My Faked Death, His Endless Torment

ampbe

owed them, leaving me stranded in the deserted ballroom, the echoes of their disdai

had said. As if a piece of paper could sever the twisted roots that bound us. But it was a

ll and Hayes empires, appeared moments later, summoned by some unseen force. He looked a

stronger than I felt. "Make it happe

ry well. I will initiate the proceedings.

ing slightly, leaving a faint blood smudge on the pristine parchment. The ink felt cold beneath my finge

ts glittered indifferently, a million tiny stars mocking my pain. King and Isabel were probably in a taxi by now, heading to some exclusive

ver was already gone, dismissed, no doubt, by King's orders. I hailed a cab. "The old Hayes estate," I instr

hings. What few things w

a mausoleum. I let myself in with a key card that probably wouldn't work a

amiliar minimalist decor had been replaced by vibrant colors, plush fabrics, and a distinct feminine scent that wasn't mine. Isabel's belongings were everywhere. Her silk scarves

or distant relatives or forgotten staff. My antique jewelry box, a cherished gift from my grandmother, was shoved haphazard

e. Even my space had been taken.

velvet-covered box. Inside, nestled on a silken cushion, was a delicate silver locket. It was a gift from

y stirred-a younger, happier King, his eyes full of affection, placin

faded and worn. The irony was a bitter pill.

ravel bag. This wasn't a home anymore. It was j

ne on the bedside table rang, startling

ow Creek Memorial. We're calling about your... arrangements. We have a beautiful

resting place. A cold shiver ran down my spine, despite the fever. "H

ll, the package we discussed is

ung up before they could protest. I wouldn't spend my last penny on a beautiful plot f

od there, his shadow long and menacing in

er of distaste crossed his face. "What is this stench?" he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. He sniffed the air,

s that on the phone?" His voice was cold, accusatory. "Were you tryi

of me. "It was the funeral home," I said, my voi

nywhere." He strode towards me, his jaw clenched. "This contract, Ela, it's not simply an engagement. It's a merger. It

m dying, King. And I won't spend my last days tied to a m

were a means to an end, Ela. A necessary alliance. Nothing more." He took another step, closing the distance between us. "But

aimed my body, my name, my future. Now, he wanted to claim my past, my present, my

ly a whisper, ragged with the pain I had suppre