Three days before my wedding, my younger sister staged a scene—one where I supposedly abandoned her in the mountains.

She claimed I locked her in a cabin, left her to be nearly assaulted, and that she barely escaped with her life.

Furious, my fiancé dragged me up the mountain and locked me in that same cabin.

He said, "Wendy, a woman as vicious as you won't learn her lesson without punishment. I already told you I'd marry you. Why go after Chloe? Since you're so desperate to climb your way up, you can stay here until the wedding day."

I begged him, over and over, but my scorched throat could only force out hoarse, grating sounds.

Three days later, Mickey O'Brien stood at the altar in his suit, waiting for me.

What he got instead was my remains.

Night fell, and the villa was swallowed in darkness.

Mickey O'Brien stormed upstairs, his face like stone, fury radiating from him.

He kicked open the bedroom door, yelling, "Wendy, haven't you learned your lesson? You actually dared to provoke Chloe again? Do you even realize how weak she is? Now she's fainted from the stress, and you really have the nerve to act like nothing happened…"

Click. The light snapped on.

His words caught in his throat.

He paused, then pushed open the bathroom door.

Still, no sign of me.

His expression twisted, anger burning deeper now. Just as he stepped out of the room, Becky Liddle, the housekeeper, rushed toward him in a panic.

"Sir, Madam hasn't returned since the day you took her away. We've tried calling, but the phone doesn't go through. Do you think something might have happened to her?"

Mickey's brows drew together. A flicker of concern flashed in his eyes—but in the next second, it vanished behind his usual cold detachment.

"What could possibly happen to her? I only left her on the mountain. If Chloe could make it back, why couldn't she? She's probably off somewhere enjoying herself."

Just as he finished speaking, his phone buzzed. He glanced down—several bank transaction notifications.

His face darkened.

"Typical. Wendy never learns."

He called his assistant, William Benson, his voice cold as ice.

"Freeze all her cards. I want to see how long she can keep playing carefree without money."

On the other end, William stood in the dark woods, a chill crawling up his spine.

"Mr. O'Brien, I'm at the mountain cabin now. Wendy's been locked in here for two days. Do you think… maybe it's time to unlock the door?"

Mickey let out a cold laugh.

"Unlock it? She's already run off by now. And you went all the way up there? What if some wild animal dragged you off, you idiot? Get down here. If something happens, it's not a workplace injury."

Another call came in. He hung up on William and looked at the screen. Seeing the contact name, a faint smile lifted his lips, reaching even his eyes.

"Hey, you're awake? Don't be scared, I'll be right there. I'm almost there. What do you want to eat? I'll bring it for you… Don't mention that vicious woman. People like her live forever. She'll be just fine."

As he hurried off, eager to leave, Becky stood watching his back. She shook her head, sighing softly. "What a sin."

I curled my lips, trying to press down the ache blooming in my chest.

Mickey probably still didn't know—I was already dead. Dead on that desolate mountain, inside that decaying wooden cabin.

For some reason, even in death, my soul wouldn't disperse. It drifted, unwilling, tethered to him.

The moment Mickey stepped through the door, Chloe Capri threw herself into his arms, voice trembling.

"Mickey, you're finally here. I was so scared. I had another nightmare. Tell me—tell me I escaped. Tell me I wasn't violated, right?"

She clutched at him, desperate for reassurance. Her doe-like eyes shimmered with fear.

Mickey wrapped her in his arms and gently stroked her back.

"You got away. No one laid a finger on you. Don't be afraid, Rose. I'm here."

Rose?

Mickey, the woman in your arms—do you really believe she's your beloved Rose?

Don't you know Rose is already dead? You killed her.

My eyes stung as I watched another woman take my name and identity. And I could do nothing.

Chloe curled against him like a wounded creature.

"Mickey, am I really that awful? Is that why my sister treated me that way? That night, I almost… I almost died."

She sobbed delicately and pitifully.

Mickey's voice gentled as he comforted her, but his eyes turned cold.

I knew. He was thinking of me.

Two days ago, when I returned to my parents' house, I saw Chloe on a video call with Mickey.

She called him Jack and mentioned the orphanage.

It felt like a bolt of thunder struck me in the chest.

That name—Jack—split something open inside me. The past, long buried and quiet, surged back like a tidal wave.

I wanted—no, needed—to confront her. But before I could, she knocked me out and locked me away.

She mocked my naivety, forced some drug down my throat that took my voice, stole my phone and every piece of ID I had, then staged a scene where she played the victim—left behind on a mountain by me.

And Mickey, of course, believed every word.

He was furious. Dragged me to the car like a criminal and dumped me in that cabin on the mountain.

I couldn't speak, only cry, pleading with him with my eyes.

He kicked me to the ground and said coldly, "Wendy, a woman as vicious as you won't learn her lesson without punishment. I already told you I'd marry you. Why go after Chloe? Since you're so desperate to climb your way up, you can stay here until the wedding day."

The wedding.

Our wedding.

It was in three days.

We've loved each other for five years. I'd spent every day hoping we'd build a home together.

But he just turned away and locked the door behind him, cutting off the last thread of hope I had.

I pounded on the door, again and again, praying he'd come back, that he'd change his mind. But what came instead were a few large, brutish men, their faces full of violence and cruel amusement.

Their filthy eyes, the twisted grins—they're etched in my mind.

