Faking My Death to Destroy My Fiancé - Chapter 9: Chapter 9
You are reading Faking My Death to Destroy My Fiancé, Chapter 9: Chapter 9. Read more chapters of Faking My Death to Destroy My Fiancé.
The next morning, Cassandra awoke with ice in her veins. If this engagement was going to end, it wouldn't be with a whimper—it would be with a blade hidden beneath silk. No messy outbursts, no dramatic scenes. Just precision.
That morning, she clung to Matthew's arm, her lashes damp as she whispered, "Please, stay with me today?" Her voice trembled just enough—a rare crack in her usual composure. Matthew, disarmed, softened instantly.
"Of course," he murmured, silencing his phone without a second thought.
But beneath the fragile act, Cassandra's mind was already moving like clockwork. While pretending to doze, she sent two carefully crafted texts to Julia:
"You'll never have him. Walk away before it's too late."
"I still love him—like the wind that crosses oceans without ever looking back."
The lies burned, but they were necessary. By nightfall, her plan was in motion. Matthew, lulled by her uncharacteristic tenderness, had no idea what was coming.
The final day dawned.
Matthew's phone buzzed incessantly during breakfast. Cassandra reached for his hand, her smile saccharine. "Just ignore it," she pleaded.
Hesitating, he finally silenced it. For a heartbeat, he let himself believe in her again. But Cassandra knew the truth. She'd seen through him long ago. This wasn't just revenge—it was payback for every slight, every time he'd made her feel disposable.
Later, in the garden, her phone vibrated with Julia's damning message:
[Your precious Matthew? He told me he'd rather die childless than adopt with you. Funny how he never mentioned that, huh?]
The words hit like a knife. She remembered the doctor's quiet sympathy after the accident: "The damage is too severe. You may never conceive."
Matthew's refusal to consider adoption had once seemed like loyalty. Now, it was just another lie—another way to keep her trapped in his hollow promises. Her eyes burned, but she refused to let a single tear fall.
If he'd stolen her love, her dignity, her future—she'd take something irreplaceable in return.
Standing among the blossoms, Cassandra smiled. By the time she was done, Matthew would carry the weight of what he'd lost for the rest of his miserable life.
That morning, she clung to Matthew's arm, her lashes damp as she whispered, "Please, stay with me today?" Her voice trembled just enough—a rare crack in her usual composure. Matthew, disarmed, softened instantly.
"Of course," he murmured, silencing his phone without a second thought.
But beneath the fragile act, Cassandra's mind was already moving like clockwork. While pretending to doze, she sent two carefully crafted texts to Julia:
"You'll never have him. Walk away before it's too late."
"I still love him—like the wind that crosses oceans without ever looking back."
The lies burned, but they were necessary. By nightfall, her plan was in motion. Matthew, lulled by her uncharacteristic tenderness, had no idea what was coming.
The final day dawned.
Matthew's phone buzzed incessantly during breakfast. Cassandra reached for his hand, her smile saccharine. "Just ignore it," she pleaded.
Hesitating, he finally silenced it. For a heartbeat, he let himself believe in her again. But Cassandra knew the truth. She'd seen through him long ago. This wasn't just revenge—it was payback for every slight, every time he'd made her feel disposable.
Later, in the garden, her phone vibrated with Julia's damning message:
[Your precious Matthew? He told me he'd rather die childless than adopt with you. Funny how he never mentioned that, huh?]
The words hit like a knife. She remembered the doctor's quiet sympathy after the accident: "The damage is too severe. You may never conceive."
Matthew's refusal to consider adoption had once seemed like loyalty. Now, it was just another lie—another way to keep her trapped in his hollow promises. Her eyes burned, but she refused to let a single tear fall.
If he'd stolen her love, her dignity, her future—she'd take something irreplaceable in return.
Standing among the blossoms, Cassandra smiled. By the time she was done, Matthew would carry the weight of what he'd lost for the rest of his miserable life.
End of Faking My Death to Destroy My Fiancé Chapter 9. Continue reading Chapter 10 or return to Faking My Death to Destroy My Fiancé book page.