My husband’s secretary was trapped in a locked car for half an hour. In a fit of blind rage, he locked me inside the storage room. I knelt on the floor, desperately gripping the hem of his shirt, confessing to a crime I didn’t commit. But he impatiently pried my fingers away and stomped hard on my hand. His eyes held not a single shred of warmth. "Who do you think you are, daring to hurt Chloe?" Suffering from severe claustrophobia, I curled up in the pitch-black, cramped space, gasping violently for air. My palms were torn and bloody from clawing at the door, yet it did nothing to fend off the suffocating, impending grip of death. A week later, he finally remembered me after returning from an overseas vacation with his secretary. But little did he know, I had long died in a pool of terror and hatred. Chapter 1 1 When Ethan Carter walked into the villa with his arm wrapped tightly around Chloe Davis’s waist, the maids had already decorated the house perfectly. Rose petals scattered across the floor, a dazzling diamond necklace resting on the dining table, and beside it, a three-tier cake featuring a custom cartoon caricature of a girl. Everything screamed of just how much Ethan valued Chloe. Leaning against Ethan’s chest, Chloe saw the surprise. She covered her mouth in shock, her eyes shimmering with tears as she looked up at him. "Ethan, you treat me so well!" Ethan affectionately tapped the tip of her nose, his tone incredibly gentle. "I have one more gift for you." He turned to his personal assistant and ordered coldly: "Go upstairs and tell Mia to come down. I’m going to make that vicious bitch kneel and apologize to Chloe in front of everyone." I watched the man I had loved for ten years with cold, dead eyes. My heart was utterly numb. "Ethan, please don't blame Mia. I believe she didn't mean to hurt me on purpose. We are half-sisters, after all. If you punish her, it’ll break my heart." Chloe’s voice took on a tearful edge, but with my omniscient view, I caught the fleeting gleam of pure malice in her eyes. Yes, I was already dead. A week ago, an infuriated Ethan decided to "teach me a lesson" by locking me inside a storage room that was barely ten square feet. I had desperately clawed at the doorframe, admitting to every fabricated sin he accused me of, just begging him not to lock me in that dark, suffocating box. But all he left me was his back and a vicious promise: "I will make you suffer a hundred times over for the pain you caused Chloe. This is what you owe her!" He seemed to have completely forgotten that I suffered from severe claustrophobia. While he held Chloe’s hand and flew to Iceland to watch the Northern Lights, I was curled into a tight ball, suffocating. I had pinched and clawed at my own arms and thighs until they were a bloody mess, desperately trying to anchor my fading consciousness. But in the end, it wasn’t enough. In my final moment, my soul violently tore itself away from that terrifying room. Hearing Chloe plead for me, Ethan’s heart melted. He reached out and gently cupped her cheek. "You’re just too kind for your own good. That’s why she keeps bullying you. I won’t let her hurt you ever again!" I couldn't help but let out a cold laugh. So, in his eyes, I had always been this evil, venomous woman. Everything I had ever sacrificed for him had become nothing more than a colossal joke. Just then, his assistant came running down the stairs in an absolute panic. 2 "Mr. Carter, there’s no response from the storage room. Mrs. Carter... she doesn't seem to be breathing." A flicker of panic flashed across Ethan’s eyes, but it was quickly replaced by a knowing, cynical smirk. "Liam, has Mia bought you out too?" "I let it slide when you helped her trap Chloe in the car, but now you’re helping her fake her own death?" "It seems you’ve forgotten who signs your paychecks. Pack your things. You’re fired." Before Liam could even utter a word of defense, Ethan took Chloe’s hand and led her up to the master bedroom. Liam stood frozen in the foyer. He opened his mouth, but ultimately, no words came out. I genuinely couldn't fathom how Ethan had morphed into this monster. We used to be so deeply in love. I had known Ethan for ten years. I stayed by his side when he built his startup from the ground up, all the way until he became a rising corporate magnate. But it wasn't until I died that I finally understood: the scale in Ethan’s heart had tipped the very second Chloe walked into his life. Chloe Davis was Ethan’s personal secretary. She was also my half-sister. A week ago, Ethan took Chloe and Liam on a business trip to visit a supplier. That same day, my mother—who was in the final stages of terminal cancer—had a rare moment of clarity. She held my hand, softly asking about my marriage with Ethan. But the very next second, the numbers on her monitor plummeted. Staring