Buried Alive With My Fake Husband

Cedric slid off the coffin. He wobbled for a second, then straightened. He rolled his neck. Crack.

He walked toward Dr. Sterling, his steps unsteady but deliberate.

He didn't ask for a weapon. He didn't need one. He reached into his own soaked jacket and pulled out his phone. It was dripping, but the screen flickered to life.

A collective gasp went through the room. Beatrice tried to stand. "Cedric! What are you doing?"

Cedric ignored her. He turned to the crowd.

"Everyone who is not family or staff," he said, his voice gaining strength. "Leave via the side exit. Now."

The butler scrambled to unlock the side door. The guests didn't need to be told twice. They stampeded out into the rain.

"My legal team will be in touch regarding non-disclosure agreements," Cedric called out to their retreating backs. "Cooperation will be... rewarded."

The room emptied. It was just them now. Delphine, Cedric, Beatrice, Hermina, Sterling, and the guards.

Sterling tried to blend in with the catering staff near the exit.

Cedric's fingers moved across the wet screen. He pressed play on a video.

The sound of Sterling's own voice filled the hall. Panicked. Pleading.

"She paid me half a million! The accounts are offshore... I never thought... I swear she said it was just a paralytic!"

Sterling screamed and fell to the ground.

Cedric walked toward him. His wet shoes squelched on the carpet.

Delphine watched him. Her heart was pounding in her throat. This wasn't the man she married. That man was a boring consultant who drove a Honda.

This man moved like a predator. His weapon was information.

"Time of death, Doctor?" Cedric asked, standing over him.

"It was... Hermina said..." Sterling blubbered.

Cedric lowered the phone. He swiped, and a new document appeared on the screen. A medical file.

"This is your daughter's file, isn't it? The experimental treatment for her leukemia. Very expensive. And not covered by your insurance. A shame if the funding were to be... reallocated."

Sterling shrieked. It was a high, thin sound. He curled into a ball, clutching his head.

Beatrice turned away, sobbing.

"Tell me exactly what poison was used," Cedric said, his face completely blank.

"A cyanide derivative!" Sterling screamed. "Mixed with a muscle relaxant! Succinylcholine!"

Cedric nodded. He looked satisfied.

He sent the file to the head of security with a single tap.

"He's all yours," Cedric said. "Call the police. Tell them a doctor has confessed to attempted murder. Malpractice is too slow."

Delphine felt sick. The smell of fear mixed with the formaldehyde.

Cedric turned around. The phone was still in his hand.

He looked at Delphine.

His eyes were cold. Calculating. He wasn't looking at his wife. He was looking at a loose end.