Follow
Chapters
Share
Buried Alive With My Fake Husband Novel Cover

Buried Alive With My Fake Husband

I woke up in total darkness, the air smelling of stale chemicals and dying flowers. When I tried to sit up, my forehead slammed into solid wood just three inches from my face. I was trapped in a coffin, buried alive next to the cold, stiff body of my fake husband, Cedric. My stepmother, Hermina, had poisoned our champagne at the gala to seize my trust fund, and now she was hosting a lavish memorial service for us right outside the lid. I found a faint, erratic pulse in Cedric's neck, but I couldn't just scream for help. If Hermina realized the dose wasn't lethal, she'd finish the job with a lethal injection under the guise of medical assistance. To survive, I bit my tongue until I tasted blood and tore my hair into a tangled mess. When I finally kicked the lid open and spilled onto the marble floor, I didn't act like a rescued heiress; I crawled like a broken doll, shrieking about poisoned bubbles and "the bad man" while Manhattan's elite watched in absolute horror. The betrayal was suffocating. My own family watched as Hermina tried to sedate me back into silence, playing the role of a grieving saint while her eyes remained cold as ice. Even more shocking was Cedric, who rose from the casket like a predator, commanding the room with a terrifying authority that proved our entire marriage had been a lie. I couldn't understand how many secrets were buried in that house, or why my "boring" husband was suddenly acting like a man who owned the city. After kneeing Cedric in the stomach to break his iron grip, I bolted out into the torrential rain. I didn't care that I was barefoot or that the world thought I was insane. I had the key to my father's secret safe in my hand, and I was going to make sure Hermina paid for every second of darkness she forced me to endure.
Chapters
Share

Chapter 5

The sprinklers sputtered and died. The fire alarm cut off, leaving a ringing silence in its wake.

All they could hear was the drip, drip, drip of water falling from the chandeliers.

"He..." Beatrice's voice trembled. "He is warm."

Hermina struggled to her feet, cradling her dangling wrist. "It's the chemicals!" she hissed through gritted teeth. "Heat reaction! Don't touch him!"

Dr. Sterling, the family physician who had signed the death certificates, pushed through the crowd. He looked terrified.

"Dame Beatrice, please," he said, reaching for her. "This is disturbing the remains."

Delphine jumped up. She placed herself between the doctor and the old woman.

She tilted her head. She smiled a goofy, lopsided smile.

"Doctor bad man," she said. "Gave Cedric sleepy juice."

Sterling paled. "She's delusional."

He tried to shove past Delphine.

She grabbed the stethoscope hanging around his neck. She yanked it hard, pulling his head down, then ripped it from his ears.

She shoved the earpieces into Beatrice's hands.

"Listen to the butterflies!" she giggled. "Listen to the butterflies in his chest!"

Beatrice looked at Delphine, confusion warring with hope. She put the stethoscope in her ears.

"Let her check!" someone shouted from the back.

Sterling froze. He couldn't stop her without looking guilty.

Beatrice leaned over the coffin. She pressed the cold metal disc to Cedric's chest, right over his heart.

They waited.

One second. Five seconds. Ten.

Beatrice's shoulders slumped. The light went out of her eyes. She pulled the stethoscope away.

"Nothing," she whispered. "It's silent."

Delphine's stomach dropped.

No. She felt it. She felt the pulse. It was faint, but it was there.

"I told you," Hermina spat. "He is gone. Delphine is mad."

"We must close the casket," Sterling said, wiping sweat from his forehead. "The body is degrading."

Two guards moved toward Delphine with a straitjacket.

She backed up until her legs hit the wood of the coffin. She reached behind her. Her hand found Cedric's hand.

She squeezed. She dug her nails into the soft web of skin between his thumb and index finger. Hard. Cruel.

Wake up, you bastard.

The guards reached for Delphine.

Then she felt it.

A twitch. A distinct, sharp jerk of his thumb against her palm.

It was electric.

Delphine looked up. Her eyes locked with Hermina's. She dropped the smile.

"He pinched me!" she shouted. "The prince is awake!"

The guards grabbed Delphine's arms. They started to drag her away.

"No! He's alive! Check him again!"

They didn't listen. They dragged her across the wet floor.