at the closed doors of the resuscitation room, I helplessly dialed Ethan’s number. He rushed over and sat silently beside me in the waiting area. That is, until his phone rang. It was Chloe, and his face instantly drained of color. Over the phone, Chloe weakly sobbed about how scared she was, even having the nerve to tell Ethan to "take good care of your legal wife." Panic consumed Ethan. Ignoring my tearful pleas, he didn't even grab his coat before sprinting out of the hospital to save her. What he didn't know was that just ten minutes after he walked away, my mother left this world forever. The pathetic part was that even then, I still hadn't grasped how much Chloe meant to him. Not until he shoved me into that storage room with a deadpan expression, crouched down, pinched my jaw hard, and said with ice in his voice: "Mia, I used to think you were just a bit jealous, but I never realized you were this venomous. Chloe is your own sister, and you actually tried to kill her." "If it weren't for you and your short-lived mother, I wouldn't have left Chloe's side when she was in danger!" "Stay in here and reflect on what you've done. You can come out when you finally figure out exactly what you did wrong." My fingers were crushed beneath his expensive shoes, and my heart was left numb with agony. And now, he was still waiting for me to lower my head and obediently apologize. Too bad for him, this was one expectation I would never meet. Ethan stood outside the storage room door, his face radiating icy disdain. "Mia, it’s time to drop this little temper tantrum of yours. You know my patience is limited." "Crawl out here right now and give Chloe a proper apology, and I might just consider forgiving you." He was met with dead silence. Growing impatient, Ethan pounded heavily on the storage room door, his voice turning malicious. "Fine. If you don't want to come out, then rot in there." Watching his retreating figure, a profound sorrow welled up inside me. I had no choice but to admit that the man I once loved so fiercely had rotten away from the inside out a long time ago. Chapter 2 3 For the next few days, Ethan stayed by Chloe’s side. He didn't come home once. I watched him diligently care for another woman—taking her out to dinner, watching movies with her, doing every romantic thing couples do. All I could do was laugh at my own pathetic life. Today was my father’s birthday. Bright and early, Ethan showed up at the Davis residence with bags of expensive gifts, Chloe right by his side. My father, who was watering the plants in the front yard, beamed with joy as he ushered them inside. Chloe skipped over and intimately hooked her arm through my father’s, acting spoiled and sweet. Ethan just watched her with a fond smile, carrying the gifts behind them. It was so natural. It looked like the three of them were the real family. At the dinner table, Chloe’s sweet-talking had my father laughing non-stop. Ethan routinely picked up Chloe's favorite dishes and placed them in her bowl. From beginning to end, not a single person mentioned me. It was Ethan’s ringing phone that shattered the domestic bliss. He answered it, and the voice on the other end made his expression freeze. "Hello, Mr. Carter. I am a doctor at City General Hospital. We received a female corpse today. Based on DNA matching, we have confirmed that the deceased is your wife, Mrs. Mia Carter." "Would it be convenient for you to come to the hospital now to process the paperwork?" Ethan furrowed his brow, listening to the caller. Then he scoffed, his tone dripping with mockery. "Oh? Let me guess, Mia hired you to put on this little show? Do me a favor and tell her that playing dead won’t earn my forgiveness." "Also, tell her this trick is incredibly boring." Without waiting for a response, Ethan hung up the phone. Seeing him put the phone down, Chloe asked with a face full of concern: "Ethan, did something happen to my sister?" Ethan reached out, affectionately patted the top of her head, and shook his head. But for the rest of the dinner, he was completely distracted. He even accidentally served Chloe celery several times, knowing it was the vegetable she hated most. Even my father noticed something was off, so he didn't insist Ethan stay late. To my surprise, after Ethan drove Chloe home that night, he didn't stay over at her place like he usually did. Instead, he drove straight to City General Hospital. I followed him to the chilly hallway outside the morgue. His hand rested on the door handle, but he hesitated to press it down. I saw his lips moving. It wasn't until I drifted closer that I heard what he was whispering. "Mia, if I find out you’re playing another prank on me, I’m going to flay you alive!" Hah! Even now, he was still threatening a dead woman. If I had a physical body, I wouldn't have been able to stop