killed one of the best arms dealers in the world just to get the blue crystal I had mentioned offhandedly once. He built a manor named “One and Only” for me and swore that I was his one and only true love. I had thought that our happiness would last forever, until the day I saw him cradling a pair of twins in another manor. The twins’ mother was my mortal enemy. She had once had someone break my ribs and stuff dirt into my mouth. Hence, on the day of our wedding anniversary, I prepared a grand gift for him: a private jet that exploded and plummeted into the ocean, along with a charred wedding ring. In my world, betrayal never led to forgiveness, only abandonment.

My husband, Hank, is dead.  On our wedding anniversary, he ventured out in the pouring rain to buy me a cake, only to be hit by a truck. His body was badly mangled in the crash.  My sister-in-law, Lyra, called me a killer, claiming that I did not deserve Hank’s inheritance.  My mother-in-law, Judy, kicked me out of the house.  Overwhelmed by grief and guilt, I often wondered if he would still be alive had I stopped him that day. Eventually, emotions gripped me, and I was diagnosed with cancer.  Judy came to visit me on my deathbed. “You’re an idiot to believe everything!”  She threw a family photo in my face.  The shock and anger were more than I could handle, and I breathed my last.  It turned out that Hank was never dead. He had a child with his old flame.  When I opened my eyes once more, I returned to the day my husband faked his death.

In my past life, my mate Marcus ran off to the forest to make love with my best friend Scarlett, who was eight-month pregnant. That’s when they'd be surrounded by a pack of rogue wolves. Scarlett, heavy with child, started bleeding heavily. Both of them desperately called for the Border Guard. As the Chief Warrior, I had risked everything to fight those rogue wolves. But Scarlett still died along with her unborn pup. My mate Marcus led others to accuse me of using my position for personal revenge. He personally severed both my hands with a silver blade. "A warrior without morals like you deserves to burn in hell!" he snarled. But I remembered clearly—when I drove off the rogues and got the pack healer to Scarlett, she barely had a scratch on her. Finally, Scarlett's parents arrived. I begged them to examine her body and investigate the truth. Instead, they reported to Alpha that I had neglected my duties. They claimed I was high on wolfsbane while guarding the border. Alpha exiled me for fifteen years. With both hands severed, I had no way to fight or shift properly. I survived by begging scraps from neighboring territories. Fifteen years later, I returned to the pack. I saw my mate Marcus walked through the airport's first-class terminal with Scarlett and their son. They were using my inheritance to fund their luxury vacation to the Maldives. They spotted me. Without hesitation, they pushed me into a silver pit to destroy all evidence. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day Scarlett faked her death. This time, I took one look at the scene and declared them beyond saving. I told my assistant to send them to bury them directly.

In my previous life, no one loved me except my Alpha mate, Grayson. My parents and brothers treated me like a mobile wolf essence bank for my sister Victoria. But Grayson remembered I was afraid of the dark and quietly left a nightlight after my essence transfusions; he kept my casual mention of "wanting to find a quiet place to paint" in his heart, and casually gave me $5 billion to buy my favorite forest. When I confessed my feelings to him, though he was shocked, he still accepted my confession and promised he would definitely mark me. God knows how happy I was then—the person I liked actually liked me too. I only realized when I was dying that his kindness towards me was predicated on my continued donations of wolf essence to Victoria. After my rebirth, the first thing I did was spend five billion dollars to buy an isolated forest. "Miss Ember, are you sure you want to purchase this forest? If you buy it and move in, it'll be nearly impossible to contact the outside world." I nodded, my voice carrying a hint of relief. "That's exactly what I want—somewhere no one can reach me." But when I really left, why did my family and Grayson go crazy and beg me to come back?

I was the lowest-ranked Omega in the Moen pack. However, my fiancé Silas Moen was the Alpha who stood above us all. I thought the bond the Moon Goddess had made between us could never be shaken. That certainty lasted until his long-lost childhood sweetheart returned. Brynn, the flawless, highborn werewolf with an ancient bloodline. In front of my parents and brothers, before more than a thousand members of our pack, he made his announcement. "I, Silas Moen, as Alpha, reject you. "Brynn and I were promised to each other long ago. She's back now, and you should step aside for her." The instant he finished, something inside my chest ripped apart. I collapsed onto my knees on the altar's frozen stone and tried to scramble toward him to demand an explanation. Nobody in that silent crowd stepped forward. My father looked away and said coldly, "Brynn has already suffered for years out there. You shouldn't fight her over this." My eldest brother, Rian Valentine, blocked my way. "Talia, it's time you saw yourself clearly. You're no match for Brynn. "If you insist on opposing this mating, I'll sever our family ties." The System detected that Silas's affection level for me had fallen to zero and activated automatically. [Talia, this assignment has failed. Your heart is predicted to stop in ten days, after which a new body will be created for you. Do you confirm that you wish to abandon this assignment?] Even as I lay facedown in the frozen mud, I couldn't help laughing. Failed? No. I could finally leave. I had no strength left to love, but death would set me free.

