Inside my coffin at my own funeral, I was poisoned and paralyzed while my husband declared me dead—unaware I could still hear every word and expose his betrayal from within.

did not sit.

She looked at my coffin, and for one terrifying second I wondered if the retinal command had failed.

Then the cathedral speakers crackled to life.

Static hissed over the altar.

Julian’s own whisper filled the sacred air:

“Enjoy being buried alive tonight, you rich old witch. I’m going to take your fortune and fly my lover to Ibiza.”

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