Over My Dead Body Book นิยาย & เรื่องราว

My fiancé sent me overseas and immediately burned my wallet, threw away my phone, and tore up my visa. He did it all to make sure I couldn't return home and ruin his wedding to his first love. His friends tried to warn him. "Don't go too far. What if your fiancée really gets angry?" But my fiancé didn't care at all. "She's gotten too spoiled because I've always treated her too well. I'm just teaching her to be more understanding. Besides, Yvonne and I aren't really getting married. I'm only doing this so her dying grandmother can pass away without regrets. Nothing will happen between us. Once the wedding is over, I'll make it up to Winnie." The moment his wedding ended, he rushed to find me

Five years after my younger brother Luca and my fiancée Elena were killed in an ambush, I arranged my own burial at sea. I was pressing the engraved nameplate onto my custom urn when my father, Don Salvatore Leo, walked into the room with a cigar between his lips. "Antonio, you don't need to go to the docks to mourn them this year. They're not dead." My fingers went white around the nameplate. Then the hidden door in the safe room opened from the inside. Luca walked out with Elena in his arms, casually spinning the emerald ring I had once given her around his finger. "I won the bet," he said, lazy about it. "I told you we could live right next door to him for five years and he'd never

Marco instructs Vinny as they make their way to the limousine, leaving behind a scene of pain and menace in the secluded barn. ELENA Home, the place where I seek solace and a sanctuary from my life’s chaos. The comforting routine is disrupted when a text notification chimes on my phone. At this late hour. “definitely Sarah sending some random meme or another”. I mumble. After finishing up with my bed, I check the message, only to be met with a gasp escaping my lips. It's not Sarah. An unknown contact, yet the content is unmistakable – a picture of a battered Daren accompanied by a chilling message:

On the day of my pyre, my body had been reassembled. The mortician was skilled. I looked… almost whole. For a moment, I studied the still figure laid out before the sacred flames. I had to admit— Death became me. I looked better than I had in years. No fear. No pain. No exhaustion carved into my bones. Just stillness. Peace. My parents came to see me off. Caden could not. Pack justice for killing Seraphina had been swift—and merciless.

LYNEXIA Shivers of fear still ripple through me hours after I found the dead bodies. Their gaping throats, their dead empty eyes, and their pale blue skin replay in my brain like a neverending loop. Not only I am in a state of disorientation and utter disarray, but Seraphina won't leave me alone. She makes me narrate how it happened and how I came across the dead bodies as if she is trying to drive me crazy which is working. The more I narrate the incident, the more the dead bodies gnaw at me.

But now, seeing the disdain in their eyes as they talked about me, I felt a bit relieved to have died in this way. They had always hoped for my miserable end, and once they discovered how tragic my death was, they would surely be satisfied. After hanging up, my father’s gaze refocused on my body. His eyes slowly began to redden. It was indeed a sight too tragic to bear, and his voice trembled. "There are stab wounds on the deceased—eight in total—but they all missed the vital organs." "Preliminary assessment suggests the cause of death was excessive bleeding." "The killer is truly perverse. He made the girl bleed out slowly. How painful it must have been."

The morgue was cold, carrying a foul, sterile smell. Expressionless staff pushed me into a metal drawer. With a soft "click," the door closed. The system's voice echoed in my mind. [Death confirmed. Final storyline completed.] [Countdown to soul departure: 71 hours 59 minutes.] [Please await the opening of the passage.] I drifted in the cold, hollow air and let out a breath. Finally, things were coming to an end.

Whatever unease she had earlier is already fading, replaced by something much more like her. “So,” she starts, nudging my arm lightly like she does when she wants my attention, “I started this new book last night.” I glance at her, catching the small excitement in her expression, then go back to stretching my arm across my chest. “It’s about zombies,” she continues, her voice picking up. “Like actual dead people walking around and eating others. It’s kind of disgusting, but also really good.” “And there is this guy,” she goes on, lowering her voice just a little like she is letting me in on something important. “He is technically dead, but not fully gone. Like he still thinks and talks and…

Only when my arm went completely numb did I pause. I looked down at what I had done. His face—what was left of it—was caved in. Broken beyond recognition. Just red and pulp and bone. I fucking did it. The laugh bubbled out before I could stop it—half-sob, half-hysterical joy. "It's... over! It's finally fucking over!" [Mission Accomplished! You will receive authority in the underworld.] What a joke. What the hell was I supposed to do with that now? Rule the streets as a walking corpse? As a fucking pile of toast?

I was Detective Gauntler. The dead man lay on his back, not three feet beyond the radius of the door, in a pool of blood that was almost dried and gave the room a sickly-sweet butcher shop odor. But the only problem with the dead body was it was charred. It was not charred as if burnt from outside, I could see and understand that the body had been charred from inside as if by some kind of implosion. It looked really strange…the body was not completely burnt but it looked like the flesh had been burnt and a layer of epidermis had been put on it. What kind of animal could kill someone in this fucked up way? My thoughts were broken by another voice. It was the gruff voice of Mac.