My Fiancé Faked His Death, So I Married His Uncle

The day before our wedding, Jason Jagger died in a car accident.

Everyone thought I would lose it, that I would break down completely. But I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. I didn’t beg the universe to bring him back.

Five years later, I ran into him at a hotel. Alive. Breathing. Smiling like nothing had ever happened.

Apparently, he had lost his memory. And apparently, that meant he could shamelessly kiss my stepsister in front of a crowd, letting them cheer him on like some kind of movie star.

Then he saw me. His smirk widened like he had just won some twisted game.

"So, you’re my fiancée, huh? Still waiting for me after all these years? Damn, you really are something. Can’t move on without me?"

He tilted his head, amusement flickering in his eyes. "I know you’re obsessed with me. Since you’ve been so loyal, I guess I could keep you around.

“But listen up, Yolanda is the only one who gets to be Mrs. Jagger. I’ll spend Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays with her and I’ll see you on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays. You can just... be grateful in silence."

The people around us laughed like it was the funniest thing they had ever heard. I laughed too. But for a very different reason.

"Sorry," I said, shaking my head. "I think you’ve got the wrong person."

Jason had no idea what really happened the night of his 'death.' He had no clue that while he and Yolanda were living it up for five years, I had moved on.

I had married someone else. And my husband? Well, he just so happened to be Jason’s uncle.

——

I didn’t expect to see Jason again, let alone like this.

He had one arm wrapped around Yolanda’s waist. The two of them were practically tangled together, making out like they were the only ones in the room.

The crowd cheered them on, some people whistling, others yelling things like, "Damn, get a room!"

A few minutes later, Yolanda pulled away, her cheeks flushed. She clung to Jason like her legs might give out. "Okay, okay, I admit defeat," she giggled. "You kiss me like that again and I’ll suffocate."

Jason smirked, fingers ghosting along her cheeks. "Oh? That was too much for you? Funny, didn’t seem like you had a problem with it last night."

The room erupted into laughter. Someone shouted, "Yo, Jason, it's been five years! You really just forgot about Whitney?"

Jason leaned back against the couch, completely unbothered. "Forgot her? Nah. I’m just not done having fun yet. Once the wedding is over, I’ll ‘recover’ my memory. That’s how it works, right?"

More laughter. More jokes.

"Everyone knows Whitney’s been in love with me forever," Jason added, grinning. "I bet the second she saw me alive, she wanted to fall to her knees and beg. Just like she did five years ago when she climbed nine thousand steps, praying for me to survive."

The room roared with amusement. The whole room erupted in laughter, loud enough to shake the damn walls.

"I swear, just picturing Whitney throwing herself at him cracks me up," someone cackled. "That level of shamelessness is unmatched. Not even a dog would be that loyal. I heard she had a rough time abroad these past five years. Without Jason, she could barely survive."

The laughter doubled, filling every corner of the room. I was ready to turn and leave, but before I could, someone spotted me. "Whitney!"

The guy who had been laughing the loudest just seconds ago suddenly looked awkward, scrambling for an excuse. "Jason’s alive. We, uh, didn’t tell you because… well, he lost his memory and had other women around. We figured you wouldn’t be able to handle it."

"Yeah, exactly," another one jumped in. "We all know Jason’s real favorite has always been you, but he doesn’t remember, so if you freak out now, he’ll just think you’re nuts."

Before I could respond, Jason let out a mocking laugh.

"So, you’re the fiancée who was supposedly madly in love with me?" He gave me a slow once-over, his expression twisting with amusement. "Damn. Without me, this is what you’ve been reduced to? You really can’t live without me, huh?"

Same old Jason; cocky, arrogant, acting like the center of the universe. Five years ago, just seeing him would’ve made my heart race. Now, looking at that self-satisfied smirk, all I felt was exhaustion. And disgust.

I had just landed and was still running on jet lag. The only reason I even came to this hotel was because my daughter loved the strawberry mousse here.

But Jason didn’t seem to care that I wasn’t reacting the way he expected. Instead, he smirked, pulled Yolanda close, and, right in front of me, kissed her deep and slow.

When they finally pulled apart, their lips were still wet, connected by a thin, glistening string. Jason turned back to me, looking proud of himself, like he had proven some kind of point.

I just blinked at him.

Chapter 2

"Oh, stop it, you're so annoying," Yolanda giggled, nudging Jason. "My sister is watching."

