His Fake Death My Real Grave

The day the Harrington Group collapsed into bankruptcy, my husband, Alex, was pushed off a cliff to protect me. His body was never found.

To pay off the mountain of debt he left behind, I had no choice but to step onto the stage of a dim, neon-lit underground club.

Three years later, as I stood in the center of that stage wearing nothing but a cheap silk slip dress, a familiar voice cut through the rowdy, whistling crowd.

My former best friend, Camille, stood right in front of the stage, pressing a hand over her mouth to suppress a giggle.

"Oh, Alex, you won again!"

"Who would've thought Elsa loved money so much that she'd actually survive in a place like this for three whole years just for you?"

I froze on the stage, my eyes locked onto Alexalive, breathing, and standing right there.

With a completely indifferent expression, he stepped up and snatched the cash right out of my hand.

"Elsa, I knew you only loved me for my money. It was wrong of Camille and me to make that bet, and I'm sorry for faking my death and bankruptcy to test you."

"But youre still a Harrington. How could you humiliate yourselfand meby exposing yourself in a filthy place like this?"

"Whatever. I know you did it for me. But let's not keep this dirty money."

He tossed the bills into the air, letting them flutter down like dry leaves. My chest felt hollowed out, as if a rusted blade had carved out my heart.

A cruel, fleeting prank to him.

But for me, it meant falling from my heights as the principal dancer of a world-renowned contemporary ballet company to a cheap novelty act, dancing for the amusement of drunk strangers.

What he didn't know was that I had already paid off his supposed massive debts.

And the money he just threw away? It wasn't dirty. It was every cent I had savednow that I was dying of stomach cancerto buy a quiet burial plot where I hoped we could rest together.

My mind went entirely blank. Instinctively, I dropped to my knees to gather the scattered bills.

But Alex grabbed my wrist, his grip tight and suffocating. His brow furrowed in deep disgust.

"Stop it! Look at yourself. How did you let yourself sink this low?!"

The physical pain in my chest finally caught up to me, sharp and agonizing.

I looked down at my cheap, threadbare dress, at my bruised knees, and let out a dry, quiet breath of a laugh.

When I didn't say anything, his eyes flared with irritation.

"Fine. I'm apologizing, okay? What more do you want?"

Beside him, Camilles eyes welled with tears. She whispered softly, "Elsa, please don't be mad. If you hadn't... well, Alex wouldn't have felt the need to test you like this. He still loves you. Don't make him angry, please?"

I looked at her, my lips still curled in that hollow smile. "So, I should thank you? Thank you both for conspiring to drag me into hell?"

She flinched, her shoulders trembling as she reached out to grab Alex's sleeve. "No, Elsa, it wasn't like that..."

"Enough!"

The brief flicker of warmth in Alex's eyes vanished. He shoved me away.

"You chose this! You chose to degrade yourself!"

I lost my balance and crashed hard against the cold, sticky floor of the club.

My stomach violently spasmed. A copper-sour taste surged up my throat. I bit my lower lip hard, forcing the nausea and the blood back down.

Alexs gaze softened with a brief, conflicted hesitation. He reached a hand out toward me, then quickly pulled it back, hardening his expression.

"I already apologized. What else do you want? Do you have to make a scene and embarrass us both?"

I didn't hear him. I blocked out his voice, waiting for the worst of the spasm to pass before pushing myself up. One by one, I began picking up the crumpled bills.

Irritated, Alex stepped over and snatched the small stack from my fingers again.

"I said, don't touch this dirty money! Are you deaf?"

My eyes burned, tears hot and uncontrollable. "It's my money. I earned it. How is it dirty?"

He laughed, a harsh, mocking sound. "Earned it? By stripping? By selling yourself?"

He stopped mid-sentence. Seeing how the color drained from my face, he looked away uneasily. "Elsa! You were a principal dancer. Now you're here, shaking your body for change. Are you really going to tell me this was all for me?"

Camille sighed, her voice dripping with pity. "Elsa, even if you were desperate for cash, you shouldn't have thrown away your dignity like this." She paused, her eyes lingering on my bare shoulders with unmistakable contempt.

Emboldened by her words, Alex glared at me. "If you had an ounce of self-respect, you wouldve found any other job. You only stayed here because its easy, fast money."

I stared at him, stunned. Then, a laugh escaped mebitter and sharp.

"What other job, Alex? What else can I do? Go back to the stage? Audition for the ballet?"

I dragged myself up, ignoring the throbbing pain. Under their watchful eyes, I took two uneven, halting steps forward, dragging my stiff right foot behind me.

"Look at me, Alex. I'm a cripple. I can't dance anymore."

Three years ago, when Alex faked his death, the loan sharks cornered me at our front door.