myself from slapping him across the face. As if he finally braced himself, Ethan pushed the door open and walked into the morgue. The medical examiner on the night shift was dozing off at his desk. Seeing Ethan’s dark figure, he jumped up in alarm. "Who are you?!" Acting as if he heard nothing, Ethan walked slowly toward a steel gurney a few feet away, where a body lay covered by a white sheet. "Mia, get the hell up! Stop pretending!" Ethan stood before the corpse, his fists clenched tight, shouting as if he were trying to suppress a massive surge of anger. But it was a corpse. How could a corpse answer him? Suddenly, Ethan lost his mind. He grabbed my lifeless body through the sheet and began shaking it violently. Somehow, even floating in the air, I felt a phantom wave of severe dizziness. The doctor finally snapped out of his shock, rushed over, and tackled Ethan in a bear hug to stop his manic shaking. "Mr. Carter, please calm down!" Ethan shoved the doctor away roughly, screaming: "This can’t be Mia! You’re all liars! You’re all lying to me!" Honestly, it had been a very, very long time since I had seen Ethan lose control like this. Yet, at this moment, I only felt an overwhelming urge to laugh. The doctor shook his head at Ethan’s hysterics. He walked back to his desk, picked up a piece of paper, and handed it to Ethan. Chapter 3 4 I floated closer and saw that it was my official death certificate. "Mr. Carter, it was your housemaid who noticed a foul odor coming from the storage room. That’s how your wife’s body was found." "My condolences." The doctor patted Ethan’s shoulder and quietly left the room, giving him space. Ethan was left entirely alone. He crouched on the floor, his head bowed, staring blankly at the death certificate in his hands. "How is this possible? Mia, how could you be dead?" "You’re lying to me, aren’t you?" "Yes, that has to be it! I’m going to expose your lie right now!" When Ethan tried to stand, he stumbled, staggering awkwardly toward the covered corpse. "Mia, I’m giving you one last chance. Get up right now, and we can pretend none of this ever happened." The room was dead silent. Ethan pinched the corner of the white sheet but couldn't bring himself to lift it. I saw his fingers trembling uncontrollably. A sudden, wicked urge flared within me—I wanted to scare him. I wanted him to taste true terror and despair. Summoning all the spectral energy I had, I blew a gust of cold air directly at the sheet. It slipped off the body and drifted to the floor. My corpse was entirely exposed to his eyes. Due to suffocation, my face was a bruised, mottled purple. It was so grotesque that even I found it horrifying to look at. My eyes, which had never closed even in death, bulged out grotesquely. Under the eerie fluorescent lights of the morgue, it was a nightmarish sight. "Ahhhhh!" Ethan screamed, stumbling backward until he fell hard onto his rear. He kept scrambling backward, shouting: "Stay away from me! Don't come closer! I was wrong!" Seeing his pathetic, comedic reaction, the heavy knot of resentment in my chest finally loosened just a bit. Ethan sat paralyzed on the floor for a long time before he finally caught his breath. When he stood up, his legs were still shaking violently. He slowly inched his way back to the corpse. Staring down at the lifeless, horrifying shell that used to be his wife, his eyes turned bloodshot. "How is this possible?" "Nothing happened between me and Chloe! Please, don't be mad at me anymore, okay? Just come back!" A massive tear fell from his eye. Then a second, and a third. I truly didn't understand this man anymore. When I was alive, he ruthlessly trampled all over my devoted heart. Now that I was dead, he was putting on this grand, tragic performance. Who was he acting for? 5 I had known Ethan for ten years, and I had loved him for ten years. When we first met, he was the untouchable, brilliant golden boy of our university, while I was quiet and gloomy due to my broken family. I never expected our paths to cross, but I couldn't stop myself from watching his every move from afar. I was like a rat hiding in the dark, desperate for the light but too terrified to touch it, only able to admire it from a distance. In our senior year, I heard he was starting his own tech company. Without hesitation, I threw away a lucrative offer from a Fortune 500 company to join his scrappy startup. In the early days, it was just the two of us. I lived with him in a damp, moldy basement apartment. I ate stale leftovers and even ended up in the hospital with food poisoning just to save a few bucks. Even the claustrophobia that eventually killed me was entirely because of Ethan. Back then, we were desperately searching for a decent office space on a shoestring budget. We toured building after building. The accident happened on one of those