Substitute Marriage: My Lethal Comatose Husband

The Escalade tires crunched over the pristine white gravel of the Thorne estate driveway hours later.

The door opened. Lana stepped out, her worn canvas bag clutched tightly to her chest. She kept her head down, letting her shoulders hunch forward.

A butler in a stiff uniform led her through the massive oak front doors. The light from the crystal chandelier in the foyer hit her eyes, making her squint.

Brenda Thorne sat on a velvet sofa in the center of the living room, a porcelain teacup in her hand.

The moment Brenda saw Lana, her face contorted. She set the teacup down hard, her eyes raking over Lana's cheap clothes and the glaring red birthmark.

Tiffany and Brittany, Lana's half-sisters, walked down the sweeping marble staircase. They pointed at Lana's face, their laughter echoing off the high ceilings.

Lana let her knees tremble slightly. She stared at the floor, playing the terrified victim. Her fingers tightened anxiously on the frayed strap of her canvas bag, her thumb discreetly pressing a small, hard button hidden deep within the seam. The microscopic recording device instantly activated, capturing every word echoing in the foyer.

Declan Thorne walked out of his study. He didn't even look at Lana's face. He stopped a few feet away, his hands in his pockets.

"You will take Tiffany's place," Declan said, his voice devoid of any warmth. "You will marry the heir of the Montgomery family."

Lana looked up, blinking rapidly. "Why... why me?"

Tiffany sneered, crossing her arms. "Because Sterling Montgomery is a vegetable. He's going to die any day now, and I'm not spending my youth playing nurse to a corpse."

Brenda smoothed her skirt. "The Montgomery trust fund has a stipulation. The funds remain locked until he marries. You are going to unlock that money for us."

Declan took a step closer, his tone turning lethal. "You have no right to refuse. I gave you life. This is how you pay me back."

Lana's stomach turned, but she forced tears into her eyes. "Please, don't do this to me," she begged, her voice cracking.

Declan waved his hand dismissively at the butler. "Take her to the guest room. Lock the door. I don't want her trying to run."

The butler grabbed Lana by the arm, dragging her up the stairs and down a long, dimly lit hallway to the furthest room.

He shoved her inside. The heavy door slammed shut. The deadbolt clicked loudly into place.

Lana stood in the center of the room. She waited ten seconds.

The tears vanished. Her spine snapped straight. The pathetic, fearful girl was gone, replaced by a predator assessing its cage.

She walked over to her canvas bag and unzipped a hidden compartment. She pulled out a device that looked exactly like a cheap tube of lipstick.

She twisted the base. A faint red laser emitted from the tip. She swept the room, scanning the walls, the ceiling, and the furniture for bugs and hidden cameras.

The device vibrated against her palm when she pointed it at the base of the bedside lamp.

Lana walked over. She didn't dismantle the listening device. Instead, she peeled a microscopic audio-jamming sticker from her fingernail and pressed it directly over the microphone.

She sat on the edge of the mattress. She unbuckled her cheap plastic watch, pulling a hair-thin data cable from beneath the dial. She plugged it into the charging port of her phone.

The screen instantly went black, then filled with lines of complex, encrypted code.

She typed a sequence of commands, opening a secure channel.

"Phoenix," Elon Gutierrez's voice came through the speaker, crisp and professional.

"I need everything you have on Sterling Montgomery's trust fund," Lana ordered, her voice hard. "And his medical records. Now."

"Understood," Elon replied.

Lana unplugged the cable. She walked to the window, looking down at the security guards patrolling the manicured lawns.

A cold smile touched the corners of her mouth. "Let the games begin, Declan."