They dragged me down the steps. Someone planted their heavy boot on my ankle and pressed down until the bone shattered.

When I finally woke up in the hospital, I had lost our baby. And I had lost my career forever.

I looked down, reaching out to snatch my money back from his hands.

I needed this cash.

My life had been a miserable tragedy. Now that I was dying, the least I could do was buy a piece of earth to bury myself in.

Alexs eyes flared red. He kicked a nearby speaker cabinet, the heavy thud echoing through the empty venue.

"Who did it?! Who did this to you?!"

The club owner, who had been watching from the shadows, scurried over. He exchanged a quick, knowing look with Camille before speaking.

"Mr. Harrington, back then, she got involved with some wealthy businessman. His wife found out and had her beaten... It had absolutely nothing to do with our club!"

A rush of blood roared in my ears. I screamed at the owner, "Youre lying! Thats a lie! I never did that!"

Alex froze. The disgust and contempt in his eyes returned, colder than before. Before I could say another word, his hand swung out, slapping me hard across the face.

"Elsa, you are pathetic."

I collapsed onto the freezing floor. The impact shattered the fragile hold I had on my stomach. I turned my head and retched, dark blood splattering across the concrete.

As my vision began to fade into black, I thought I saw Alexs face twist in sheer panic, rushing toward me.

I closed my eyes.

If there was a God, I prayed I would never have to see him again.

When I opened my eyes, the sterile smell of disinfectant filled my nose. I was lying in a hospital bed.

Alex was standing nearby, flipping through a medical chart. He looked up, his expression a tangled mess of emotions.

"I gave you everything when we were together. How could you ruin yourself like this?"

My fingers curled against the coarse hospital sheets.

Did he know? Did he finally look at the chart?

Camille, her eyes red, gently took my hand. "Elsa, stop being so stubborn. The doctor says your stomach ulcer has worsened. If you keep pushing yourself, youre going to kill yourself."

I stared at her. I caught the brief, frantic flicker of panic in her eyes, and in that instant, I understood everything.

But I didn't say a word.

I was too tired. I just wanted to go home.

Even if home was a damp, dark basement apartment of less than a hundred square feet, it was better than being near them.

I reached up and pulled the IV needle from the back of my hand, my voice flat and hollow. "This is none of your business."

Alex lunged forward, pinning my hand down, his brows knitted together. "Stop acting out! You're sick, Elsa. Let them treat you!"

I looked up at him. I didn't even have the energy to be angry. I just let out a soft sigh.

"Alex, I don't have any money."

I picked up my cheap, cracked phone from the bedside table, unlocked it, and showed him my bank account balance.

0-004.23.

That was everything I owned in this world.

I glanced around the luxurious private suite. A dry laugh caught in my throat. "This room must be expensive. Thousands a night, right? My life is cheap. I don't belong in a place like this."

My words seemed to cut through him. His eyes turned glassy and red. "Who says your life is cheap? Elsa, as long as I'm here, you will have a good life. I promise you."

The words poured out of him automatically, and then he froze.

The room fell into a heavy, suffocating silence.

I lowered my eyes.

I knew what he was remembering. He was remembering the past.

When we were in middle school, my father passed away, and my mother treated me like an unwanted burden. I rarely had enough to eat.

But the moment Alex saw me, he clung to me.

"You look so sad," he had said, tilting his head. "Does nobody want you? Can I take care of you instead?"

I had shrunk back, terrified and confused. But he kept his word. He took care of me.

He brought me fresh breakfast every morning. He walked me home every day after school, holding my hand tightly.

Camille had quickly befriended me too, pretending to be my sister, but I could always see the sharp, venomous envy hiding behind her smiles.

Once, a group of girls locked me in a bathroom stall and poured buckets of ice-cold water over my head.

Through the door, their laughter rang out:

"Elsa, youre nothing but a stray dog! Wagging your tail for Alex's scraps. It makes me sick just looking at you!"

I had curled into a tight ball on the wet floor, too terrified to make a sound.

Suddenly, the door was kicked open. Alex stood there, his face dark with fury.

"Who says Elsa is cheap? As long as I'm here, she will have the best life!"

He had lifted me gently into his arms, wrapping his dry jacket around me, whispering sweet promises.

Standing behind him, Camilles gaze had been like a poison-tipped blade.

Back then, I truly believed Alex was a gift from heaven.

So, without a second thought, I clung to him.

And he had patted my back, repeating over and over, "I'll always be here. I'll make you the happiest girl in the world."

I believed him. And for a long time, he kept that promise.

He treated me like a princess, helped me cut ties with my toxic mother, and gave me a safe space to focus on my dancing.

For the first time in my life, I felt cherished.

Until the year we graduated from college.

