Fake Death Short Stories & Novels

In our most loving year, Hugh Thorne and I make a pact that neither of us will ever ask for a divorce—because whoever does will end his or her own life. I immediately grab a pair of scissors and stab him in the neck when he first tells me that he wants to give Beatrice Lane, my heartbroken best friend, a home. He repeatedly brings up divorce over the next two years, while I repeatedly refuse to let him go. Then, after his 99th attempt to get a divorce fails, Hugh jumps into the river. Everyone claims I am a madwoman and a jinx who killed her husband. Mom and Dad cut ties with me and take in Beatrice as their goddaughter. I am completely on my own after that. I work three jobs a day to make ends meet and raise Nicholas White, the child Hugh and I share. It is the third year after Hugh's death, and I receive a call from a former classmate of mine. "Are you coming to the class reunion this weekend, Mia? Hugh will be there too." In that instant, my mind goes completely blank. I can barely hold the phone because my hand is shaking so hard. It turns out that Hugh is still alive! My former classmate excitedly explains over the phone, "We're doing something different this time! Everyone has to bring something that will surprise the others, and whoever loses has to pay for the meal!" I have to bring something that will surprise everyone, huh? I hang up the phone and instantly arrange for someone to draft a divorce agreement for me.

For ten years, I lived as an invisible daughter in my own family. My parents and brother never forgave me for the death of Emily, the adopted daughter they truly loved. They gave me a room, money, and their last name—but never their affection. When our cruise ship sank, they sacrificed themselves to save me. For one foolish moment, I thought it meant they had finally chosen me. Then my brother spoke his last words. “We’ve regretted bringing you home for years. If we hadn’t found you, Emily would still be alive.” “If there’s another life, please don’t come looking for us again.” Only then did I understand. They hadn’t saved me because they loved me. They were only repaying the daughter they wished they had never found. So I released the life ring and let the ocean take me. When I opened my eyes, I was back before the day I reunited with my biological family. This time, they remembered our previous life too. Certain I would still beg to become their daughter, they offered me money, a house, and a place in their lives—as long as Emily remained their only daughter in public. They thought I would eventually accept. They didn’t know I had decided to give them exactly what they wanted—a life in which I never became their daughter.

My husband, who's a negotiation expert, allows his intern to recklessly anger some criminals. It causes me, the hostage, to suffer severe injuries in the explosion, and my right leg breaks because of it. Yet, my husband once again issues a letter of forgiveness for her. "My wife, as a reporter, ignored warnings and forced contact with the criminals to get the scoop. The main responsibility lies with her. Kimberly, being a newcomer, should not bear major fault." I don't cry or make a scene. I simply pull out a divorce agreement. However, he sneers at me. "I know you're just jealous and want me to comfort you, but don't cross the line." For the past three years, I've brought up the topic of divorce 47 times, and each time, he treats it like I'm just throwing a tantrum. But it's different this time. His name has already been signed on this divorce agreement. As long as I add my signature to it, it will take effect immediately.

Walter Stone has built a utopia for his private brothel with a ton of money with the proclamation that he wants to collect 100 wives. After kidnapping and forcing himself on 99 women, Walter has his eye on me, Caleb Ingram's pregnant wife. On the day I'm supposed to be sent to Walter, my housekeeper sinks down to her knees and pleads for me. "Please think your decision through, Mr. Ingram! I heard that Mr. Stone Senior is very brutal when it comes to bedroom matters! If Mrs. Ingram were to be sent to him, I'm afraid that she wouldn't be able to protect her unborn baby…" But Caleb remains cold and aloof. "Since Mr. Stone Senior has personally asked for Nala, she has to go to him no matter what. If she loses the baby, then that's that. At most, I won't file for a divorce from her. Once she returns, she'll still remain as the missus of the Ingram family. We can have another baby in the future." In my previous life, I refused to travel to Walter's residence. In the end, Caleb's private assistant, Sadie Riverson, offered to go in my place. But the moment she came back, she slit her wrist and died. The coroner's autopsy report showed that she was pregnant as well. Caleb kept his emotions bottled up since then. But on the day I gave birth to my baby, he walked to the rooftop of the hospital and threw our newborn down the building. Only then did I realize that he had been hating my guts the whole time since Sadie's death. Now that I've gotten reborn, I no longer resist against the chains of fate. Instead, I get into the luxury car Walter has sent for me coolly.

