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My Villainy Starts With a Coffin Novel Cover

My Villainy Starts With a Coffin

During her grandfather-in-law's funeral, a woman discovers her husband and best friend have vanished. A mysterious live chat window appears, revealing they are hiding together inside Shawn Whitaker's coffin. Enraged by the chat's cheers for their betrayal, she ignores her sister-in-law's excuses. Realizing they left a gap for air, she slams the lid shut and sits on it, trapping the pair inside for an hour. Now, the audience watches in horror as her cold revenge begins.
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Chapter 1

My husband and my best friend had seemingly vanished during my grandfather-in-law's funeral. As I searched for them, I passed Shawn Whitaker's coffin and suddenly saw a live chat window flash into view:

[Oh goodie, we're finally dealing with a male lead with a 200 IQ! He dragged Best Girl straight into the coffin before that bitch could find out!]

[Aww, he's comforting Best Girl because she's scared of the dark! Aaaaahhhhh!]

[That annoying extra is still outside looking for Vincent. She's so dumb, oh my god. I'm right here cheering for Best Boy to cheat with Best Girl because I swear that bitch exists just to get in their way!]

Fury surged through me. I moved to flip the coffin lid open, but Jasmine grabbed my arm. "Wait! He can't possibly be in there. I think he went to buy Grandpa coffin nails."

[Get yourself a little sister who helps you find happiness like Jazzy, chat.]

[And now, in the warm, cramped, humid darkness, two bodies collide and sparks fly. This is metal as hell.]

[It's also dangerous as hell. I'm just glad our guy was smart enough to leave a crack for air.]

I smirked. Oh, was he?

I slammed the lid shut, dragged a nearby lounge chair over, and settled into it.

"We've got an hour before the funeral begins, don't we? I think I'll keep Grandpa company."

The audience was stunned. [An hour?! They're going to die in there!]

Jasmine was horrified. "What was that, Aya?!"

"What was what?" I retorted calmly. "The cover wasn't shut tightly for some reason. We can't leave even the slightest crack open, Jazzy. Flies could get into Grandpa."

Jasmine was tongue-tied. She stared at the coffin in a panic and tried another approach. "Look, Mom needs you to check our procedure again. The priest seems to have found some problems or something. Can you please go and see what that's about?"

I crossed my arms. "I distinctly remember having checked the procedure three times with the priest yesterday."

"No, no! That's not enough!" she snapped impatiently. "God, can you please possess a little self-awareness for once? You're supposed to be helping your husband's family, damn it!"

She was right about one thing. I had helped them since their grandfather died three days ago. I had less than ten hours of sleep in all three days. The Whitakers had put all of their effort inviting the city's biggest elites to the grand funeral while I was the only one planning and executing the entire thing.

[Never underestimate Jazzy! Girl's got 200 IQ points too!]

[He can't get out of there as long as that bitch's still there! Gah, can she just fuck off already?! Best Girl's running out of breath!]

[Jazzy's done it. Now we watch Aya do whatever she can to please her. Jazzy has trained her like a pup!]

I balled my hands into fists.

I had been married to Vincent Whitaker for five whole years. I cooked. I cleaned. I learned to make his favorite soup in exacting details, down to the perfect temperature like I was some sort of soup engineer.

I remembered the birthdays of my in-laws. It did not matter if it was my mother-in-law's, my sister-in-law's, my aunts-in-law, or any relative who was either born or made a Whitaker. I remembered their likes and dislikes, their yums and yucks, and never once gave a gift they could refuse.

I did all I could to be the best wife and in-law any family could have asked for. And yet, for some reasons, Jasmine never warmed up to me. She always took Stephanie's—my so-called best friend—hand during family gatherings and loudly said things like, "Oh my god, you're starting a studio of your own? That's so fun! I wish some people could be a little more interesting and ambitious too!

"I wish you were my sister-in-law, Stephie. You're beautiful, elegant, talented, and kind. You're perfect!"

All I could do was to smile glumly to myself whenever this happened.

Well, not anymore. That life ends today.

"Aya Burton!"

I reeled. Calling me by my maiden name? That was the first sign. She always referred to me as that whenever she wanted me to acquiesce. I always did.

"The priest is waiting for you!" Jasmine snarled. "We need to make sure the procedures are right, Aya. Do you hear me? Everything has to be perfect! You can't afford for it to be anything less. Mark my words!"

[She's going for another critical hit! Lying to save two lives, go!]

[Stephie, please just hold on! Jazzy is coming to rescue you!]

[Can't Aya Bitch-ton just drop dead and die already?! Her existence literally improves *nothing!*]

"Jazzy. The priest and I had already discussed the details of Grandpa's funeral, including the passage that would be inscribed on his gravestone. Then he explained it to the entire family, and Mom gave him the green light. There's literally nothing else to be done about that," I replied matter-of-factly.

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