My Fiancé Faked His Death, So I Did the Same

Wendel froze, seemingly startled by the intensity in my gaze.

But at that moment, Ivy grabbed his hand and pulled him away.

"Ryan, please come back to the room with me. I’m feeling unwell."

Wendel seemed to want to say something, but his lips trembled for a while before he finally helped Ivy away.

I lowered my gaze, staring blankly for a long while until a message from my brother popped up on my phone.

[The plane has landed.]

Taking a deep breath, I got up, and placed the letter I had prepared earlier into the drawer of the bedside table.

I wanted Wendel to find this letter after he heard of my death. I wanted him to open his eyes and see clearly the love I had for him, a love strong enough to follow him through life and death.

I wanted him to live each day in guilt, to feel that his life was worse than death.

After doing this, I didn’t pack anything else. I just took my ID and bank card, then walked out of the door. However, I happened to run into Wendel, who was coming out of Ivy’s room.

Upon seeing me, his expression hesitated for a moment, but he still spoke softly.

"I’m sorry, Aileen, I got a little worked up just now. I didn’t mean to yell at you, but you shouldn’t treat your sister-in-law like that..."

I couldn’t be bothered to listen, so I raised my hand, cutting him off. "I want to go out for a walk. Brother-in-law, you should just stay home and keep my sister-in-law company."

I deliberately emphasized the words "brother-in-law" and "sister-in-law."

But Wendel didn’t seem to notice the shift in my tone. Instead, he seemed to let out a sigh of relief.

"Going out for a walk is good. Get some fresh air, it’ll help your mood. Come back soon, and I’ll have the maid prepare some of your favorite dishes."

I nodded, but the moment I brushed past him, I shot him a cold look.

Wendel, an eye for an eye.

Since you like faking your death so much, then take this gift I’ve prepared for you—and cherish it.

At this point, I didn’t doubt that Wendel had loved me, and maybe he still did.

After all, six years wasn’t something that could easily be faked. His eyes didn’t lie, nor did the kindness he once showed me.

But that didn’t change the fact that he sought thrills and excitement with another woman, whispered sweet words in her ear, and exerted himself on her bed.

He even faked his death to avoid marrying me—just to spend “six months” with that woman.

I didn’t care how they met or how they got together. The outcome was the same, and the process no longer mattered.

An hour later, I was on the plane my brother had sent for me, resting with my eyes closed, completely unaware of the chaos unfolding at the Fleming household.

—

After Aileen left to clear her mind, Wendel and Ivy, alone in the house, became more brazen.

As they were indulging in their passionate affair in the bedroom, one of the few trusted confidants who knew the truth about Wendel’s faked death frantically knocked on the door.

The interruption irritated Wendel. He grabbed a pillow and angrily hurled it at the door.

"Get lost!"

But the knocking didn’t stop, and only grew more urgent.

Wendel ruffled his hair and pulled open the bedroom door.

"You better have something important to say!"

When he saw it was his secretary, Jerry, Wendel’s pupils constricted, and his voice lowered instinctively.

"What are you doing here? In Aileen’s eyes, you’re my brother’s secretary. How could you come to my house? Are you crazy?"

Before Wendel could finish speaking, Jerry interrupted him, his voice trembling.

"Madam... Madam boarded the private plane, which had severe malfunctions. Just now, the plane crashed and fell into the sea..."