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I Sent My Husband a Coffin for His Seasonal Depression Novel Cover

I Sent My Husband a Coffin for His Seasonal Depression

For years, Elara believed her husband’s excuse for abandoning her every autumn to support a suicidal friend in Europe. However, an art auction in Monaco exposes his elaborate double life: a secret mistress and a five-year-old daughter he promises to bring home to Chicago one day. Refusing to play the victim, Elara quietly retreats to orchestrate a devastating payback. When he calls to announce his return, a custom coffin and their prenuptial agreement are already waiting for him.
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Chapter 2

The next evening, I engineered a "coincidental" encounter at the private casino they frequented.

When Dante saw me, the smile on his face froze, replaced by a look of raw panic.

"Elara? What are you doing here?"

My smile never wavered as I strolled up and looped my arm through his.

"I was in Monaco for some family business and heard you were here as well. I couldn't resist stopping by to surprise you."

Dante laughed, a little unnaturally.

"It's a surprise, alright..."

Just then, a timid voice called out.

"Darling..."

Seraphina walked over, holding two stacks of chips. When she saw me, she froze, her face instantly turning deathly pale.

My gaze shifted to her, a playful smile touching my lips.

"Who are you calling 'darling'?"

Seraphina trembled, shaking her head frantically as she averted her eyes.

"No, Ms. Moretti, you misheard. I... I was calling for Dante."

She was so flustered that her Chicago accent slipped out.

I let out a soft laugh, my eyes fixed on her rosy cheeks.

"You seem to be recovering well, Miss Seraphina. Your complexion is lovely. It seems your 'seasonal depression' is much improved, I take it?"

Seraphina gave an awkward tug at the corner of her mouth.

"The weather has been nice lately... my condition has stabilized a bit."

Just then, the little girl came skipping over, hugging Dante's leg and calling out in a bright, clear voice.

"Daddy!"

That one word—"Daddy"—sent a chill through the air.

Panic flashed across Dante's face. He quickly bent down to the girl.

"Stella, you're saying it wrong. You should call me 'Godfather'!"

The little girl pouted, looking hurt. Before she could say another word, Seraphina darted forward and pressed the glass of whiskey she was holding to her daughter's lips, trying to silence her.

"Quick! Go play over there, don't bother us while we're talking!"

The girl choked and frowned, protesting in discontent.

"Mommy, no! I don't want whiskey! That's for Daddy!"

All the blood drained from Seraphina's face. She fumbled to hand over another glass of juice.

"Go, go, let's go play over there..."

"Stop."

I spoke softly.

The three of them froze. Seraphina's back was trembling slightly.

I slowly walked forward, unclasped the necklace from my neck, and handed it to the little girl.

"A gift for our first meeting. I came unprepared, so please take this."

The girl looked at the necklace curiously and said with childlike bluntness.

"This... looks like a bullet."

"You have a good eye."

I nodded in approval, my tone calm.

"It is. A bullet. Someone once tried to kill Dante, and I took it for him. This was pulled from my arm."

The girl's eyes widened, filled with the kind of worship a child has for a hero.

"Wow, you're so cool! You took a bullet!"

Hearing about the past, Dante frowned, a flicker of emotion stirring within him.

He finally broke the silence, his voice strained with feigned composure.

"Elara, that's our memento. It's important. Don't you think it's inappropriate to give it to a child?"

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