I pressed my lips together, trying to ignore the wave of discomfort crawling up my spine. Jason saw my reaction, but as always, he completely misread it. His eyes flickered with amusement, like he was enjoying this way too much.

"What, you nervous?" he teased. "You’re gonna be my wife anyway. If she still wants to follow me around, she better learn to deal with it."

Then he turned to me, smirking like he was offering me some grand prize. "Since you’ve been so loyal, I’ll be generous. I’ll keep you around. Yolanda gets Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. I’ll stop by on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays. Sundays? You can come over and serve us."

The people around us burst into laughter, hyping him up like this was some kind of joke instead of the absolute garbage it was.

"See that, Whitney?" someone called out. "Jason lost his memory, but he still loves you enough to save three days a week just for you!"

"Yeah, don’t be stupid," another guy chimed in. "You’ve been a mess these past five years without him. Probably scrubbing toilets just to survive. Take the offer while you still can, if Jason changes his mind, you won’t even get the chance to beg for it later."

Yolanda tightened her grip on Jason’s arm, practically draping herself over him, then gave me this sickeningly sweet smile. "Whitney, I don’t want to do this either, but what can I do? Jason only loves me now. Guess you’ll just have to settle for being the woman in the shadows."

Jason let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "Please. She wouldn’t survive without me."

Something sharp twisted in my chest.

Five years ago, in that car accident, Jason had thrown himself over me, shielding me with his own body. He had been barely conscious, his fingers squeezing mine as he whispered over and over, "Don’t be scared. I have luck on my side, I won’t die. I’ll always be your guardian angel. No one will ever hurt you."

Could someone who had once loved me so deeply really change this much? Could amnesia turn him into... this?

I swallowed down the bitterness rising in my throat, took a deep breath and forced a smile.

"Sorry," I said, my voice calm. " I think you’ve got the wrong person."

Then, without breaking eye contact, I lifted my hand, flashing the ring on my finger. "Besides, I’m already married."

For a second, the whole room went silent. Then laughter erupted, loud and mocking.

Jason raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Married? To who? A garbage man? A street sweeper?" He scoffed. "Come on, Whitney. Do you actually think I’d be jealous? Do you hear yourself?"

Before I could react, his hand shot out, grabbing my wrist. Then, with one quick pull, he yanked the ring right off my finger.

I winced as Jason yanked the ring off my finger, the sting shooting up my wrist. I was about to say something when Yolanda suddenly burst out laughing.

"Jason, isn't this the 'Only Love in This Life' ring?" she grinned, eyes sparkling with amusement. "The one your uncle bought in Atessa for 600 million dollars five years ago?"

She turned to me, tilting her head like she had just caught me in some elaborate lie. "Whitney, don't tell me you're about to claim that you married his uncle and became his aunt?"

The second those words left her mouth, the entire room exploded into laughter.

"You've gotta be kidding me," someone scoffed. "Whitney, seriously? You expect us to believe you're the wife Colton has been hiding all these years?"

Colton Jagger. Jason’s uncle. The man who ran the entire Jagger Family. He was only five years older than Jason, but people spoke about him with nothing but respect.

Not only was he insanely rich and stupidly good-looking, but he was also known for being completely devoted to his wife. Five years of marriage and no one had even seen her or their daughter. He kept them out of the public eye, far away from any scrutiny.

"Whitney, you really wanna keep up this little fantasy?" A guy picked up the ring, turning it between his fingers. "Gotta say, it’s a damn good fake. Must’ve cost a fortune. You really went all out trying to impress Jason, huh?"

More laughter. More taunts. The room felt suffocating. I exhaled slowly, keeping my voice steady. "I didn't fake it. This ring is real—"

Before I could finish, a hand flew across my face.

The slap was so sudden, so forceful, that my head snapped to the side. A sharp, burning pain spread across my cheek and for a second, my ears rang.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Jason’s voice was full of rage, his jaw clenched tight. "Why did you involve my uncle?"

His words were rapid, heated, filled with pure disgust.

"Everyone knows my uncle worships the ground his wife walks on. You really think he’d take one look at you—a used-up, second-hand reject I didn’t even want—and think, 'Yeah, that’s the one'?" He scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Even if you don’t have a damn mirror, at least know your damn place," he sneered. "I can't stand women like you. Jealous, desperate, lying through your teeth just to get attention."