tours. We found a newly built high-rise in the suburbs. Little did we know, the developers had cut corners and installed an elevator that didn't meet safety standards. That day, Ethan and I were trapped in that pitch-black elevator for five excruciating hours. I genuinely thought I was going to die in there. Ever since that day, I suffered from paralyzing claustrophobia. But I never imagined that the man who survived that brush with death alongside me would eventually use an almost identical method to push me into my grave. Chapter 4 When the company finally stabilized, we threw a celebration party for landing our first million-dollar contract. That night, I confessed my feelings to him. I will always remember how we held each other tightly under the cheering of our colleagues. At that moment, I truly believed we were going to be together forever. The turning point came in our second year of dating. We were preparing for our wedding, but my parents suddenly announced their divorce. My normally elegant, composed mother went absolutely hysterical. That was when I learned my father had been cheating on her for years, and he had an illegitimate daughter born two months before me. That daughter was Chloe Davis. How hilarious was it? Just a few months prior, my father had pressured me into making Ethan bend the hiring rules to give Chloe a job at our company. The night before the wedding, my mother sat next to me, holding my hand. She told me all men were garbage and asked if I was really sure about this. At that time, I was naive but firmly convinced that Ethan would be the exception. Looking back now, my innocence was laughable. After leaving the hospital, Ethan drove back to our house. Seeing him enter, the maids rushed forward to greet him, but he just waved them off, his face deathly pale. He walked straight up to the storage room in the attic. Even though the maids had thoroughly cleaned it, a faint, foul odor of death still lingered. Returning to this terrifying place made my ghostly stomach churn. The despair and suffocation I felt right before I died crashed over me like a tidal wave. But Ethan acted as if he didn't smell a thing. He walked right in. He suddenly pulled his arm back and punched the wall with everything he had, muttering like a madman: "Fine! You dare run away from me, Mia? Faking your death to trick me? When I catch you, you're dead meat." I didn't even know how to react anymore. My literal corpse had been laid out right in front of his eyes, and he was still lying to himself. It was beyond pathetic. 6 Ethan locked himself in the master bedroom for two whole days, drinking bottle after bottle of whiskey. It wasn't until the third day that a heavily dressed-up Chloe came to the house with a new assistant to pick him up. Today was the company’s annual gala. It sounds absurd, but as the CEO's wife, I had never once attended an annual gala. After we got married, Ethan told me that a house needed someone to manage it, and he couldn't bear to see me exhausted from the corporate grind. Like a fool, I believed him. I left the company and became a full-time housewife. Fast forward to today, and aside from a few founding members, almost no one at the company even knew Ethan was married. At the gala, Chloe hooked her arm through Ethan’s, flashing a radiant smile and never leaving his side. As the banquet neared its end, Ethan went on stage to give the CEO's address. Towards the end, his tone shifted: "Tonight, I want to thank a very special someone. She has walked this long road with me, staying quietly by my side." "Without her, I wouldn't be who I am today, and this company wouldn't exist." ... Before Ethan could finish, a commotion broke out near the front tables. Chloe had somehow collapsed onto the floor. The man who was just giving a speech instantly dropped his champagne glass, bolted off the stage, pushed through the crowd, and helped her up. Ethan’s face was fraught with tension. "Chloe, are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?" Chloe looked up, her eyes wide and tearful as she stared at his face. "I think I sprained my ankle. I'm so sorry, Mr. Carter, I interrupted your speech." Without another word, Ethan scooped her up into his arms in a bridal carry. Chloe buried her flushed face into his chest, looking like a shy, delicate flower. Hah. Chloe was just using her old tricks to prove she held more weight in his heart than I did. Back when my parents first divorced, I only hated Chloe’s mother for destroying our perfect family. I had genuinely thought Chloe was innocent. I even entertained the delusion of being friends with her. But what did she do? At my father's 60th birthday banquet, she pulled me aside near the staircase. Dropping the innocent facade she wore in front of the elders, she glared at me with pure venom. "I want you to watch very