Substitute Marriage: My Lethal Comatose Husband

Chapter 3

Word Count: 665 | Released on: 21/05/2026

the pristine white gravel of the

as bag clutched tightly to her chest. She kept h

ive oak front doors. The light from the crystal chan

a in the center of the living roo

e set the teacup down hard, her eyes raking over L

n the sweeping marble staircase. They pointed at Lana

anxiously on the frayed strap of her canvas bag, her thumb discreetly pressing a small, hard button hidden deep

didn't even look at Lana's face. He stoppe

d, his voice devoid of any warmth. "You wil

blinking rapidly

ntgomery is a vegetable. He's going to die any day now,

d has a stipulation. The funds remain locked until h

g lethal. "You have no right to refuse. I

ars into her eyes. "Please, don't do thi

butler. "Take her to the guest room. Lock

gging her up the stairs and down a long

y door slammed shut. The deadb

nter of the room. Sh

ight. The pathetic, fearful girl was gone,

a hidden compartment. She pulled out a device t

the tip. She swept the room, scanning the walls, the

er palm when she pointed it a

Instead, she peeled a microscopic audio-jamming sticker fro

plastic watch, pulling a hair-thin data cable from beneath

lack, then filled with line

e of commands, open

voice came through the spe

ntgomery's trust fund," Lana ordered, her

od," Elon

the window, looking down at the securi

corners of her mouth. "Le

Chapter End

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Substitute Marriage: My Lethal Comatose Husband

Lunacy Horror

“At seven years old, I hid in a closet and watched a man stab my mother to death before setting the room on fire. I survived, changed my name, and spent fifteen years hiding in a rundown garage behind a hideous, fake red birthmark. My fragile peace shattered when my biological father, Declan Thorne, suddenly tracked me down. He didn't come to save me from poverty, but to sell me. He and my half-sisters forced me to marry Sterling Montgomery, a wealthy heir who had been in a coma for six months. They needed my "ugly, bastard" status to unlock a massive trust fund, fully expecting me to spend the rest of my life rotting beside a dying corpse. They laughed at my cheap clothes and disfigured face, locking me in a room to ensure I wouldn't ruin their payday. "You have no right to refuse. I gave you life. This is how you pay me back." They thought I was just a terrified, pathetic pawn they could easily control. They didn't know I was the sole disciple of an underground medical genius, and I had deliberately let them sell me to use the Montgomery family's impenetrable fortress as my shield. When I finally stood alone in the medical wing, I checked my comatose husband's pulse, only to realize his failing vitals were entirely faked. As I reached out to rip off his oxygen mask, the "dying" man suddenly shot up from the bed, his hand clamping around my throat with lethal force.”