He Secretly Married My Sister ,So I Faked My Death and Let Him Lose Everything1
"Ms. Dickerson, this is your share transfer agreement. You're certain you want to resign?"
"I am."
The head of HR fixed her with a grave look. "Are you sure you don't want to inform Mr. Simmons? If you resign in secret and he finds out, he will freeze every account tied to you to bring you back."
I sat on the couch in the reception room without a word. I just nodded, hard.
I had decided to leave Simmons Group on our fifth wedding anniversary and walk away from a marriage the whole world envied.
Maybe this marriage had been a lie from the start. The seeds of doubt were planted the day I found the photo of Frederick Simmons and my adoptive sister tucked inside his briefcase.
On stormy nights, no matter how drunk he was, he would coax me to sleep first, then slip out without hesitation—just to comfort a sister who was afraid of thunder.
When I saw the half-stamped seal on our invalid marriage certificate, tears spilled down my face like a broken string of pearls. I drafted my resignation on the spot and booked a flight departing in seven days.
Frederick was away on a last-minute business trip on our anniversary. I stayed behind at the office to handle my departure. Out of nowhere, a voicemail arrived from him—warm, gentle, walking me through his itinerary for the day.
Meanwhile, every billboard screen across the city was cycling through highlights of our life together.
Countless drones spelled out my name in the sky. Rose petals drifted down like snow.
I stared out the window at the spectacle, my chest a tangle of emotions I couldn't name. In the hallway, employees crowded around, snapping photos and gushing.
After a few minutes of silence, a second audio file landed in my inbox—an intimate conversation between two people:
"My parents told me that sister of mine is pregnant. What am I supposed to do? We're the real married couple!"
"Relax, Agatha. So what if she has a kid? She's nothing but your stand-in."
"If you don't want it, I'll take her to the hospital myself whenever you say the word. She does everything I tell her—she really is a loyal little dog…"
What followed was unmistakable. The audio played on speaker, too loud, and every employee in the office went wide-eyed, not daring to breathe.