By the third year of Waylon Ratliff's affair, I had completely lost my mind. I leaked private photos of his assistant, Jenna Gilmore, all over the internet. Then, I poured gasoline over myself and threatened to drag everyone down with me. Jenna was so terrified that she fled the city that very night. I thought I'd won. Well, I couldn't have been more wrong. To cover my legal fees and compensation claims, my brother sold his house. When that still wasn't enough, he turned to loan sharks. Eventually, the debt became too much for him to bear, and he jumped from the roof of a high-rise. The last thing he left behind was a voice recording. His voice was hoarse and exhausted. "Sydney, please stop. There's nothing left. Mom and Dad have already lost everything. They've aged overnight. I can't do this anymore..." My mom clutched his belongings to her chest and cried until she passed out. Meanwhile, my dad seized my throat with his trembling, slim hands, yelling until his voice broke. "How many more people do you need to ruin before you're satisfied?" Tears slipped silently down my cheeks, and that was when I finally came to my senses. After that, I stopped obsessively investigating every woman who got close to Waylon. I stopped demanding an explanation every time I found a lipstick stain on his collar. One night, I even caught him staring at an old photo of Jenna. The longing in his eyes was obvious, but instead of making a scene, I told him to bring her back. Then, Jenna's birthday came around. As she blew out the candles, she made a wish. She wanted to be Mrs. Ratliff for real, even if it was only once. So I printed out the divorce papers, signed every page, and placed them in front of her. Waylon snatched them away before she could touch them and ripped them in half. Then, he seized my chin and forced me to look at him, his gaze piercing. "What happened to you, Sydney? You used to swear you'd rather die than divorce me. So where did all that stubbornness go?"

"I don't want to go with you on this business trip," Lucy Landon said at the dinner table. Her voice was calm, so calm that no one could sense anything unusual. Steven Cooper's trip was set for June 1st. It wasn't their wedding anniversary, nor was it anyone's birthday. Just an ordinary Children's Day. Three days ago, she had stumbled upon a voice message on Steven's phone. A child's soft and childish voice had said, "Daddy, for Children's Day, I want to go to Maldove to see the fishes!"

On the day I donated my kidney, I never thought my wife, Rebecca Tanner, would cut open her own heart and confess her regrets. After all, she had staged her own death in a bombing, all so she and Mason Sanders could test my loyalty. All she left me was two billion in gambling debt and a contract selling me into slavery. The creditor said they would leave her body in the grave and spare it from being fed to the hyenas. But to do that, I had to sign a contract with my blood and become their pet from then on. After that, I was locked in an iron cage beneath an underground fighting ring. By day, they chained me up and forced me to lick the blood from the winners' shoes. At night, they injected me with drugs and threw me into the fighting ring, turning me into a living toy for the wealthy to bet on. One broken rib doubled the stakes. One lost tooth added another ten thousand dollars. When I heard that my parents had been stripped and thrown into the mouth of a volcano alive, I broke completely. Covered in blood, I snapped the iron chain and rushed to the volcano. Instead, I found my "dead" wife gently lighting Mason's cigarette. Mason puffed out a ring of smoke and sneered. "We still have ten seconds left on the bet, Rebecca. You've lost."

When the Kane brothers turned eighteen, my father asked my adopted sister, Bianca, and me to choose one of them as our personal guard. Their father had died protecting mine, and my family had raised them inside the Moretti estate ever since. Gabriel chose Bianca. I was left with Julian—a silent, deeply traumatized boy everyone believed had lost his voice in the shooting that killed his parents. For seven years, I took him to specialists, learned sign language, and trained to protect myself because I didn't want my family to cast him out for being unable to speak. Then our yacht sank. Julian tore the last survival suit from my body and gave it to Bianca. As I drowned, he spoke to me for the first time. "I'm sorry, Elena. I want Bianca to live. If we have another life, I'll repay the one I owe you." When I opened my eyes, I was back on the day we chose our guards. But this time, I would never choose him again.

