Gone Gray: My Husband After My Fake Death

As I answered the call, I accidentally put it on speaker. The staff member's voice carried through the room.

"Ms. Granger, everything is ready. We're just waiting for your signature. Once that's done, you'll be free to leave without any worries."

James stopped mid-step and turned back, grabbing my hand. "Leave? What do you mean by that? Darling, you're leaving?"

I smiled. "Don't overthink it. My best friend is going abroad. I'm just helping her handle some paperwork."

Hearing that, James let out a sigh of relief. He gave me a long, unreadable look, and after a moment of hesitation, he still chose Cassandra over me.

The truth was, if James had asked more questions or even glanced at my phone, he would have seen that I wasn't handling any travel documents at all.

Unfortunately, he did neither, which was fine by me. That way, I could leave without a single burden.

After they left, I took a car to the fake death service center.

When I saw the silicone body, crafted to mirror me exactly down to the skin texture and most minor details, I couldn't help but be impressed by their skill.

While I was still staring, a staff member handed me a contract. "Ms. Granger, we've booked your flight to Milanos and wiped all your identity records. The replacement is ready. On the day you chose, we'll make it fall from the banquet hall rooftop exactly as instructed.

"From that moment, Elsa Granger will no longer exist—only Faith Winslow. Sign here if you're ready."

Faith Winslow was the name I chose for myself, symbolizing self-redemption and the hope of finally shining like a star on my own.

Just then, Cassandra posted an update on her social feed. "All it took was me saying I wanted it, and he got it for me."

The photo displayed the very gown James had insisted was long gone.

I smiled coldly and signed the contract immediately.

…

Before long, our fifth wedding anniversary arrived.

James and I were going through the motions of the ceremony when he suddenly clutched his stomach and left midway, claiming he felt unwell.

The next second, Cassandra sent me a message. "Come to the changing room."

Since I was leaving anyway, there was nothing left to worry about. I went.

Through the narrow gap in the door, I saw Cassandra wearing my gown, kissing James as if no one else existed.

"These past few years, you've really suffered for my happiness," she said softly.

James's ears flushed red. "As long as it's something you want, I'll give it to you."

I watched coldly, taking out my phone to record everything in silence.

After saving the video, I checked the time. My flight was coming up soon. I changed out of the gown and handed it to the fake death staff so they could dress the body.

Then I took a taxi home, placed the prewritten suicide note, the divorce papers, and the printed screenshots of Cassandra's taunting messages neatly on the table.

When everything was done, I grabbed my luggage and left without looking back.

The moment I arrived at the airport, news of my "death" hit the headlines.

In the footage, James's face turned ashen the moment I fell.

I let out a cold laugh, switched off my phone, and boarded the plane.

From now on, there was no Elsa, only Faith. This time, I would be my own salvation.

"James, I hope our paths never cross again."