Chapter 1

I was the fake heiress of a wealthy family.

I was dead. I fell to my death in our own garden.

My husband, George Green, had long been secretly in love with the real heiress, Nova Lewis. He believed I had stolen everything that rightfully belonged to her, and he was determined to take his revenge on me.

Shortly after we got married, he locked me away in the attic.

I was starving. When I tried to climb out of the window to save myself, I lost my footing and fell.

When he saw my body, he neither called 911 nor summoned the police.

Instead, the very first thing he did was tell his assistant to take high-resolution, unobscured photos of my miserable corpse from every possible angle.

I was dead, but it felt like I was still here.

The rumors were true. One's soul really looked exactly the same as it did right before one died.

When I looked at myself lying there in a plain white nightgown, my hair a mess and my face filthy, I felt a wave of regret.

If only I'd known, I would've picked out a cute outfit and done my makeup nicely.

I stood there next to my body, staring blankly as George's assistant kept snapping photos of my corpse from every possible angle.

He only stopped when George gave a slight nod, showing he was satisfied. "Chloe, the Lewis family loved you so much. They were willing to hurt their daughter to keep you in their family.

"So, what do you think they'd do if they saw these photos?"

Beneath his icy demeanor, I caught a trace of smug satisfaction he couldn't quite conceal.

At first, I had no idea what George was up to, but when his words finally sank in, panic hit me hard. "Don't do this. You can't."

I rushed toward him, desperate to stop him, but I went right through him.

George shot a cold glance at my body on the ground, then turned to his assistant, Leo. "Get someone to clean this up. And as for her. Don't cremate her yet.

"I'm more merciful than they are. I want the Lewis family to see what their precious daughter looked like in her final moments."

With that, he turned and walked away.

I tried to follow him, but whenever I moved more than three steps away from my body, some invisible force would pull me right back.

I wanted to cry, but my soul couldn't shed a single tear. All I could do was stare at him in hopeless despair, murmuring, "No, please, don't."

As George was walking out, he suddenly froze mid-step.

My heart skipped a beat. Did he hear me?

"I almost forgot." I heard him grumble in frustration, then, looking annoyed, he turned around and hurried back to my body.

He actually knelt down on one knee and personally removed the diamond ring from my blood-soaked ring finger.

George had to use a lot of force to yank it off.

I crouched nearby, watching as he finally managed to yank the ring off, leaving a bloody hole circling my finger where it used to be. He froze for a moment.

For a second, a flash of conflicted emotion flickered in George's eyes, but it quickly vanished, replaced by his usual coldness.

That diamond ring was the thing I cherished most in the world. But I had always been forgetful, always misplacing things.

Worried I'd lose it, I had someone make a ring with a spiked inner band and fixed it in place; unless someone cut off my finger, nobody could ever take it from me.

Luckily, the ring was two sizes bigger than my finger. Otherwise, I would've had no idea what to do.

The diamond ring was a vibrant yellow diamond with a six-prong setting, engraved with a phrase on the inside of the band. [You are the sun of my life.]

George had designed this ring himself while he was studying in Fairland, planning to give it to his future wife.

The day the jewelry company delivered it, I was the only one home.

We had gotten married, and we were still in that blissful newlywed phase.

When I heard it was a ring George had ordered for the one he loved, my heart skipped a beat, and I couldn't stop smiling. Of course, I assumed it was for me.

When I saw that sparkling diamond ring, with the phrase engraved inside, his feelings laid bare for me, and I was overwhelmed.

So I personally cooked a candlelit dinner for him, wanting to make the night extra special.

Under the dim candlelight, his gentle gaze turned cold the moment he saw the ring on my finger.

"Why is this on your finger?" George asked, his tone strangely tense.

I was so naive back then that I didn't even realize how upset he was. Or maybe I guessed I did notice, but I kept lying to myself.

I kept thinking he was only mad because he wanted to give me the surprise himself, and I ruined it by opening it before he could.

"So, what do you think? Does it look good on me?" I smiled brightly, twirling my ring-adorned hand in front of him.

George smiled a little, but even the soft candlelight couldn't melt the chill in his eyes.

My heart ached.

Even after dying, I still couldn't accept the truth. Maybe George never loved me, not even once.

Pretty soon, I was thrilled to find I could finally step away from my body.

Unfortunately, I quickly realized I was now trapped right next to George.

As soon as George saw my adoptive parents, Luna Lewis and Jasper Lewis, he threw the photos onto the table right in front of them.

Luna covered her mouth, her eyes wide with shock. "What happened to Chloe?"

"Your precious little girl is dead," George said.

"This is too sudden," Jasper said, his face full of shock, then let out a heavy sigh.

Nobody even bothered to ask how I died or why it happened.

George caught every single expression that crossed their faces. There was sadness, but what stood out even more was a subtle sense of relief.

He couldn't believe his eyes.

Dragged along behind George, I crouched in the corner, shivering in fear.