The night before my wedding, my mom got into a car accident—she needed a blood transfusion, fast. Her blood type was rare. Mine matched. I was pregnant, but I didn't think twice. I donated. While I was bleeding out, losing my baby, my fiancé, Joffrey Habsburg, and his brother—my so-called childhood friend—Mateo, were busy holding Nancy's hand during her cosmetic surgery. I begged Joffrey to save my mom. Only then did he bother to pick up a scalpel. When it was over, he said, "Surgery failed. She's gone." Two days later, I overheard Nancy purring through the door, wrapped around the Habsburg brothers. "Mateo really is a racer—he hit that old hag dead on. And Joffrey? You were amazing too, making sure she didn't survive the surgery. Thanks to you both, I got Lori's blood for my operation."

My wedding to Don Lorenzo Corsica was always 'almost.' Five years engaged. Thirty-two weddings. Every single one crashed and burned. Then came number thirty-three. Halfway through, the chapel wall caved in. I landed in the ICU. Skull fracture. Major concussion. A dozen critical alerts. Two months stuck between life and death. Then I clawed my way back. On discharge day, I caught him talking to his right-hand guy. "Don, if you're really into that scholarship girl, just dump Ms. Mortoro," the guy said. "Corsicas can kill gossip. No need for staged accidents... She nearly died." Lorenzo went quiet. Then finally, "I owed her parents. They died for me. Marrying her was the only way to repay that. But I love Sofia. She's the one I want." I looked down at my stitched-up body and cried without a sound. So it wasn't fate that wrecked me. It was him. If he couldn't choose, I'd do it for him.

The heir to Ashbourne's most powerful family was hopelessly in love with me. We met when we were children. When we turned 17, he couldn't wait any longer and confessed his feelings. At 20, he sold his favorite heirloom bracelet to buy me a rose-quartz necklace and told me I would always be his princess. At 24, I was diagnosed with leukemia. He donated his bone marrow to save me, despite his family's wishes. At 30, he became a business titan. One day, he proposed to me in the grandest way possible via a global livestream. No one would have believed that a man so devoted had secretly been keeping the fake heiress who framed me by his side for three full years. All those years of love suddenly seemed like a dream, and now… I had been slapped awake. So, I made arrangements to fake my death. From that moment on, he and I would never see each other again.

My family goes bankrupt when I'm ten years old. Just like that, I become a fallen heir overnight. Instead of letting me struggle, my dad, Steven Hollister, raises me with even greater care. He insists that I'm the family's only hope. I spend the next eight years living like a porcelain doll. My skin can't have so much as a scratch. Every meal is measured down to the last calorie. I'm forbidden from taking gym class or touching anything sharp. If I come home with even the smallest cut or scrape, Dad berates me for days. My younger brother, Michael Hollister, on the other hand, is given complete freedom. He skips school and gets into fights. Dad barely gives him a second glance. "He'll never amount to anything," he says with a dismissive wave. "This family is counting on you." On my 18th birthday, Dad excitedly announces that the company is finally going to recover and that we'll be rich again. He throws me an extravagant birthday party, but the guest of honor is a young man about my age seated at the head of the table. During dinner, the stranger openly sizes me up from head to toe before nodding in satisfaction. I assume he's the investor who's about to save my family. That night, I happen to glance at Dad's phone just as the screen lights up. A notification shows a massive wire transfer. The payment note reads, "Final payment received. We'll deliver the goods as scheduled."

