THE WOMAN HE BURIED ALIVE”

Alina woke up to the sound of voices. At first, she thought she was dreaming. The voices were distant, like they were coming from somewhere far away. She tried to open her eyes, but her eyelids felt heavy. Her entire body felt like it had been dragged through a storm. She tried to remember where she was. Nothing came. Only darkness. Only the sound of someone speaking outside the room. “Her funeral is today.” Those words entered her mind slowly. Funeral. The word felt wrong. She frowned. Who was dead? A cold feeling moved through her body. She forced her eyes open. The ceiling above her was unfamiliar. White. Plain. Not the ceiling of her bedroom. Not the one she stared at every morning beside Lucien. Her breathing became uneven. Where was she? She tried to sit up, but pain immediately spread through her body. A sharp pain. She closed her eyes and held her breath. The last thing she remembered came rushing back. The rain. The road. The car. The accident. She remembered the sound of metal crushing. She remembered glass breaking. And she remembered Lucien. Lucien Voss. Her husband. His face was the last thing she saw. He had been holding her hand. His usually calm expression had disappeared. For the first time since she met him, she saw fear in his eyes. “Alina, stay awake.” His voice was shaking. That memory hurt. Because Lucien Voss was not a man who showed fear. People feared him. Businessmen lowered their voices when his name was mentioned. Enemies avoided him. But with her, he had always been different. She remembered his fingers holding hers tightly. “Please, Alina.” Those were his last words before everything went dark. She touched her chest. Her heart was beating. She was alive. Then why did someone say her funeral was today? The fear became stronger. She slowly got off the bed. Her legs almost gave way beneath her. She grabbed the table beside her and waited until her balance returned. The room was small. Too small. A bed. A chair. A table. A locked door. No window. No way out. Her mind started racing. Someone had brought her here. Someone had hidden her. But why? She walked toward the door. Her hands touched the cold metal handle. She tried opening it. Locked. “Hello?” Her voice came out weak. She knocked. “Is anyone there?” Silence. She pressed her ear against the door. The voices came again. A woman spoke. “Are you sure she should know?” A man answered. “She has to.” “She will hate him.” A pause. Then the man replied. “She already hates him.” Alina froze. Him? Who were they talking about? Her fingers tightened. She wanted to hear more. The woman lowered her voice. “What happens if she finds out the truth?” The man answered. “Then we pray she forgives him before it is too late.” Alina stepped back. Forgive who? Lucien? Why was his name not spoken, but somehow she knew they were talking about him? Her mind refused to accept what was happening. She walked around the room, searching for anything that could explain this. Her purse was gone. Her phone was gone. Everything she had before the accident was missing. Except one thing. Her wedding ring. She looked down at it. The diamond reflected the weak light. For some reason, that hurt more than anything. Because it reminded her of him. Lucien. The man she married. The man she trusted. The man she believed would never hurt her. A memory came back. Their wedding day. Everyone had warned her. They said Lucien was cold. They said he had no emotions. They said a man like him did not know how to love. But she had seen something different. When everyone left the room after their wedding ceremony, he had looked at her quietly. “You can still change your mind,” he told her. She had smiled. “Are you asking me to run away from you?” “Yes.” She laughed. “That is the strangest wedding advice I have ever heard.” His eyes softened. “Alina, I am serious.” She had stepped closer. “Then tell me why.” He looked away. “Because being close to me is dangerous.” She remembered what she told him. “I am not afraid of you.” Now she wondered if she should have been. A sound interrupted her thoughts. The lock turned. She quickly stepped away from the door. It opened slowly. A man walked in. Tall. Dark hair. A serious expression. He looked like someone who was always calculating his next move. He closed the door behind him. For a few seconds, neither of them spoke. Then Alina asked, “Who are you?” The man looked at her. “Viktor Kade.” “I do not know you.” “I know.” His answer annoyed her. She crossed her arms. “Where am I?” He did not answer. That made her angry. “I asked you a question.” “You are safe.” “That is not an answer.” “It is the only answer that matters right now.” She stared at him. “Who brought me here?” Viktor remained quiet. That silence told her more than words. Someone had planned this. Someone had hidden her. And he knew who. “Was it Lucien?” The moment she said his name, Viktor’s expression changed slightly. Not much. But she noticed. “Why did you react?” “I did not.” “You did.” He looked away. “Lucien is part of this.” Her heart sank. “What does that mean?” Before he could answer, he walked to the table and placed something on it. A newspaper. “You need to see this.” Alina did not move. “What is it?” “The reason you cannot return.” Her stomach tightened. She slowly walked closer. She picked up the