closely as I take everything that belongs to you. Not just our dad. Your man, too." Then, she intentionally threw herself backward, tumbling down the stairs. I stood at the top, frozen in shock. By the time I snapped out of it, I was met with my father’s explosive fury: "How did I raise such a vicious daughter?! You're exactly like your psychotic mother!" I stared numbly as the father I had always respected held Chloe with agonizing tenderness, while Ethan stood behind them, looking up at me with a complicated, dark expression. I tried to explain, but absolutely no one believed me. Although Ethan never said it out loud, I knew deep down he believed I was the one who pushed her. And from that day onward, Ethan and Chloe grew closer and closer. Chapter 5 Whenever Ethan went on business trips, he always remembered to bring her a gift. He reasoned, "She’s your sister and my subordinate. It’s only polite." Whenever Chloe felt the slightest bit sick, Ethan was the first person she called. He would rush out in the dead of night to take her to the ER. To him, my complaints were just signs of a jealous, unsympathetic shrew. I watched Chloe slowly infiltrate my life and Ethan's life, and I couldn't do a thing to stop it. Because Ethan looked me dead in the eye and said, "I despise jealous women." Just like tonight. Chloe clearly realized the "special someone" in his speech wasn't her, so she deliberately bumped into a waiter and faked a sprained ankle. But I no longer had the right—or the desire—to intervene. 7 The gala ended abruptly due to Chloe's "injury" and Ethan's hasty exit. He carried her straight to his car and drove to the hospital. I couldn't help but remember last winter. A nasty flu was going around, and I caught it. I laid in bed all day, burning up with a high fever, drifting in and out of consciousness. That night, unable to endure the pain, I called Ethan and begged him to come home and take me to the clinic. And what was his response? He said he was incredibly busy and told me not to bother him with such trivial things. He added that even if he rushed home, he wasn't a doctor, so it wouldn't make a difference anyway. You see, when it came to me, he was always so rational, so detached. But now, over Chloe’s minor ankle sprain, he dropped his entire company of employees just to rush her to the doctor. Strangely, though, when they arrived at the examination room, Ethan didn't follow her inside. Chloe grabbed his sleeve, looking up with a confused, cautious expression. "Ethan, aren't you coming in with me? Did I... did I make you mad?" Her voice grew quieter and quieter until she lowered her head, playing the role of the fragile victim perfectly. I had to admit, her acting was getting professional. It was a pitiable sight. But oddly enough, this time, Ethan wasn't swayed by her routine. He stared blankly at the top of her head before finally speaking. "Be a good girl. I'll have Liam's replacement go in with you. I'm going to grab a smoke. I'll be right back." With that, he turned sharply and walked away. I followed him, only to find ourselves back in a very familiar place: the morgue. The night-shift doctor was the same as before. Seeing Ethan, he didn't try to stop him. He just patted Ethan's shoulder in sympathy and stepped outside. My corpse was still in the exact same spot. Ethan walked straight over to it, pulled back the white sheet, and stared with bloodshot eyes. "Mia, you’re just punishing me, right?" "Well, I’m telling you, it worked. You won. So please, just get up now." He sat on the cold floor, his back leaning against the steel table, staring hollowly at the opposite wall. "Are you mad because I got too close to Chloe? As long as you come back, I’ll fire her immediately. I swear I’ll stay far away from her." "I refuse to believe you’re dead. You loved me so much. How could you bear to leave me?" Ethan's voice was hoarse, as if the words were being forcefully squeezed from his throat. By the end, he was choking back sobs. In the past, whenever he did something to upset me, all he had to do was lower his head and act slightly apologetic, and I would throw away all my boundaries and forgive him unconditionally. But that was in the past. Now, watching him play the victim and beg, I only felt nauseated. "That's right. How could you bear to leave me? There has to be more to this. I'm going to find out the truth!" Ethan wiped away his tears, completely discarding his melancholic breakdown, and suddenly looked intensely driven. Seriously, I really wanted to ask him where he got the sheer audacity to assume I still harbored any lingering affection for him. He sprang up from the floor and marched out of the hospital with wide strides. He completely forgot about Chloe, who was still waiting for him in the examination room.
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