The Undeniable Dead

The Undeniable Dead

Fei Teng

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For three years, I'd been a silent, unseen presence, a ghost tethered to the man who ruined my life: Rick Thompson. Today, his opulent Manhattan penthouse boomed with a lavish birthday party for his new fiancée, a celebration that should have been my own. Amidst the champagne and laughter, Rick casually remembered me, his ex, telling his assistant to send me leftover food at the "wellness clinic" he'd sent me to. Moments later, the assistant returned, pale-faced, revealing the horrifying truth: I had died almost three years ago, and the critical funds Rick set aside for my care had never arrived. Rick dismissed it as a crude trick, but his call to my family confirmed my heartbroken mother's worst fears. Enraged, he stormed into our humble West Virginia home, confronting my crippled brother and grieving mother, smashing my memorial photo. His new fiancée, Tiffany, fueled his delusion, suggesting I was alive and hiding. He then ordered his men to dig up my grave in the old church cemetery. I, a helpless ghost, watched in silent horror as my desecrated coffin revealed my skeletal remains-undeniable proof of my death. The brutal sight, coupled with the crushing realization of his colossal mistake, triggered a massive stroke in my already fragile mother, claiming her life right there at my graveside. Rick, finally comprehending the monstrous scope of his folly, collapsed in agony, consumed by guilt. With newfound, chilling resolve, Rick turned his immense resources, not to create, but to destroy, vowing to meticulously unravel every lie that led to my family's ruin and embark on a relentless path of vengeance against the true architect of our tragedy.

Introduction

For three years, I'd been a silent, unseen presence, a ghost tethered to the man who ruined my life: Rick Thompson.

Today, his opulent Manhattan penthouse boomed with a lavish birthday party for his new fiancée, a celebration that should have been my own.

Amidst the champagne and laughter, Rick casually remembered me, his ex, telling his assistant to send me leftover food at the "wellness clinic" he'd sent me to. Moments later, the assistant returned, pale-faced, revealing the horrifying truth: I had died almost three years ago, and the critical funds Rick set aside for my care had never arrived.

Rick dismissed it as a crude trick, but his call to my family confirmed my heartbroken mother's worst fears.

Enraged, he stormed into our humble West Virginia home, confronting my crippled brother and grieving mother, smashing my memorial photo.

His new fiancée, Tiffany, fueled his delusion, suggesting I was alive and hiding. He then ordered his men to dig up my grave in the old church cemetery.

I, a helpless ghost, watched in silent horror as my desecrated coffin revealed my skeletal remains-undeniable proof of my death.

The brutal sight, coupled with the crushing realization of his colossal mistake, triggered a massive stroke in my already fragile mother, claiming her life right there at my graveside.

Rick, finally comprehending the monstrous scope of his folly, collapsed in agony, consumed by guilt.

With newfound, chilling resolve, Rick turned his immense resources, not to create, but to destroy, vowing to meticulously unravel every lie that led to my family's ruin and embark on a relentless path of vengeance against the true architect of our tragedy.

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Five Years, A Million Lies

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The phone buzzed, a jarring sound, and it was Liam. His voice, once a comfort, was now a broken mess, choked out words about losing everything in a high-stakes poker game-including his grandma' s house. I abandoned my college dreams, moved to the coast, and spent five grueling years as a nightclub hostess, saving every dollar to pay off his million-dollar debt. But then, the final payment made, I overheard a conversation. It wasn' t a mistake. It was a five-year-long, cruel game orchestrated by Liam and my high school rival, Ashley Thompson, to punish me for being a scholarship student who always came first. Heartbreakingly, a familiar voice, his, dripped with malice: "It was Ashley's idea. She wanted to punish her. And I owed Ashley a favor." My world tilted. The love, the sacrifice, all a twisted lie. When I confronted him, his voice, stripped of pretense, confirmed my worst fears, "You gave them. Don't pin your bad choices on me. You liked being the hero, didn't you?" Later, Ashley came to my door, demanding a five-million-dollar necklace as "repayment" for my academic success, threatening my ailing mother. Then, a "staged" car accident left me bruised, and Liam, ever the actor, rushed me to the ER, only to abandon me for Ashley' s dinner reservation. My mother, manipulated by Ashley' s lies, died tragically trying to escape the nursing home. Liam, once again, dismissed my grief as an inconvenience. I couldn't fathom the depths of their depravity. Why me? Why such calculated cruelty? What kind of monster would use love as a weapon and sacrifice an innocent life for a twisted game? With nothing left but a box of ashes and a broken heart, I booked a one-way ticket to the UK, determined to reclaim my life, to find out who Chloe Davis truly was beyond their game.

