Fake Instagram Template

"Ms. Jones, the service to fake your death that you requested has been arranged. Here's the agreement. Please sign here." Isabella Jones glanced at the contract that the person placed before her. Client: Isabella Jones Cause of death: Falling from a mountain, eaten by wild animals. Unable to retrieve the remains of the body Time of death: One week from now One week from now would mark the fifth anniversary of her marriage to Samuel Grant. It was also the day she had planned to fake her death and leave him. Since that was the date it all began, it might as well be when it ended.

I jump off the seventh floor on my wedding day. Why? Because everyone has abandoned me to pick up a fake heiress from the airport, my fiancé included. I expect to see them riddled with heartbreak and regret after my death. However, my father merely shakes his head stoically and looks at my body while saying I was too willful. My mother bites her lip and sighs in relief. My fiancé, Magnus Gilmore, shields the fake heiress. He's afraid she'll see the horrible state of my body. The fake heiress is scared to tears at this, and everyone crowds around her to console her. No one cares whether I'm still breathing while lying in a pool of blood. I'm stunned when I see this, but I soon laugh self-deprecatingly. When I open my eyes again, I've been brought back seven years in the past. It's the day I've just stepped foot at home.

When my mother finally found the real heiress, she was on her knees selling shoes on the street. And to my surprise, I recognized her—she was none other than my fiancé's first love. Determined to oust me, the fake heiress, she played her part well, putting on a daily show to make me look bad. I was content to play along, enjoying our little game, until my fiancé’s offhand remark, “Was that really necessary?" shattered my composure. Fine, I thought, “You can keep this husband and family. I’ve got better things to do—like finding my real parents.”

The night my parents were kidnapped, my brother—who happened to be a police officer—chose to go bungee jumping with the fake heiress. I didn't stop him. Instead, I called the police and began preparing the ransom. In my previous life, my brother had forgone the outing to rescue our parents. As a result, the rope snapped during her jump, sending her plummeting into the abyss. Her body was never recovered. He never spoke a word about it afterward. On my birthday, he drugged me and dragged me to that very cliff. "You orchestrated the kidnapping! You'd go this far for their attention? You're nothing but a monster! Lillian is dead. You don't deserve to live either!" When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the night my parents were kidnapped. This time, my brother didn't rush to their rescue. Instead, he ran to the fake heiress. But in the end, he regretted it so much that he nearly lost his mind.

The fake daughter married my boyfriend. My mouth was taped and I was being chopped into pieces by her admirer. The entire family took turns to call me. My mother said, "How ungrateful you are. I should not have brought you home back then." Father added, "Don't bother coming back if you do not attend Samantha's wedding." Brother said, "Let me tell you, you shall root in hell if you choose not to attend the wedding." At that moment, I didn't even have the energy to shout for help due to excessive blood loss. Everyone lost their patience, "Speak up! Are you dead or what?" I could only see the calls being disconnected. One thing they did not know, I was really dead.

Ivory Stone has tried and failed to seduce her stoic steward 999 times. She thinks that maybe Wilson Quill doesn't have a heart. Maybe he won't ever fall in love with anyone. But one day, she catches him pleasuring himself with a bracelet belonging to the fake heiress who stole her life.

A fake heiress exposes her real identity so that I can be found—all because she wants me to marry the crippled man who's supposed to be her husband. She puts on an act before the whole family, wanting to drive a wedge between us. She has no idea we can all hear her thoughts. When she slashes her palm and frames me for it, she's cursing in her heart. "Hit her, you worthless man!" When she falls down the stairs and blames me for it, she's thinking, "Teach her a lesson, you silly old woman!" When she buries herself in my brother's arms and acts aggrieved, she's actually thinking, "He's such a loyal dog." My father, mother, and brother are stunned by what they hear. Then, they're infuriated. I merely laugh and turn away, acting like I don't see anything. I just want to complete this special mission as soon as possible.

I came home a day early from my business trip and hid in the closet to surprise Eric Carter. At seven, he told the housekeeper to cook several dishes. At nine, he told me hoarsely that he had taken a bath and changed the bedsheets in my room. He was sure that I would love it. I did not believe him because I had heard him moaning in bed with Willow Summers for three hours from the closet. Willow Summers was his childhood sweetheart and my sister. I clicked on a webpage from my cell without hesitation. "Miss Summers, your appointment for creating a fake death has been confirmed. Time of Death: One week later Location of Death: The wedding hall on the top floor of the Century Building Cause of Death: Suicide from jumping off a building!"

I'm dying at seven months pregnant, and the one behind it is my husband. Hearing that a premature baby's blood can save my sister, he conspires with a shady clinic to take the baby out through surgery. After draining the baby's blood, he walks away—leaving my fragile preemie to die. Later, my parents say, "You owe Yvie. It's time to repay her." My husband says, "We can always have another child. A baby's life can't possibly be more important than Yvie's, can it? The overwhelming rage and grief cause me to bleed to death. My soul floats above them as I watch them prepare my sister's surgery. They don't even bother to change me into clean clothes. No one mourns me. No one loses their mind over my death. Without a care, they wheel me into the morgue and celebrate Yvonne's recovery. When I open my eyes again, I've gone back three months earlier—to the day my whole family forced me to divorce.

I was the real heiress in a case of a mistaken identity. Three months after my return, the imposter heiress disappeared.   My brother, Caleb Carter, accused me of jealousy, believing I had driven the fake heiress away. The disappointed look on my parents’ faces revealed their true thoughts.   I was confined in the basement, subjected to daily torture.   Even after my death, my family donated my brain to a research institution.   Later, I watched from heaven as my family broke down upon watching my memories.