And in the front, dressed in an elegant black dress with a veil covering her face, was Monica. She played her part perfectly. Desmond watched as she walked slowly to his casket.
Empty of course since there was no body. She placed her hand on it and her shoulders shook like she was crying. People around her whispered comforting words.
They touched her shoulder. They told her how sorry they were. Grace stood beside Monica supporting her.
But every few minutes Grace would glance at the hidden camera, and Desmond knew she was thinking of him watching all this. The pastor spoke about Desmond’s life. About how he had built his business from nothing.
About how he had been generous and kind. About how he had loved his wife deeply. That last part made Desmond’s chest hurt.
He had loved Monica deeply. That was true. But she had never loved him back.
Not really. After the service, people lined up to offer Monica their condolences. She shook every hand.
She accepted every hug. She cried gentle tears that she wiped away with a black handkerchief. She was magnificent.
If Desmond didn’t know the truth, even he would have believed she was heartbroken. But then Desmond noticed something. A man in the crowd.
Tall handsome wearing an expensive suit. He had dark hair slicked back and a confident smile that didn’t quite fit the sad occasion. The man approached Monica and when he did, something changed in her body language.
She stood up straighter. Her fake tears stopped for just a moment. Mrs. Adams, the man said taking her hand.
I’m so sorry for your loss. Desmond was a good man. Thank you, Monica said softly.
But Desmond saw it, the way her fingers squeezed the man’s hand just a little longer than necessary. This was Elijah. Had to be.
Desmond leaned closer to his phone screen studying the man. Elijah Morrison. The man his wife loved.
The man she had planned to steal everything with. He looked successful. Charming.
The kind of man who knew he was handsome. And the way he looked at Monica, even here at a funeral surrounded by people, there was something hungry in his eyes. After Elijah walked away Monica watched him go.
Just for a second, a small smile appeared on her lips before she caught herself and put her sad mask back on. Desmond felt sick to his stomach. The funeral ended.
People slowly left. Monica climbed into a black car with Grace heading back to the mansion. Desmond switched to the mansion cameras and waited for them to arrive.
The mask comes off. Monica and Grace arrived at the mansion an hour later. Several people had come back to the house for a small gathering, something traditional after funerals.
The house was filled with quiet conversations. People ate small sandwiches and drank coffee. They shared memories of Desmond.
They told Monica how strong she was being. Monica played her role beautifully, moving from group to group, thanking everyone for coming, dabbing at her eyes with tissues. But Desmond noticed something.
Every few minutes Monica would check her phone. She would type something quickly, then put it away with a small smile before anyone noticed. The gathering lasted for three hours.
Finally the last person left. Grace stayed behind helping Monica clean up. You should rest, Grace told Monica.
You’ve had a long day. You’re right, Monica said with a tired smile. Thank you for everything Grace.
I don’t know what I would do without you. Grace hugged her. That’s what family is for.
Call me if you need anything. After Grace left, Monica stood at the door for a moment, making sure she was really gone. Then she closed the door locked it and against it with a huge sigh.
Through the camera, Desmond watched his wife’s face transform. The sadness melted away. The tiredness disappeared.
Instead Monica’s face lit up with excitement and relief. She kicked off her black high heels and actually danced, yes danced, across the living room floor in her funeral dress. Finally, she said out loud to the empty house.
Finally they’re all gone. She grabbed her phone and immediately called someone. From her first words, Desmond knew it was Elijah.
Baby, everyone just left. Oh my god, that was exhausting. Monica flopped onto the expensive leather couch, the same couch where she and Desmond used to watch movies together.
She listened for a moment then laughed. I know, I saw you there. You looked so handsome in that suit.
I wanted to kiss you right there in front of everyone. Desmond’s hands clenched into fists. The performance? Monica continued.
Oh, I think I deserve an award. You should have seen me crying. Even I almost believed myself.
She laughed again, clearly proud of her acting. When can you come over? Monica asked, her voice turning sweeter. I miss you.
This house is so big and empty now. Well, it’s always been empty. Desmond was barely here anyway.
Always working, always busy. Never paying attention to me. That wasn’t true.
Desmond had always made time for Monica. He had taken her on vacations, bought her gifts, tried to make her happy. But apparently none of that mattered.