I held my arms tight around myself, my gaze blank as I watched the couple in front of me, locked in an embrace.

Chloe's clothes had slipped halfway down. Her cheeks were flushed, fingers trailing softly across Mickey's chest.

Then, the phone rang.

Annoyed, Mickey frowned, but the persistent ringing left him no choice.

He kissed the corner of her lips. "Gimme a sec, let me take the call."

His eyes darkened as he saw the contact name.

"William," he said coldly. "This better be important, or I'm docking your pay."

On the other end, William's voice trembled, barely holding together.

"Sir… Wendy, she… she…"

He couldn't finish. Even a grown man like him, over six feet tall, looked like he might fall apart.

As the broken words came through the phone, Mickey's patience snapped. "William, spit it out! Or are you begging for a business trip to some remote place?"

William sucked in a breath, then blurted out, "No, sir—Wendy… she's dead."

Silence.

Total silence.

Even I heard it. The words were so clear.

No wonder William had sounded so scared—he'd opened the cabin.

After suffering a day and a night of torment, my limbs were bent unnaturally, and my bones were snapped. Blood had pooled beneath me like a lake. My eyes… were just hollow sockets now.

Even I was afraid of what I looked like.

I studied Mickey's face carefully, unwilling to miss even the smallest twitch of emotion.

We'd loved each other for five years. That was real.

I remember back in college, I once snapped at him over a competition. Yelled at him for nearly an hour.

He just pulled me into a gentle hug, asking softly if I was still mad. Said I could hit him if it made me feel better.

I'd laughed, right then, and kissed him.

But everything changed after he met Chloe.

He gave all his tenderness to her. All his trust. With me, there was only irritation and doubt.

Now that he knew I was dead, I wondered—would he feel something? Anything? Even just for a second?

But Mickey didn't flinch. He didn't show disbelief or sorrow.

Instead, he sneered.

"William, since when did you start working for Wendy? How much is she paying you to say this crap? You pull something like this again, and you're out."

He hung up.

Just like that.

I curled in on myself, pain radiating through my chest.

Mickey. My dear Jack…

You said you'd love me forever. That you'd be good to me for the rest of our lives.

But you broke your promise.

"Jack... did something happen to Wendy?" Chloe's voice trembled. "The wedding's the day after tomorrow. You should go find her. I'm fine, really. I've always been alone. I'm used to it."

Her eyes dimmed, the light in them flickering out like a candle in the wind.

Mickey gently patted her back. "Rose, don't be afraid. I won't let you be alone anymore."

Chloe smiled again, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Really? But you're getting married. You'll be Wendy's husband soon. Jack... you can't stay with me forever."

She tried to pull away from his embrace, but he held her tightly by the waist, refusing to let her go.

His eyes were dark, filled with restraint and a pain he couldn't quite hide.

"Don't go, Rose. Even if I get married to Wendy, I can still be with you. I'll talk to Wendy on the wedding day. I'll ask her to let you move in. After that, we'll never have to be apart again."

Every word was tender, filled with earnest sincerity.

Chloe looked up at him and asked softly, "What if Wendy doesn't agree?"

Mickey fell silent for a moment before answering coldly, "Then I'll call off the wedding."

I curled my lips into a bitter smile, not sure if I wanted to laugh or cry.

He treated Chloe with such care because of "Rose"—because she reminded him of our childhood, of me. And yet, he was willing to sacrifice the present me for the memory of the me from back then.

It was like being trapped in thick and blinding fog. I couldn't see a way out.

Chloe's eyes welled up with tears as she buried herself in his arms. But the smug curl at the corner of her mouth… I saw it all too clearly.

The next day, Mickey got a call from the bridal shop. The alterations were done. The dress was ready for pickup.

Expressionless, he tried calling me.

Once. Twice. Over and over again.

No answer.

Only the cold, mechanical voice: The number you have dialed is unavailable.

And with that, the last of his patience evaporated.

"Wendy, don't ever answer my calls again. Ever."

I laughed silently to myself.

Is that so? Mickey... you'll get your wish. Because I won't ever be able to pick up your call again.

Unable to find me, he brought Chloe to the bridal shop instead.

I stood there and watched—watched as Chloe put on my wedding dress.

She looked at herself in the mirror, her hand covering her mouth as she sobbed quietly.

"Mickey, this feels like a dream. Pinch me. Please. Am I dreaming? Am I really wearing a wedding dress... for you?"

His eyes were full of affection, but he held himself back.

When he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse, laced with longing and tenderness.

"Yes, you are. Rose... you're beautiful."

Chloe's eyes turned red as she looked up at him, hope flickering like flame.

"Mickey... if Wendy didn't exist, if we'd met first... would you have married me?"

Silence.

I held my breath, the weight in my chest threatening to collapse in on itself.

Then I heard him say it, without hesitation. "Yes."

That one word shattered everything. My fingertips trembled.

I watched as Chloe rose onto her toes, lips pressing against Mickey's cheek.

His eyes darkened.

He took control, pulling her in, one hand behind her head, the other wrapped firmly around her waist.

They kissed—long and deep, like lovers lost in the rush of first love.

And just like that, I couldn't tell anymore.

Was it "Rose" that made him lose control?

Or had he truly fallen for Chloe?

All I knew was, he no longer loved me.

Not me—Wendy.

I was already dead, but somehow, my heart still hurt like hell.