His lip curled as he looked me up and down, like he couldn’t believe he had ever been with me. "I must’ve been fucking blind to ever want you."

Chapter 3

I pressed a hand to my burning cheek, slowly turning my head. My face stung, but I didn’t react. I didn’t cry, didn’t flinch.

Jason, however, looked away. Just for a second. Like he had seen something in my expression that made him uncomfortable.

But Yolanda wasn’t about to let it go.

"Whitney," she scoffed, crossing her arms. "Jason lost his memory and he’s still willing to let you be his mistress. You should be grateful. But instead, you're trying to ruin him?

“You know how much Connor loves his wife and yet you have the nerve to pretend to be Jason’s aunt? You’re literally dragging him down with you. You’re selfish and cruel!"

Her words barely registered. Yolanda had been ruining my life for as long as I could remember.

She was my stepfather’s daughter. On the seventh day after my father died, while we were still mourning in the funeral hall, my mother grabbed me by the back of the head and forced me to bow, forcing me to accept Yolanda as my ‘sister.’

She was like a ghost, always lurking, always watching, never allowing me to have anything for myself.

If she could take something from me, she did. If she couldn’t, she made sure no one else could have it either.

Five years ago, Jason had been my shield, standing in front of me like some untouchable force. Back then, he had looked at her with nothing but cold disdain, shutting her down without hesitation.

Now?

Now, he stood in front of her, throwing a thick stack of cash at my feet. "Isn’t this what you wanted?" His voice was slow, mocking. "Go ahead. Pick it up."

The edges of the bills were sharp, one of them catching my forehead as it fluttered down. A thin line of blood appeared just above my brow.

I didn’t wipe it away. But I did notice the flicker of hesitation in Jason’s eyes. Then, as if realizing he had slipped, he covered it up with a smirk.

I bent down. He let out a breath, laughing. "There we go. Knew you’d cave—"

I ignored him. I wasn’t reaching for the money. I was picking up the ring that had been thrown into the corner, half-buried under the scattered cash.

When I straightened, Jason’s smirk was gone. His expression darkened, his fingers twitching at his sides.

For the first time that night, he looked… uneasy. Before I could step away, he grabbed my wrist, his grip tight and almost desperate.

"You really won’t let it go, will you?" His voice was low, his teeth clenched. "What, the money on the floor isn’t enough? You still need to hold onto a fake, broken ring?"

I frowned, confused. "Let go."

He didn’t. His grip only tightened. His jaw flexed like he was struggling to hold something back.

"You really don’t get it, do you?" His voice dropped, frustration bleeding into his tone. "Fine. Yolanda and I are getting married in a week. My uncle’s coming home that day too.

"Why don’t you show up?" He leaned in, his voice laced with something sharp. "You can watch the wedding and while you’re at it, let my uncle see for himself what kind of pathetic, shameless garbage I threw away."

When Yolanda heard the word wedding, her whole face lit up. She could barely hide her excitement.

"Whitney, what’s wrong?" she teased, tilting her head. "You’re not scared to come, are you? Afraid of getting exposed?"

I carefully put the ring away, not bothering to look at her as I replied, voice flat. "Alright, I’ll go. Just don’t regret it later."

Then I walked out.

I stopped just outside the door, lingering for a moment. Maybe I just needed a second to breathe. Maybe I was waiting to hear what they would say once they thought I was gone.

Jason’s friend sighed. "Dude, you sure you didn’t take it too far? I don’t know, something about Whitney seemed… off. What if she actually got married?"

Jason let out a sharp laugh. "Yeah, right. She’s just putting on an act."

His tone was full of confidence, like the thought of me moving on was so impossible that it wasn’t even worth considering. "She’s just playing hard to get. Trust me, I know her. This is her way of trying to get my attention."

But after a beat, he went quiet, probably thinking back to the way I had looked at him before I left. How calm I had been. How… unbothered.

Something about it must’ve unsettled him because when he spoke again, his voice had a slight edge.

"Whatever," he muttered. "I’m done playing anyway. After the wedding, I’ll 'get my memory back,' throw in some sad apologies, tell her she’s the only one I ever loved. Watch, she’ll be back at my feet in no time."

The group laughed, shaking their heads.

"Damn, Jason," one of them snickered. "You really got this whole thing figured out, huh?"