My older sister, Bianca, fled with her lover the night before she was supposed to marry Adrian Vescari. The marriage secured a truce between two Mafia families. If Bianca failed to appear, the Bellandis would lose the Commission’s protection—and might not survive the winter. Because Bianca and I looked almost identical, my father forced me into her wedding dress. Adrian recognized me the moment he lifted my veil. “You’re not Bianca.” I expected him to expose the deception. Instead, he said, “Since you’re already here, stay.” So I stayed for seven years. Adrian protected me, cared for me, and made me believe I was more than Bianca’s replacement. I gave up traveling with my camera and devoted myself to his estate, trusts, and family, waiting for the day I could finally stand beside him under my own name: Mara Bellandi. Then Bianca came home. She claimed she had been forced to flee on the eve of the wedding because someone was trying to kill her, and that she had spent the past seven years in hiding. Adrian believed every word, carried her into our home, stayed at her bedside, and said he owed her everything she had lost. As Bianca began reclaiming her inheritance, her place in the family, and pieces of my marriage, I returned to the Bellandi cemetery. There, I found my own grave. My parents had declared Mara Bellandi dead on the night I married Adrian. While I lived as his wife, the world believed I no longer existed. If everyone needed Mara Bellandi to disappear, I would give them exactly what they wanted. This time, I would arrange my own death. When I woke again, Mrs. Vescari would be gone.

Natalie Underwood and Damian Abbott were high school sweethearts. Both of them were the most good-looking students back in high school, and when they began dating, they were the most well-known golden couple on campus. There was once when they had made a vow to get married once they reached the legal age to do so. But just when their love for each other reached its peak, Natalie suddenly broke up with Damian before leaving the country with a rich scion. On the day of their break-up, Damian chased after Natalie for a very long time with red-rimmed eyes. To think that a young man as prideful as him kept begging her not to break up with him. He kept promising her that he would be successful one day. Damian begged Natalie not to act so rashly. He pleaded with her to wait for him and not to fall in love with someone else. But Natalie remained cold and aloof to him. She didn't even want to waste her breath on him. Heck, when she witnessed him getting into a car accident during his pursuit, she didn't bother returning to him. It was an extremely serious car crash. Damian's kidney was completely ruptured. He needed a kidney transplant in order to survive. Although he was lying on the surgical table while drenched in his own blood, he insisted on getting up so that he could call Natalie on the phone. But the calls that he had mustered all of his strength to place ended up getting hung up by Natalie repeatedly. For as deep as Damian's love for Natalie ran, hatred could run just as deep. From that day onward, Damien had nothing but burning hatred for Natalie.

Hubert Parker and I had been together since our teenage years. We went from innocent first love to planning a lifetime together. But a week before our wedding, he died in a sudden accident. I cried until I nearly passed out, only to see strange messages flashing before my eyes. [Can someone please tell the poor female lead he’s not really dead?] [Hubert’s secret lover ran away after hearing about his wedding. He faked his death that very night and flew overseas to chase her. The female lead’s crying by his grave while the mistress is crying in his bed. This is killing me!] [What a pity. When he finally came back, she knew nothing and still married him with a smile…] Half a month later, news spread across Ashford that I was engaged to the heir of one of the city’s most powerful families. One of Hubert’s closest friends confronted me in disbelief. “It hasn’t even been that long since Hubert passed, and you’ve already found someone new?” “He’s gone. I can’t spend the rest of my life in mourning, can I?”

Vincenzo Costa and I have been in love with each other for eight years. Everyone knows that the heir of the Costa family loves me more than life itself. In order to marry me—an orphan—Vincenzo has knelt outside Costa Estate for three days and three nights. At the same time, he has received 99 whips from his father, the Don of the Costa family, which almost kills him. In the end, Don Edmondo Costa finally agrees to let Vincenzo marry me. But the catch is, Vincenzo must date Sofia Camorra, the Principessa of the Camorra family, and have an heir with her. So, Vincenzo tells me to wait for him for a little longer. I end up waiting for a very long time while watching him traveling to Sofia's villa time and again. At first, Vincenzo still takes three showers and scrubs his skin so much that it turns red. He tells me that once Sofia has given birth to the child, which allows him to fulfill the promise he has made to the Costa family, he'll whisk me far away from the violence and spend the rest of his life with me. Alas, everything has changed. Vincenzo no longer showers frequently. He constantly smells like Sofia's perfume now. He doesn't inform in advance whenever he goes on dates with Sofia. To make things worse, there's nothing but affection in his eyes whenever he looks at her. When Sofia burns up from a fever during her pregnancy, Vincenzo doesn't leave her side at all. She pretends to be gracious by telling him about how understanding she is about his situation. Because of that, Vincenzo wastes no time in admonishing me for being spoiled and pampered. Through the gap in the ward door, I can hear how close and intimate Vincenzo and Sofia are. At the same time, I notice the flash of provocation in Sofia's eyes. Vincenzo has made me wait year after year, not knowing that my biological parents have already found me. They want me to go home with them so that they can give me a real home. That's why this time, I won't be waiting for Vincenzo anymore.