Tomorrow night? Monica said. Yes perfect. Grace won’t come by that soon.
She’ll think I need space to grieve. She rolled her eyes. Grieve? As if.
She was quiet for a moment listening. The money? Yes I’ve been looking into it. There’s a lot Elijah.
More than we even thought. 50 million in liquid cash and investments. Plus the mansion is worth at least 20 million.
The cars, the jewelry, the company shares. Baby we’re going to be richer than we ever dreamed. She paused again.
His lawyer said something about the wool being frozen for 60 days. Some weird clause Desmond added recently. But that’s fine.
It just means we have to wait a little bit. 60 days is nothing compared to the 7 years I’ve spent playing the loving wife. 7 years.
Their entire marriage. All of it had been fake for her. Desmond felt tears running down his face again, but he didn’t wipe them away.
He just kept watching. I love you too, Monica said sweetly. See you tomorrow night.
Wear that cologne I like. She made a kissing sound into the phone and hung up. Then Monica stood up, stretched like a cat and walked to the bar.
She poured herself a large glass of champagne, the expensive kind that Desmond had been saving for a special occasion. She raised the glass to the air. To freedom, she said to herself.
To money. And to the end of the most boring marriage in history. She drank the entire glass in one go.
Then she went upstairs to the bedroom, their bedroom and started going through Desmond’s things. She pulled out his expensive watches and laid them on the bed. She opened his closet and ran her hands over his suits.
I can sell these, she muttered to herself. Rich people love buying dead people’s things. I’ll say it’s too painful to keep them.
She laughed at her own cleverness. Desmond couldn’t watch anymore. He closed the app and threw his phone onto the couch.
He sat there in the dark apartment feeling completely hollow inside. This was worse than he had imagined. Monica wasn’t just indifferent to his death.
She wasn’t just relieved. She was celebrating. She was treating his death, like winning the lottery.
And tomorrow night she was bringing Elijah, her lover, into their home. Into their bedroom. Desmond’s phone buzzed.
It was a text from Grace. Are you okay? I know today was hard. He texted back.
I saw everything. She called Elijah right after you left. They’re meeting tomorrow night.
Grace replied immediately. Do you want me to stop this? I can go back there, stay with her, prevent? No, Desmond typed. Let it happen.
I need to see everything. I need evidence of everything she does. The more she reveals, the stronger our case will be.
Okay. But please take care of yourself. This can’t be easy to watch.
It’s not. But I have to see the truth. All of it.
Desmond put down his phone and walked to the window. Outside the city lights sparkled like stars. Somewhere out there, in his mansion on the hill, his wife was planning her future with another man.
A future built on his death. But Monica had made one big mistake. She thought Desmond was gone.
She thought she was safe to do whatever she wanted. She had no idea that he was watching. Recording.
Gathering evidence. Soon, very soon, Desmond would come back from the dead. And when he did, Monica’s whole world would come crashing down.
Sunday evening came slowly. Desmond had barely slept. He kept thinking about what he would see tonight.
His wife and another man. In his house. In his bed.
Part of him wanted to stop watching. Part of him wanted to just walk away from all of this and start a new life somewhere else. But he couldn’t.
He needed to see the truth. All of it. At seven o’clock, Desmond opened the camera app on his phone.
Monica was in the master bedroom getting ready. She had showered and was now standing in front of the mirror in a red silk robe. The one Desmond had bought her for their fifth anniversary.
She was putting on makeup. Not the simple, natural kind she usually wore. This was different.
Darker lipstick. More eye shadow. She was making herself beautiful for someone else.
Desmond’s heart ached but he kept watching. Monica sprayed perfume on her neck and wrists. Then she went to the closet and pulled out a black dress.
Tight, elegant and revealing. She had never worn it for Desmond. He didn’t even know she owned it.
At exactly eight o’clock the doorbell rang. Monica’s face lit up with excitement. She practically ran down the stairs, her high heels clicking on the marble floor.
She opened the door and there he was. Elijah Morrison. He was tall, taller than Desmond, with broad shoulders and a confident smile.
He wore expensive clothes and held a bottle of wine in one hand and flowers in the other. Hello beautiful, Elijah said smoothly. Monica didn’t even respond with words…