Jason grinned, stretching out like he had all the time in the world. "What can I say? One little case of amnesia and I got to live it up for five years. Meanwhile, Whitney spent those five years waiting for me, miserable and alone. No other man. No second chances. Just me."

Yolanda pouted, resting her head on his shoulder. "But Jason, if you get your memory back, what happens to me?"

Jason laughed, pinching her waist. "Relax. It’ll be the same as before. And besides…" He smirked. "Sneaking around is way more fun."

More laughter. More voices blending together in amusement. I didn’t stick around to hear the rest.

I turned and walked straight to the hotel entrance, my chest tight. The second I stepped outside, I took a deep breath, then another, trying to swallow the nausea creeping up my throat.

Jason had no idea. Five years ago, on the night he was supposedly killed in a car accident, I received a video. One I could never forget.

I pulled out my phone, tapped the screen and his voice filled my ears, light, amused, like he was talking about the weather.

"I love Whitney, but man, she’s just so dull. The thought of only having her for the rest of my life? Boring as hell.

"I’ll fake my death, disappear for a few years. When I come back, I’ll say I lost my memory. Oh, and make sure you get plenty of footage of her losing it over me. I can’t wait to see her completely fall apart."

Chapter 4

The day the doctor announced Jason’s death, I did exactly what he would have wanted. I shattered.

The weight of it was so suffocating that I couldn’t even cry. It was like the whole world had collapsed and for a moment, I actually thought about going with him.

But his good friends—the ones who claimed to care so much—held me back, whispering empty reassurances, stopping me from doing something reckless.

I didn’t realize then that a phone was recording my pain from the shadows. I didn’t notice the way they bit their lips, struggling to hold back their laughter as they hid behind masks of false grief.

They weren’t mourning him. They were mocking me. I didn’t know. Not back then. But I do now. I slipped my phone into my pocket and walked away.

From that day on, Jason might have pretended to be dead. But to me? He was already gone.

***

The news of Jason being alive spread like wildfire—announced right alongside his upcoming wedding. That night, Yolanda updated her status.

A breathtaking wedding venue. A custom-made designer gown. Only Love in This Life—the diamond ring Jason had once picked out for me.

Everything in those photos was something he had originally planned for our wedding. Now, he was holding her hand, their fingers intertwined as they posted cringeworthy love notes to each other for the whole world to see.

I barely glanced at it before swiping away. But before I could close the app, a message from Jason popped up. [Jealous yet? I bet you're losing your mind.]

I blocked him without replying.

Seconds later, another message came through. This time from Yolanda. [Saw it all, didn’t you? You’re nothing but a joke to us. Just a pathetic little clown for our entertainment. Only I deserve to be Mrs. Jagger.]

I blocked her too. Not worth my time.

***

A week later, the wedding happened as planned. I had no intention of going. But my daughter, stubborn as ever, wouldn’t stop pestering me about it.

By the time we arrived at the hotel, the ceremony had already reached the ring exchange.

Jason kept glancing at the entrance, brows slightly furrowed, like he was waiting for something. Then his eyes landed on me.

Immediately, his expression relaxed. A smirk played on his lips and when the MC asked if he would take Yolanda as his wife, he hesitated.

Just long enough to be noticed. Just long enough to make Yolanda’s fingers tighten around her bouquet. But whatever reaction he was expecting from me, he didn’t get it. Because I wasn’t watching.

I was off to the side, calmly eating cake like none of this had anything to do with me.

And that pissed him off. His jaw tightened, his shoulders stiffening. The warmth in his expression disappeared in an instant.

Then, out of nowhere, someone shoved me hard. I had no time to react before I crashed into the drinks table beside me.

Glass shattered. The champagne tower—taller than me—collapsed, sending a wave of alcohol and glass shards raining down.

Pain shot through my forehead as my head hit the floor. Blood trickled down my face, blurring my vision, but through the haze, I swore I saw Jason flinch.

For half a second, he moved. Like he was about to step toward me. But before he could, Yolanda rushed past him.

She dropped to her knees, grabbing my arm in a death grip, tears already spilling down her face.

"Whitney!" she cried, her voice loud enough for everyone to hear. "I invited you to my wedding out of kindness and this is how you repay me? I know you’re jealous that Jason only loves me now, but why? Why ruin my happiness? Can’t you stand to see me living a good life?"

Yolanda’s grip was brutal, her nails digging so deep into my skin that a dull numbness spread up my arm.