The day the Thorne family announced our engagement, the New York underworld let out a collective sigh of relief. Because I was set to marry Daemon, the most straitlaced Don in the city, which meant I could no longer be the wild rose who tore up the racetrack. But I resisted with every fiber of my being, finding creative ways to test his limits. During his ten-million-dollar card game with a rival family's Capo, my hand "slipped" and sent a bottle of 1945 Romanee-Conti spilling across the ancient map that outlined their territories, sabotaging the entire negotiation. Daemon, however, just slowly and deliberately wiped the wine from the back of his hand. He didn't even frown as he cleaned up my mess. Then I "accidentally" let my spirited Arabian stallion loose in his immaculately manicured courtyard. The beast went wild, trampling his prize-winning rose garden into mud. But he arrived with his private doctor in tow, crouching before me as his long fingers gently traced the scratch on my arm. "Did the beast hurt you?" Just that one question, and my heart melted completely. "Daemon, I can marry you. But before that, has there ever been another woman who owned your heart?" "I don't share my man. Not in any way." He pointed to his heart, his gaze unwavering as he met my eyes. "Before you, this was empty." After we married, the word on the street in New York's circles of power was this: If you angered Don Thorne, his Donna might plead your case. But if you angered the Donna, you were on your own. Even I began to believe that Daemon, that mountain of ice, would eventually melt for me. Until the day I went to find him, clutching a positive pregnancy test, bursting with joy. Only to hear the family's Consigliere ask him, from the top-floor study, what the best lie he'd ever told was. Daemon chuckled and said casually, "She asked me if anyone had my heart before her." "I told her no."

Three nights ago, I was locked inside my own family’s underground wine cellar. When my congenital heart condition hit, I called my husband, Zane Corleone, and begged him to come save me. He didn’t come. Instead, he stayed with another woman all night because she was afraid of the dark—and told me to stop faking it for attention. That was the moment I finally understood. If he cared that much about her, then I would do the one thing neither of them expected. I would make room for her. In three days, I would disappear from his world completely.

After confessing 101 times to my childhood sweetheart, Morgan Lambert, he marries his first love, Cassandra White. With my heart in ruins, I leave him behind and marry his younger brother, James Lambert, who has pursued me relentlessly from the start. After marriage, James dotes on me to an extreme. His love is bold and intense. Everyone says I am unbelievably lucky to have married such a devoted man. As Cassandra and I sink into the water together, I can only watch as James dives in recklessly. He struggles through the water toward her, giving her mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. I thrash and struggle in desperation, begging him to look at me even once. He never does. His entire focus is on getting her to shore, leaving me behind to be swallowed by the sea. While I am unconscious, I hear him and Morgan fighting violently in the hospital, arguing over who gets to stay by Cassandra's bedside. He roars in anguish, "I sacrificed myself by marrying Elsa so she wouldn't stand in the way of you and Cassie's happiness. Can you at least let me see Cassie once?" That is when I finally understand that none of them has ever loved me. I immediately arrange to fake my death, preparing to vanish from their lives completely. Yet after hearing the news of my so-called death, James—who's always calm—loses control. He pushes Cassandra aside, bends over, and coughs up blood. Overnight, he seems to age decades.