You may also like

The scoundrel caused my miscarriage, and I made him pay with his life Novel Cover
7.9
In a dilapidated warehouse, my husband brutally cut open my abdomen to extract the fetus. All for the sake of obtaining bone marrow from our child to save the life of the son he had with his mistress. "Honey, I'm begging you, don't hurt the baby," I pleaded with him. "Arina, don't be afraid. It won't hurt. Just a little while, and you'll be free,". Just when I was on the verge of giving up all hope, the sound of approaching help reached my ears. I felt a glimmer of joy, thinking I was finally going to escape this nightmarish hell. But then, in an instant, there was a sharp "Puff!" It was the sound of a dagger slicing through my belly. There was a deep gash in my abdomen, and blood was gushing out profusely. "Ah! My baby!" "How could you be so cruel?" I stared in disbelief at my best friend standing before me. "Arina, you have to die today..."
Bound By His Obsession, Trapped Forever Novel Cover
9.3
My mate, Theron, was a powerful Alpha, and I, a scentless Omega, was his greatest prize. But beneath his adoring facade was a terrifying, possessive monster, revealed when he dragged me home and forced me into our bed after I was late to his challenge match. His golden eyes burned with chilling control, and he whispered a threat that turned my blood to ice. I'd been stuck on a forest road, my truck dead, racing to reach his challenge match. His mate bond panic had already frayed my nerves, but nothing prepared me for his rage. He'd publicly broken his opponent's shoulder, then stalked directly to me, ignoring the crowd. He marked my lateness with chilling precision, before dragging me away to our rooms for "punishment." Later, as he tried to force a ceremonial marking pendant on me, he promised, "If you will not accept my mark willingly, then I will wait for your Heat. I will fuck you until your body begs for it, and my wolf will hold you down while I bite." My gaze fell on his open journal, filled with frantic, scrawled words: "SHE IS MINE. PUNISH. CLAIM. MARK HER. BREED HER. MAKE HER UNDERSTAND SHE IS MINE. MINE. MINE." The man I loved, my only protection, was a captor in disguise, his devotion a gilded cage. Every gentle touch, every soft word, now felt like a brand of ownership, a tightening leash. The terrifying truth of his pathological obsession finally hit me. A fragile plan formed in the space between heartbeats: I would de-escalate, redefine, and survive, no matter the cost, before his possessive madness consumed me entirely.
Call Me By Your Name  Novel Cover
8.1
When Amara Nwosu, a broken Nigerian photographer, lands in the vibrant heart of Lumeria, all she wants is silence- a place to heal, a city to disappear in, and a project to keep her hands busy while her heart stays numb. But Lumeria has its own plans. The city hums with color and chaos, music and memory, and somewhere between the rain-soaked markets and golden riverbanks, she crosses paths with Kairo Mbeki - an architect with a past as heavy as hers and eyes that see far too much. Their worlds collide under the weight of coincidence, and something unspoken sparks between them: a pull neither of them wants to name, a connection that feels both familiar and forbidden. As Amara's camera begins to capture the soul of Lumeria, Kairo becomes the part of it she cannot frame - the one thing she can't walk away from. But love in Lumeria isn't simple. Between family expectations, personal scars, and the ghosts of everything they've lost, both must decide whether healing means holding on... or finally letting go. In a story of second chances, cultural beauty, and quiet resilience, Call Me by Your Name reminds us that sometimes, love doesn't ask for grand gestures - it just asks to be seen.
HOT ROMANCE  Novel Cover
8.5
I didn't realize I'd been disappearing until the day I caught my own reflection and felt a stranger looking back. Thirty-eight years old, living safely, quietly, forgettably-like a ghost haunting my own routine. But on that warm June afternoon, something in me finally snapped awake. A pulse. A spark. A refusal. So I reached for the keys to the old Winnebago Kevin once hoped would save me, gathered my stunned eighteen-year-olds, and stepped toward a summer that felt impossible-raw, wild, alive. It was the day I stopped surviving my life and started claiming it.
Marked By The Monster: The Lycan King's Bride Novel Cover
7.0
I stood at the altar, ready to bind my soul to Holden, the man I had loved since we were pups. But the moment his stepsister, Jaidyn, let out a shrill scream, he ripped his hand away from mine. He abandoned me in front of the entire pack, cradling her in his arms and claiming his wolf had chosen her over me. The humiliation didn't end there. When I tried to leave, Holden kidnapped me. He locked a silver collar around my neck, searing my skin and cutting off my connection to the world. He dragged me to a filthy dungeon, ignoring my screams, and began draining my blood to "save" Jaidyn. As my life force faded into the IV bag, I watched Jaidyn smirk behind his back, her "wounds" healing instantly. Holden called me a monster for hurting her, blind to the truth. To him, I was just a weak, latent wolf—a spare blood bag for his mistress. But they made a fatal mistake. They didn't know that the "weakness" inside me was actually a dormant power waiting to explode. And they certainly didn't know that my rejection of Holden had already summoned a new mate. The terrifying Lycan King, Alphons, was coming. And when he arrives, he will burn their world to the ground.
One Night, His Unseen Legacy Novel Cover
8.4
After ninety-nine failed attempts to win the heart of the brilliant but cold Dr. Julian Burke, I drugged him for one night of passion. It didn't make him love me. I fled to London in shame. Three years later, a photo surfaced. It was Julian, smiling tenderly at a younger woman-a dead ringer for his deceased first love. I flew back to New York to end our sham engagement, but he destroyed me first. He publicly accused me of leaking his research, and his testimony sent me to prison. While I was inside, I was brutally attacked and lost a kidney. My father, crushed by the scandal, died of a stroke, and I wasn't there to say goodbye. I was just collateral damage in his twisted atonement for a ghost, a convenient villain to protect her manipulative sister. He let me rot, believing I was a monster. But he didn't know the secret I carried from that one night. After my release, I took our son and vanished. I would build a new life, and he would never know the son he abandoned or the woman he truly broke.