A massive leak of the Harrington Group's confidential files caused their capital chain to snap, bringing the company to the brink of bankruptcy.

Alex went mad trying to find the traitor.

In the end, every single piece of evidence pointed directly to me.

My mind went blank. I denied it frantically, desperately.

But I couldn't explain the sudden, mysterious transfer of $500,000 into my mothers bank account.

He had stared at me, his eyes bloodshot, his hands shaking. "Tell me you didn't know. Tell me it wasn't you."

I nodded desperately, looking into his eyes. "It wasn't me, Alex. Please, you have to believe me!"

He was silent for a long time before finally pulling me into his arms.

At the time, I thought the storm had passed.

I forgot that, through it all, he had never actually said the words: I believe you.

The sharp sting on the back of my hand snapped me out of the memory.

Dark red blood was backflowing into the IV tube.

I pinched the needle and pulled it out without hesitation.

Blood welled up immediately, but I ignored it and swung my legs out of bed.

Before I could even stand straight, a white-hot pain stabbed through my stomach, twisting my insides.

As I began to fall, a pair of warm arms caught me by the waist. The familiar, woody scent of his cologne filled my senses.

I pushed him away with all the strength I could muster, leaning against the wall as dry heaves tore through me.

Alexs face turned an angry shade of bruised purple. He grabbed my wrist and threw me back onto the mattress.

"Elsa! What the hell do you want from me?!"

He towered over me, the veins on his temples pulsing.

"You almost destroyed my family's legacy back then, and I didn't even hold it against you!"

"I only asked you to pay back that $500,000 so we could put it behind us and start over! Why can't we just live our lives?!"

The copper taste rose in my throat again, but nothing came up. My lungs felt squeezed.

Unable to speak, I fumbled through my bag, pulled out a bottle of cheap over-the-counter painkillers, and swallowed two dry.

I sat there trembling, waiting for the medication to take the edge off.

It seemed my condition was worse than I thought. Even the high-dose pills were barely working anymore.

I took a ragged breath and looked up, exhausted.

"Alex... I'm sorry. I was too greedy back then."

Too greedy for his warmth. Too dependent on his presence.

I stared blankly at the ugly, jagged scar winding around my right ankle.

"I paid the money back. I paid the price... Please, just let me go home."

Camille gently tugged on his sleeve. "Alex, don't get upset. Why don't you step outside and clear your head? Let me talk to Elsa."

His face was dark. Without another word, he turned on his heel and stormed out.

The silence in the room stretched until I finally forced my raspy voice to break it.

"It was you, wasn't it? All of it."

Camille let out a soft, mocking giggle.

"Well, look at you. Not as stupid as you look."

I didn't answer.

The quiet girl in school who suddenly became the target of relentless bullying.

My estranged mother, who somehow managed to get her hands on a $500,000 transfer from my account.

I would have to be blind not to see the patterns now.

Suddenly, the door was kicked open. A group of burly men rushed in, dragging me off the bed and forcing me onto my knees on the cold floor.

Camille stepped up, her face twisting into something ugly and unrecognizable, and slapped me hard across the cheek.

"Elsa, you worthless stray dog. What makes you think you can steal my Alex?"

"We grew up together! He belongs to me! You filthy bitch!"

With every word, another heavy blow landed on my face.

My cheeks burned and swelled, while Camille watched my agony, her lips curling into a satisfied smile.

She slowly reached into her designer bag, pulled out a black-and-white printout of an ultrasound, and waved it in front of my face.

"Recognize this, Elsa? The little bastard you couldn't even manage to carry to term."

My pupils dilated. Something inside me snapped. I broke free from the guard's grip and lunged forward, desperately clawing for the paper.

She scoffed and planted her heel directly into my chest.

I flew back, hitting the metal frame of the bed. A mouthful of dark blood sprayed across the floor.

I glared at her, but the men pinned me down again, their fists and boots raining down on my back and ribs.

The baby I never got to hold. My only real family.

He had only lived inside me for four months. Before he could even open his eyes to see the world, he was gone, leaving behind nothing but this crumpled piece of paper to prove he had ever existed.

Blood dripped from my lips, mixing with my tears on the linoleum.

I coughed, my voice cracked and broken. "Give it back... Camille, please... give it back..."

My vision blurred into a hazy, crimson smear.

Then, a furious roar echoed from the doorway.

"What the hell are you doing?! Get away from her!"

Alex rushed into the room, shoving the men aside and scooping me into his arms. His eyes were wide with panic.

Camille's face paled for a fraction of a second before her eyes filled with tears.

"Alex... these people said she was sleeping with some married man and got pregnant with his bastard..."

She cut herself off, feigning shock, and tried to hide the ultrasound behind her back.

The arms holding me instantly went rigid.