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He Secretly Married My Sister ,So I Faked My Death and Let Him Lose Everything Novel Cover

He Secretly Married My Sister ,So I Faked My Death and Let Him Lose Everything

On her fifth anniversary, Ms. Dickerson decides to walk away from her envied marriage to billionaire Frederick Simmons. After discovering an invalid marriage certificate and a photo of her adoptive sister, Agatha, the painful truth unravels. When a leaked audio recording exposes Frederick admitting he secretly married Agatha and views his wife as a mere stand-in, Ms. Dickerson coordinates her silent resignation. With seven days left, she prepares to leave his life forever.
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Chapter 6

The test results finally came back. The doctor's hesitant expression made my blood run cold.

They'd found a tumor. Aunt Harriet needed surgery immediately. The success rate was high, but the cost was staggering.

She must have known for a while. She hadn't wanted to burden me, and that was why she'd let it go this long.

I agreed without a second thought. But when I tried to swipe my card, the system flagged it for verification. I had no choice but to call Frederick and explain the situation.

"Don't waste the money. You just hurt Agatha. Getting her treated is more important right now." He hung up.

I was frantic. I scrolled through every contact on my phone, and in the end, I called Joseph.

He didn't ask questions. He wired several million dollars and told me to spend whatever I needed. I thanked him over and over, then worked with the doctor to schedule the surgery right away.

Meanwhile, Agatha was staring at her reddened cheek in a mirror, grinding her teeth with rage. Frederick rushed to soothe her. "It's all Libby's fault. Don't be upset, Agatha. Here, take this new black card. Buy whatever you want."

Agatha took the card and finally stopped crying, though the fury still simmered beneath the surface.

"She loves that old woman so much she'd beg and borrow just to pay for surgery," Frederick mused, a cruel smile playing at his lips. "Imagine how devastated she'd be if the surgery failed."

He called the hospital shortly after and made all the arrangements.

The next morning, Aunt Harriet was wheeled into the operating room. I waited outside, watching the clock. A procedure that should have taken two hours stretched to four.

When the medical staff finally emerged, they brought only one piece of news: Aunt Harriet was dead.

My entire body shook. "The success rate was practically guaranteed. How could it fail? Why did it take so long?"

The attending physician stammered, unable to form a coherent sentence. It was a young nurse beside him who spoke up. "Mr. Simmons said it was just a minor procedure, so only an intern was assigned. The chief surgeon was called away hours ago to attend to Miss Dickerson..."

The nurse and the intern stood there with sweat beading on their foreheads. It had been their very first surgery. The outcome was inevitable.

The blow shattered something inside me. My body went ice-cold. Nausea surged up my throat until I was doubled over, dry-heaving. It felt like plummeting into a bottomless abyss. The two of them had done something so unconscionably evil, and Aunt Harriet had paid the price.

I clenched my fists so hard my nails bit into my palms, then slammed them against the wall again and again until my strength gave out and I collapsed to the floor. Aunt Harriet's knitted cap was clutched in my hands, soaked through with tears.

The intern rushed to help me up. "Before the anesthesia, the patient kept calling your name. She wanted you to take care of yourself and get some rest."

I wiped my eyes and forced myself to hold it together. The surgical light went dark. They wheeled her out. I threw my arms around Aunt Harriet's cold body and held on. The one person in this world who had truly loved me was gone forever.

I handled the funeral alone. Sorting through her belongings, the cremation, arranging the headstone. I hadn't closed my eyes in over twenty-four hours.

Hardly anyone came. I called my parents to let them know, but they hung up before I could finish.

"She only ever cared about you, didn't she? Then you can mourn her by yourself."

They couldn't have cared less. All they told me was to hurry up and come home for a family gathering to celebrate Agatha's pregnancy.

I hated them down to the marrow of my bones. I swore silently over that grave that I would get justice for Aunt Harriet and make every last one of them pay. The family gathering would be the perfect opportunity to drag their filth into the light and turn them against each other.

I nodded obediently, playing the dutiful daughter. But the plan was already taking shape in my mind.

I stood before Aunt Harriet's headstone for a long time, saying nothing. A fine rain began to fall. Frederick appeared beside me, holding an umbrella over my head. "Libby, my condolences. Given your aunt's condition, maybe passing on was a mercy."

I let out a quiet, bitter laugh. "For me, leaving would be a mercy too."

Frederick didn't understand what I meant. He moved to lay flowers at the grave, but Agatha's voice cut in from a distance.

"Are we done yet? When are we leaving?" Impatience was written all over her face. She'd shown up to the funeral, but inside, she was happier than anyone.

"Go ahead without me. I want to be alone." I pushed Frederick away and let the rain soak through me.

After the funeral, I called Joseph to thank him, and to ask for one more favor.

"Of course. You never have to be polite with me."

"I've already made the introductions here. Whenever you're ready, there's a seat on the board waiting for you."

He sent over a series of documents. I looked them over and nodded, satisfied.

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