Hayley Spencer Novel My Fake Death His Real Hell

Everyone believed Spencer loved me to death.

Little did they know, for four years he hid another woman in a private hospital suite. His business trips were nights in her arms.

Now, I couldn't wait to see his face when he got the news. News of my death... on our wedding day.

Hayley POV

"Ms. Hayley, your Digital Ghost Protocol is activated. The execution date is set on the day of your wedding with Mr. Spencer. We stage an accident and erase you. Please authorize with an iris scan here."

I leaned into the scanner. A cold red light swept over my pupils. On the screen, my digital signature instantly appeared.

I left the unmarked building and vanished into the crowd.

At a newsstand, a magazine cover stopped me cold: Spencer and me. The headline screamed: BILLIONAIRE HEIR: A DECADE OF DEVOTION, ALL FOR HAYLEY.

I remembered that photo. It was taken after Spencer successfully proposed. He knelt on a mountaintop covered in white tulips, his hands, usually so steady, trembled uncontrollably as he placed the ring on my finger. When I said yes, tears streamed down his face.

Beside me, two girls at the bus stop were huddled over the magazine.

"Oh my god, the way Spencer looks at Hayley, it's absolutely melting!"

"I know," the other said. " Did you hear about when she got hurt climbing? The blood bank was empty, so Mr. Spencer chartered a private jet to Europe for blood.He stayed by the ICU door for three days. And that observatory Spencer built for Hayley? It's still one of the hottest dating spots around! This isn't a romance novel. It's better!"

I looked away, a ghost of a smile touching my lips.

Everyone believed Spencer loved me to death.

So, no one would believe it. For four entire years, he'd hidden another woman in a private hospital's VIP suite.

I discovered the truth. Those countless "business trips" were nights spent in her arms. The betrayal didn't crush me all at once. It was a slow freeze, my heart fracturing into a thousand cold, silent pieces.

I opened the encrypted cloud drive, filled with that woman's diaries and recordings.

Closing my eyes, my thoughts drifted back. Back then, my family had just gone bankrupt, and relatives were all scrambling to get a piece of the pie.

It was Spencer who directly called in his legal team. He signed the guardianship transfer agreement for me. His voice wasn't loud, but every word carried immense weight. "From now on, her problems are my problems. I am responsible for her future."

From that day on, he gave me the world.

He'd drank until he was hospitalized in my stead. He knew all my food allergies. His social media was practically a shrine dedicated to me. To everyone, he was "Hayley's Knight."

When he proposed, he kissed my hand, his voice hoarse, pleading, saying he only wanted me for the rest of his long life, and if I left, he would completely lose control.

He was the one who first said he couldn't live without me, and he was also the one who betrayed me first.

So be it. I would give him a staged death. I would make sure he could never find any trace of me, ever again.

A black Bentley glided silently to my side. The car door opened, revealing Spencer's sharply defined profile.

"Get in." He said concisely.

I got into the car. He didn't ask any questions, just turned up the heat a few degrees and handed me his still-warm coffee.

"Your hands are freezing. Aren't you afraid of catching a cold?" His voice held a hint of concern.

Spencer squeezed my hand, then pulled me into his embrace, trying to warm me with his body heat.

"You're so cold... And you didn't even dress warmly. Are you trying to break my heart?"

I said nothing, just looked up at him.

The concern in his eyes was so genuine, so flawless. And precisely because of that, I found it even more chilling.

Just then, a financial reporter with a camera hurried over, eyes gleaming, peering in through the window.

"Mr. Spencer, Ms. Hayley! I'm a reporter from the Capital Frontier. It's such a thrill to meet you both! Your love story inspires so many people. Could you spare a minute for a photo?"

I initially wanted to refuse, but after a moment's hesitation, I nodded.

Spencer, who usually disliked cameras, still obediently pulled me closer and smiled for the lens.

After the photo, the reporter thanked us, her face flushed, her words full of blessings. She wished us a fairytale ending, living happily ever after.

Happily ever after?

I turned my head to look at Spencer. He happened to be looking down at me too, his eyes filled with a tenderness that could drown a person.

As if he, too, believed in this fairytale ending.

Only I knew, our road had reached its end.



Hayley POV

The wedding reception was to be held on a private island Spencer had bought specifically for me.

As soon as we landed, the wedding planning director and her team greeted us, their voices respectful and envious.

"Ms. Hayley, as Mr. Spencer instructed, we've prepared a thousand varieties of Dutch tulips, air-freighted here for your selection. Would you like to visit the flower house now?"

I didn't speak, my gaze sweeping past everyone to Spencer, who stood a short distance away.

He was looking down at his phone, his eyes filled with that raw, undisguised desire. I'd only ever seen that look in his eyes when he viewed photos attached to that woman's audio diaries.

Noticing my gaze, Spencer immediately put away his phone and hurried over, his face etched with apology. "Hayley, there's a glitch at the company. A document needs my immediate signature in person. It can't wait; I have to leave right away."

With that, he pressed a kiss to my forehead and rushed towards another helicopter, which was already preparing for takeoff, leaving me alone on this island that was meant for me.

The planning director cautiously stepped forward. "Ms. Hayley, shall we-"

I cut him off with a shake of my head.

"No need. I don't want any of this."