Everyone in Frostmoon Pack knew that Cassian loved me. He stayed by my side through every heat cycle. On storm-heavy nights, he would shift into wolf form and coax me to sleep. Before the council of elders, he once declared: “Lyra is my only Luna.” So I had never imagined he would betray me too. The day I found out I was pregnant, I received a set of photos from his former lover. In them, Cassian was bare-chested, with fresh bite marks still visible along his neck. She sent only two lines: He does love you. But last night, he didn’t refuse me. I didn’t cry. I didn’t confront him. I only called my best friend. “Help me arrange a false death.” She was silent, then asked in a low voice, “Have you thought this through? You’re carrying a pup.” I touched my stomach. “I have.” “And contact the witch for me. I want my mate bond with Cassian severed.” Five days later, there would be a fatal wreck on the mountain road beyond the pack borders. When Cassian arrived, all he would find was the burned frame of the car and a handful of ashes that were supposed to be Lyra’s.

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."

The day I find out I'm pregnant, I also discover my husband is cheating on me. To think that Brock Emerson, a celebrated OB-GYN, is sleeping with his own protegee, Wendy Blair! I strip Wendy's clothes off in front of the entire hospital, humiliating her for everyone to see. After that, the staff group chat turns into a daily betting pool on whether I'll show up to cause another scene. When Brock pulls me off the balcony railing yet again, he drops to his knees. "I've already had Wendy transferred. What happened that day was just an accident. You're all I care about." I give Brock two choices—either he sends Wendy to prison, or he signs the divorce papers. He personally submits evidence of Wendy's medical malpractice and chooses to stay. From then on, every year on the anniversary, I visit Wendy in prison to ease my grief over losing my child. On one of those visits, as I sign the log on my way out, I overhear two janitors talking. "That poor woman still hasn't figured out it's not really Wendy in there. It's just some actress they hired as a look-alike." "Dr. Emerson was scared she'd lose it again and hurt Dr. Blair, so he paid to build a whole fake prison wing just to keep her fooled. He and Dr. Blair are the real thing." "I heard their baby turned one today, and the whole family's celebrating together. They couldn't be happier." My blood runs cold. I can't believe what I'm hearing. The whole time I think we're starting fresh, Brock already has another family.

My brother was dying. He needed an operation. So I finally took the deal from my boyfriend's father, the Don. A million dollars to leave Rocco Valeriano, the sole heir to the Valeriano family. It drove Rocco mad. After a family war, he was covered in blood. Refused any treatment. Until his father had no choice but to bring me back. Rocco lay in that hospital bed, a gun to his own head. His eyes were dark with obsession, yet full of love. He threatened desperately, "Ava. Marry me, or I die right here." He forced my hand. He got what he wanted. But on our wedding night, he didn't say a word. He just tore my clothes off and took me with a punishing force. When it was over, he grabbed my chin. He spat, "Gold digger. You'd do anything for money, right? Well, from now on, you get nothing." Five years of marriage. He had mistresses everywhere, all of them dripping in jewels. As for me, I was the Donna in name only. My credit cards were frozen. I needed his approval just to buy a coffee. Then my brother's illness came back. I begged him for a five-grand advance to save his life. I begged him all night at his private club. He gave me ten dollars. And a sneer. He mocked, "A woman who betrayed me for money. This is all you're worth." I clutched that ten-dollar bill and cried next to my brother's corpse until I couldn't breathe. Meanwhile, Rocco was spending a fortune on a birthday party for his new girl. When I woke up, I didn't cry. I didn't scream. I just found him, perfectly calm, and threw the divorce papers in his face. He gave a scornful laugh. He scoffed, "You want a divorce over five grand, Ava? Seriously?"

In my previous life, my husband suffered a sudden brain hemorrhage and died instantly in his office. When I arrived at the hospital, all that awaited me was his lifeless body. Overwhelmed with grief, I coughed up blood and was bedridden ever since. On my deathbed, I happened to see a news report—my husband had won a $15 million lottery. Standing beside him at the prize ceremony was none other than my best friend. The shock killed me on the spot. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my husband had just died.