I stand before the grave of my late wife, Casey Hill, having repaid her debts for five years. When I return home, I realize that our dog, Pudding, has gone missing. It is the only memory Casey has left me. I search everywhere frantically, eventually finding it hovering between life and death in an alley. Standing at the side is a girl. She points at Pudding and laughs gleefully to her friends. "Are you guys seeing this? This little guy is tough. We've played with it for so long, and it's still breathing!" I shove her aside and pick it up, my eyes bloodshot. The blood on Pudding's fur makes my heart ache so much I can hardly breathe. The girl utters a yelp as she falls to the ground. Furious and embarrassed, she picks herself up and kicks me hard in the head. "You bastard! How dare you push me for this filthy little beast! Do you know who my mom is?" With my head spinning from the blow, I suddenly hear a woman's voice. "Jenna, what's wrong? Who bullied you?" I snap my head up. There it is, the face I have wished to see in my dreams for the past five years.

"The Donna is very pleased with the son you gave her, but she'd like a daughter to keep her company too." Not long after I'd given birth, Don Elias Voss pinned me beneath him and took me again and again, all because of those words. Ten months later, I gave them the daughter they wanted. But the moment I heard her first cry, all I could do was watch as she was carried away. The maid beside me wiped away my tears like it was nothing new. It was the second time. Everyone knew that five years ago, in a shootout, Vivian Voss, the family's Donna, had been badly wounded protecting Elias and could never have children. If not for that, I'd never have ended up in his bed. I was only the nanny's daughter, even if we'd grown up together. I was Elias's first love. I'd already given him two children. Yet to the entire Voss family, I was nothing more than a vessel meant to bear children. My only purpose was to give Vivian heirs and secure her position as Donna. Two years ago, I gave birth to my first child. I thought I'd at least get to hold him. Instead, Elias took him away himself and warned me. "This child belongs to Vivian and me. Remember your place. "Either he becomes the heir of the Don and Donna, or he lives his life as an illegitimate child hidden in the shadows. You should know which to choose." After that, my son, Felix Voss, became first in line to lead the family, while his birth mother swept floors as a maid. Just to catch one more glimpse of my son, I volunteered for every chore on the estate that would take me inside the main house. At first, Elias let it go. That changed when Vivian spoke up. She said the way I looked at the boy made her feel as if I were coveting her child. After that, I was assigned to work in the gardens and banned from the main house altogether. And now, two years later, my daughter had been taken from me too. I never even got to see her face.

After my family went bankrupt, my husband, Felix Skye, paid the price. The debt collectors drowned him in the river. To pay off the debt, I took a job at an underground casino as a human punching bag. Every punch I took earned me five dollars. Then one night, I was sent to deliver drinks to a private room. Through the crack in the door, I saw Felix, my husband who was supposed to be dead, sitting at the head of the table and slowly savoring a glass of fine red wine. "It's been more than three years since I last saw Avery. I wonder how she's doing." My supposedly bankrupt mother, Ivy Schotz, sat there dripping in gold and jewels. She sighed. "She'll just hide away and grieve for a few years. Once she's over it, she can remarry. "No matter what," Mom went on, "as long as she believes you're dead, you and Riley can finally live in peace." Riley Mackenzie was the daughter my mother had with her first love. Every face in that room was familiar, including my best friend and the very "enemies" who had supposedly killed Felix. It had all been an act from start to finish. The only thing real was the three years of hell I'd lived through. Holding twenty bottles of beer, I smiled and shook my head. Once I scraped together enough money for my coffin, they would all be free.

My lawyer husband, Chester Stratton, and our five-year-old son were kidnapped. By the time I arrived, the bomb had already detonated, and they were reduced to ashes before my eyes. My older sister, a prosecutor, had tried to help me track down the culprit, yet even she was captured and tortured to death. Everyone said my ruthless methods had earned me too many enemies, that they had suffered because of me. They said I should have been the one to die. Even the Criminal Investigation Division stripped me of my position. For three years, I secretly hunted for the mastermind. Until one day, my investigation led me to a restaurant. There, I saw my husband, my son, and my sister—the three people who had supposedly died three years ago. They were all sitting together, celebrating a little girl's birthday. Friends and relatives surrounded them, smiling as though nothing had ever happened. Fury surged through me, and I was about to storm over and demand answers when my best friend grabbed me from behind, refusing to let go. "Audrey, I know you can't accept this, but they're husband and wife now. If you make a scene, how are you any different from a homewrecker? Phoebe got pregnant with Chester's child three years ago. Everyone knew how ruthless you could be. Faking their deaths was the only way they could escape you." Beside her, my mother fixed me with a warning look. "It's good that you found out. For the past three years, Phoebe and Chester have been forced to move from place to place with their two children. It broke my heart to watch them live like that. Now, their family of four is finally happy. If you just walk away, everyone will forgive you." The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. I looked at the people before me and laughed until tears streamed down my face. So Chester and my sister had never died. While I had spent the past three years drowning in grief, they had been living peaceful, happy lives. And everyone had known the truth. Everyone had conspired to keep it from me.