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The ambulance siren faded, but the chaos at the Sterling mansion was just beginning. My adoptive sister, Charlotte, had slit her wrist, her note simply stating my name: "Ava." Suddenly, I was standing in the opulent living room, the one where they' d celebrated my adoption five years ago, now a courtroom where I was on trial. My adoptive mother, Eleanor, shrieked, her perfectly manicured hand trembling as she pointed at me. "She loved you. She looked up to you. And you did this to her." Richard Sterling, my adoptive father and a man whose tech empire I was secretly working to expose, stepped forward, his face a thundercloud of rage. "Don' t lie to me, Ava. Charlotte' s note was clear. You' ve been tormenting her." Even Ethan, my usually kind adoptive brother, turned away. "I can' t believe I ever trusted you." The betrayal from him cut deeper than the accusations. Eleanor sobbed, "She' s a fragile girl. You, you' re strong. You preyed on her weakness." Then, Richard' s hand connected with my cheek, the slap echoing in the cavernous room. "You will stay in your room," he commanded, his voice a low growl. "You will not leave. You will not speak to anyone." Locked in my room, Agent Hayes' s immediate message flashed in my mind: Extraction denied. Maintain cover. Sterling is planning something big. We need you inside. My mission, meant to expose Richard, had not only imploded, but had trapped me deeper in their twisted web. I was meant to stay. I was meant to endure. But as Richard' s chilling voice carried through the door later that night, confirming his plan to freeze my accounts and leave me with nothing, I knew one thing: I had to get out.

From Wedding Bells to Shattered Dreams

From Wedding Bells to Shattered Dreams

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Five years. That' s how long I' d spent in Paris, dreaming of New York, of the life Liam and I would build. I was finally back, holding the custom cufflinks for our wedding, ready to surprise him at a fancy hotel where he' d told me to meet him for dinner. But I got the surprise instead. I saw him, laughing, his arm around Chloe, his assistant-the same girl who' d made my high school a living hell. They disappeared into the hotel, and moments later, his call came through, breezy and apologetic. "Something huge has come up. I' m deep in negotiations with a crucial client, I can' t get away. We have to postpone dinner." A crucial client. In a luxury hotel room. Then, Chloe' s text: a barrage of photos-Liam kissing her, her in Liam' s shirt, a selfie of them entering the hotel, her lips on his cheek. Underneath: "Hey old friend, long time no see. I' ve got my eyes on your fiancé, no need to give him up, I' ll just take him." The initial shock gave way to a cold, clear calm. The love, the devotion-it felt like a stupid joke. When Liam finally came home, I was packing. He tossed a cheap Eiffel Tower keychain on the table, a souvenir from his "client meeting." Then I heard his friends, Mark and Josh, laughing in the hallway, letting themselves in. "Is he still in there with Chloe?" Mark whispered loudly. "Of course," Josh snickered. "He' s got Ava flying back thinking they' re getting married, while he' s screwing his assistant. He' s a legend." "He says Ava' s a bore. And she doesn' t have that ugly scar on her back." The scar. The one Chloe gave me, pushing me down stairs. The one he' d comforted me about. And then, later, Liam came in with Chloe, her hand snaked around his arm. "Chloe needed a place to stay for a few days. Her apartment has a pest problem," he said, pouring her wine, in our home. Then I saw the prenatal vitamins behind the coffee maker. She wasn' t visiting. She was nesting. Chloe emerged from the bedroom, wrapped in Liam' s bathrobe, fake tears in her eyes. "I' m so sorry. I' ll just go sleep on the street." Liam rushed to her, wrapping his arms around her. "Look what you did! You made her cry! Apologize to her right now, or get out." I stared at him, at the stranger he had become. "Fine," I whispered. I grabbed my bag and walked out into the pouring rain. He pulled up beside me in his car. "Get in, Ava. Stop making a scene." I kept walking. He accelerated, then slammed the brakes, splashing dirty water all over me. "This is what you wanted, right? To be a martyr? Fine. Have fun." He sped off, leaving me bruised, wet, and heartbroken. But then my phone buzzed. It was my grandfather' s assistant. "Miss Miller, your engagement to Mr. Ethan Hayes has been formally agreed upon by both families." Liam' s older brother. The direct opposite of him. One engagement ended in a threat, and another began with a phone call. I knew then that this wasn't the end. It was a new beginning.

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