Caesar Ape Death

Three days after his first love Mandy's death, my husband locked me in a steel cage and sank me into the ocean. "You vicious woman," he spat. "Stay here and repent to Mandy!" He didn't know I carried his child. I thrust the pregnancy confirmation toward him, but he walked away without a backward glance. Yet when he later saw my corpse—bloated and decomposing in the seawater—he went insane.

By the third year of my mate bond with Caesar, the reigning Alpha, the she-wolf who had once abandoned him returned. For the thousand-and-first time, I launched into my well-rehearsed performance—the devoted, desperate mate. "Do you still love me?" I asked. And for the thousand-and-first time, Caesar turned away without a word, his silence a colder rejection than any shout. On the surface, I was the picture of heartbreak. Behind closed doors, I went straight to Caesar's uncle to collect a hefty payment for my performance. "Three years of this acting," I said. "Can I leave now?"

One week after my death, my husband, Christopher Ford, was making love on our bed with his one true love. His face showed pure satisfaction. "Finally, I don’t have to deal with that bar hostess anymore." Later, he held my belongings, weeping with regret. "Phoebe, why haven’t you come back?" It seemed he had forgotten that he had already pushed me to my death that night. I was forced to donate my bone marrow to his one true love, and I died, along with our unborn child.

My husband, a surgeon, committed a fatal error during surgery. In despair at the loss of his patient's life, he chose the ultimate escape via sleeping pills on the very same night. By the time I reached his side, his ice-cold body was already being carted into the morgue. His death set the beginning of my tragedy. The patient's family, consumed by grief and rage, turned their wrath on me. Their cruel vengeance eventually took my life. As my spirit left me, I came to witness a shocking revelation. My supposedly dead husband was, in truth, alive and well! While I suffered, he enjoyed a life of luxury with his mistress and his new family. He had it all—sleek fancy cars, a stately mansion, and a mountain of wealth. The discovery burned me with rage. So furious I was, I couldn't rest in peace. When I opened my eyes again, I awoke not in the afterlife, but on the day my husband faked his death. I had returned…

After Caesar Shepherd went overseas with his lover, Florence Lane, about a month passed with no news about Ivy Rivers. Only then did Caesar realize something was wrong. When he had time, he gave his secretary, Morgan, a call. "How's the wound on Ivy's leg? Is she still angry at me for taking her skin for Florence's skin graft?" The opposite side of the line was quiet for a long time. Then, Morgan said softly, "Ms. Rivers was discharged from the hospital and left the residence a month ago." Caesar finally remembered Ivy's eyes full of despair and determination on the day he protected Florence in his arms when the hotel collapsed. That wasn't sorrow. No. That was goodbye.

On the third day after my death, my body was sent to the police station in different packages. Jonathan Walsh, my husband, and Frank Stone, my junior at work, saw my corpse and frowned. “If only Elena were here, she would have been able to find some clues.” Frank sighed as he stared at my horribly mangled remains. “Don’t mention her. She’s not even worthy of being a forensic scientist!” I stared at my husband with a conflicted look. He analyzed each part of my body and deduced the manner of my death with familiar ease. “The murderer is a monster…” Frank’s face turned pale, and he sighed again. Jonathan calmly used all that I had taught him and perfectly pieced out the entire process of my death based on the clues from my dismembered body. I could not help but feel proud. Unfortunately, he was still a little off the mark. He did not manage to figure out that this body belonged to me, his wife.

My husband's first love jumped to her death due to depression and landed right on me as I was passing by. I was rendered unconscious on the spot and subsequently rushed to the ICU. However, my orthopedic surgeon husband stayed by his first love's side to comfort her over her minor scratches. He even refused to sign my Critical Care Notification. "Whoever joined her charade can get lost along with her! Come to me when she's really dead!" he said. It wasn't until he received a death certificate that he realized in horror—the deceased's information was identical to mine.

Three years after my death, Samuel Terrason came to visit my grave. When he saw the lilies blooming around it, his expression darkened. "What is this?" "If the stories are true, then these lilies mean she has found her partner in the afterlife." "Pull them out," Samuel said coldly. "Pull what out, sir?" "The lilies! All of them!" Then, Samuel bought the entire graveyard and ordered that every male be relocated. Yes, males. Even the dogs. "You're not seeing anyone else, even in death, Rachel!" he swore. "And if you try, I'll come find you when I'm dead, too! Not even death can separate us. Just wait for me!"

After the cruise ship strikes a hidden reef, panicked passengers shove me and Kristen Langford into the sea. My boyfriend, Elijah Jensen, is the ship's captain, so he plunges into the water. But instead of saving me, he grabs Kristen and boards the last lifeboat. I thrash and cry for help, but he slaps my hand away. "You can swim. Stop pretending for attention!" Elijah snaps. "Kristen's body temperature is dropping. I have to get her to a hospital!" The waters around me are pitch-black, and his words feel like a death sentence. When the tracking bracelet I always wear is discovered inside a shark, Elijah dives alone into shark-infested waters, searching for three days and nights. In the end, the brilliant captain who once ruled the oceans can never sail again.

My parents died when I was ten years old, but a big shot in Jade City adopted me. It was rumored that Sean Graham was a cruel and violent man, but he doted on me for nearly ten years. He booked the advertising screens in the city to celebrate my birthday and promised to marry me when I got drunk and pestered him about it. I called him Uncle Sean at his request. Fear gripped me when I woke up in his bed every morning, but I kept it a secret. Yet one time, we accidentally slept with each other. I got pregnant with his child and wanted to keep it, but I knew I would not live for much longer. One day, I heard his conversation with a servant. “Clean up Zella’s room for Yulia.” “But Mr. Graham, Miss Cooper has been staying there for ten years. Didn’t you design it for her?” “No, I only let her stay there because Yulia had gone abroad.” I touched my belly as disappointment gripped me. It turned out that the man who had promised to provide me with a home as long as he lived wanted to drive me away.