Three Years After I Faked My Own Death Novels & Stories

I screamed shaking my head. "They searched for three days and never found your body but everyone said you were dead. You fucking died." She moved closer and knelt down in front of me, staying just out of reach like she understood that if she touched me right now I might shatter completely. "There was no accident. I faked my death," she said as she gave a small smile. But the words didn't make sense. My brain kept trying to process them and failing, like a computer stuck in an endless loop.

Hearing the disgust and disappointment in Kaiden's voice hurt worse than I thought it would. Pain tightened around my chest, but I forced myself to sound normal. “Can I bring the gifts to the hospital? I'll apologize to her in person.” I had already explained countless times that I had never coated Lia's tableware with silver poison, but neither Soren nor Kaiden believed me. Now that I was leaving them forever, I did not want to waste the little time I had left defending myself. Kaiden seemed taken aback. Even Soren fell silent for a moment.

In order to settle in faster, I enrolled in a local academy and began studying Florentian properly. After I left the country, I felt lighter than I had in years. … Meanwhile, Ashford Group was falling apart. "Mr. Ashford, the company is in trouble!” Adrian's assistant, Marcus Wallace, burst in, begging him to step in and fix the crisis. My fake death was far too suspicious. The countless fans who had followed our love story felt utterly betrayed. None of them believed I would jump into the ocean on my wedding day for no reason. After some digging, the netizens finally found traces of what led to my supposed death.

After a thorough investigation by the production team, the details of my past were quickly uncovered. They also confirmed with the relevant authorities that I had, in fact, already passed away. "Three years ago, Nicolas Soros died on a snowy night—frozen to death because he couldn't afford hospitalization. "It wasn't until the autopsy that the coroner discovered that what looked like a thick down jacket… didn't even contain real padding. And that was already the most expensive piece of clothing his mother had ever bought for him. With discounts, it cost less than five dollars.

At the very next party, he still took her glass. Looking back, I realized how lonely I had been, and how badly I had wanted to be chosen. So every time they crossed a line and called it friendship, I forgave them. They were so bold about it, so casually shameless, that after a while, I even started to wonder if I was the one seeing things wrong. Was I, truly? I shrugged. I pushed the thought away. Moments after I placed the order for the fake-death package, my phone rang.

Three months had passed since my husband vanished while hiking in the fjords. Then I spotted him in a VIP room at a Manhattan strip club, one arm wrapped around my adopted sister's waist, looking like he didn't have a care in the world. "Thank God you came up with this idea. I'd almost forgotten what it felt like to be free of that control freak." His friends raised their glasses and cheered, asking how much longer he planned to play dead. Alex swirled his drink as he considered the question. "Next week. Once the guilt and panic drive her crazy, I'll show up and give her a nice surprise." I stood in the shadows, watching him enjoy his newfound freedom. Then I called a friend who worked at th

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 peop

As I was rummaging through the trash for leftovers, my wife, who had died three years ago, suddenly showed up. She stepped out of the Voyce and looked down at me from above. “Honey, you really did pass my test.” I was holding some moldy stale bread. I stared at her in bewilderment. It turned out that three years ago, at a class reunion, the school heartthrob she had once dated had suggested it. “I wanted to see if your love is real.”

Quinn Sawyer's beauty had caused her more romantic trouble than she could count, ever since she was a little girl. So when she turned eighteen and headed off to college, the girl who had always played by the rules made a surprisingly bold decision. She hired a professional makeup artist to create a custom look that would hide her beauty. Then, leaving behind her privileged identity as the Sawyer family's heiress, she moved to Bellridge alone to attend college. For two years, the disguise worked perfectly. There were no unwanted romantic entanglements, no distractions. She could finally focus on her studies in peace. That all changed on New Year's Eve of her sophomore year. Quinn had gone to

I raised my hand to calm them. “Don’t be afraid,” I said, steadying my voice. “I never died. Aiden wanted me dead. He sent me to a mental facility to have me killed. He thought he’d covered his tracks. But I survived. I faked my own death and escaped. And now I’m here to tell you the truth.” Aiden finally snapped out of his trance. His face twisted into something angry and defensive. “She’s lying!” he shouted. “She faked her death to ruin me! She planned this entire thing!”