newspaper. The moment she saw the headline, the world stopped. ALINA VOSS, WIFE OF BILLIONAIRE LUCIEN VOSS, DIES IN TRAGIC ACCIDENT She stopped breathing. Her fingers trembled. She read it again. Then again. No. It was impossible. Her eyes moved to the date. Three days ago. Three days. She had been missing for three days. But the world believed she was dead. “This is fake.” Her voice was barely a whisper. Viktor said nothing. “This is fake.” She turned to him. “You made this.” “I did not.” “Then who did?” His silence answered. She looked back at the newspaper. There were pictures. Her picture. A picture of her smiling. A picture of her alive. But the words beneath it called her dead. She turned the page. Then she saw him. Lucien. Standing beside her coffin. The sight crushed her. She expected anger. She expected guilt. She expected to see a man who was pretending. But Lucien looked destroyed. His suit was black. His face was emotionless. But his eyes. His eyes looked empty. Like something inside him had died. Alina stared. A strange pain filled her chest. Because that was not the face of a man celebrating. That was the face of a man who had lost the only thing he cared about. She quickly pushed the thought away. No. She could not think like that. Not after this. Not after seeing herself buried. “He is lying,” she said. Viktor looked at her. “About what?” “Everything.” She pointed at the picture. “He wants everyone to believe he loved me.” “And do you believe that?” She looked at him. “What?” “Do you believe Lucien never loved you?” The question hit too hard. Because she did not know. She wanted to say yes. She wanted to say she hated him. But her heart refused to agree. She remembered the small things. The way he always noticed when she was tired. The way he silently placed coffee beside her every morning. The way he stayed awake whenever she was sick. The way he looked at her when he thought she was not watching. Those memories made her angry. Because if they were real, why was she here? Why was she dead? “What happened to me?” she asked. Viktor looked serious. “The accident was planned.” Her eyes widened. “What?” “Someone wanted you gone.” “Who?” “That is what we are trying to find.” “We?” Viktor ignored the question. “You cannot go back to Lucien.” “Why?” “Because whoever did this will know you survived.” She laughed bitterly. “So I should hide forever?” “No.” “Then what?” “Find the truth.” She stared at him. “And Lucien?” Viktor hesitated. “That is the problem.” “What problem?” “Lucien is not as simple as you think.” Alina’s jaw tightened. “You do not know my husband.” “I know him better than you think.” The words irritated her. She turned away. “I want answers.” Viktor reached into his coat and brought out a file. He placed it on the table. “Then read.” She looked at it. “What is this?” “Everything about your death.” She opened it. The first page was a police report. The second was medical information. The third was a legal document. Her eyes scanned the page. Then she saw the signature. Lucien Voss. Her hands became cold. “No.” She flipped to another page. Another signature. Lucien. Another document. Lucien. Her heart started breaking. “He signed these.” Viktor said nothing. “Why?” No answer. She looked at him. “Why would my husband sign documents about my death?” “I told you.” “Told me what?” “That your husband is hiding secrets.” Her eyes filled with tears. She hated that she wanted to defend him. She hated that part of her still believed there was an explanation. But the evidence was in her hands. Lucien’s name was everywhere. Her husband. The man she trusted. The man she loved. She dropped the papers. “My husband buried me.” The words came out slowly. Viktor looked at her. But before he could respond, she noticed something. A page at the bottom. Not a printed document. A handwritten note. She picked it up. The handwriting was familiar. Very familiar. She knew those letters. She knew the way he wrote. Her heart started beating faster. She read the words. Keep her alive. Her breath caught. She continued. Even if she hates me. The room became silent. Alina stared at the note. Lucien wrote this. Her hands shook. Viktor stepped closer. “What does it say?” She looked up slowly. Her eyes were full of confusion. “My husband…” Her voice broke. “My husband asked someone to keep me alive.” Viktor watched her. And for the first time, Alina felt something worse than anger. Doubt. Because if Lucien wanted her dead… Why did he save her? Why did he let the world believe she was gone? And why did he stand beside her coffin looking like a man who had lost his entire world? Alina looked at the note again. One thought kept repeating in her mind. Maybe the man she hated was not the man who betrayed her. Maybe the truth was much worse. Then Viktor spoke. “There is something else you need to know.” Alina slowly raised her eyes. “What?” Viktor’s expression turned dark. “Your funeral was not the only thing Lucien planned.” A chill ran through her. “What else?” Viktor looked at the door. Then back at her. “He made sure everyone believed you were dead.” A pause. “Because someone was coming to finish the job.” Alina’s heart stopped. “Who?” Before Viktor could answer, the lights suddenly went out. The room became completely dark. And somewhere outside the door... A lock began to turn.