I clenched my jaw, trying to stay calm, but the sharp sting made my scalp prickle. On instinct, I lifted my hands—just to push her off.

And the second I did, she screamed. Loud. Over-the-top. Completely fake.

Then, like she had been thrown by some invisible force, she flung herself backward, crashing onto the floor with all the grace of a third-rate actress.

I barely had time to react before something slammed into my back.

The force sent me stumbling, my ankle twisting painfully in my heels. A sharp gasp left my lips as the pain shot up my leg, but before I could even regain my balance, a furious voice cut through the air.

Jason.

"Are you serious?" He was practically seething, his eyes burning with rage. "What the hell is wrong with you? I don’t even remember you and yet you still can’t stop throwing yourself at me?"

His words were laced with disgust.

"I have never seen a woman as shameless as you," he sneered. "Apologize. Now. "

For a moment, everything was silent. Then the whispers started.

Most of the guests weren’t even here for Jason, they were here because Colton was supposed to make an appearance. But Jason was still a Jagger and people wanted to be on his good side.

So, naturally, they took his side.

"Geez, have some self-respect," someone muttered. "Jason doesn’t even remember her and she’s still chasing after him like a lost puppy."

"Yeah, and on his wedding day, no less. How desperate can you get?"

"You just couldn’t let your sister have this, huh?" another voice chimed in. "Ruining someone else’s wedding because you lost? That’s pure jealousy. Good thing Jason never married a jinx like her."

Laughter rippled through the crowd, low and mean. I didn’t flinch. I let them talk. But Yolanda? She lived for it.

She curled into Jason’s arms, clinging to him like some helpless victim. Then, just loud enough for everyone to hear, she let out a shaky gasp and pointed at my hand, her eyes wide with mock horror.

"Whitney…" She sounded devastated, but there was a glint of triumph in her eyes. "I told you Uncle Colton would be here today. And yet you still dared to bring that fake 'Only Love in This Life' ring?"

She paused for effect, then widened her eyes even more, like she had just realized something horrifying.

"Wait… could it be…" She pressed a hand to her mouth, gasping. "You say you love Jason, but deep down, you’re actually trying to seduce his uncle?"

The room fell completely silent. And then, chaos.

Chapter 5

The second Yolanda said it, all eyes locked onto the ring on my finger.

Someone in the crowd scoffed loudly.

"You know, I heard a story like this before," they said, voice dripping with amusement. "Some woman showed up in front of Mrs. Jagger, pregnant, claiming the baby was Mr. Jagger’s. And you know what happened? Mrs. Jagger took off ‘Only Love in This Life’ for one day—just one damn day. And the next thing you know, that woman was found in Atessa’s underground market. Collar around her neck."

The room went still. Jason’s expression darkened, the arrogance in his face flickering ever so slightly.

Yolanda leaned into him, voice soft, full of fake concern. "Jason, there are so many people watching," she murmured, pressing a hand to his chest. "Before Uncle Colton finds out, we should handle this quietly."

Jason hesitated for about two seconds. Then, without a word, he reached for a knife from the table.

My stomach dropped. I stepped back, but his friends were already closing in. Blocking every possible way out.

"Jason," I forced out, my voice steady even though my heart was hammering. "If you touch me, Colton will come after you."

Jason didn’t react, but Yolanda let out a small, almost sympathetic sigh.

"Whitney, stop being so stubborn," she said, shaking her head. "You don’t understand how ruthless Uncle Colton is. If he comes for you, it won’t just be your hands. Jason’s at least giving you the easy way out."

Jason stepped forward, gripping the knife tightly. For a split second, there was something almost hesitant in his eyes.

Then he forced a smirk. "I’ll be gentle."

Panic shot through me as strong hands grabbed my arms, pinning me down. I struggled, my breathing sharp and uneven.

"Let go!" I shouted, voice raw. "My husband is Colton!"

The whole room went dead silent. Then, laughter. Mocking, cruel, loud.

Jason squatted down, his face full of amusement, like I had just told the funniest joke in the world.

"Whitney," he sighed, shaking his head. "I get it. You love me so much that you’ll say anything just to get my attention. But this?" He chuckled under his breath. "You don’t have to go that far. Even if you lose your hands, I won’t despise you."

Then, without another second of hesitation, he swung the knife down. A white-hot pain exploded through my body.

The ring, along with my ring finger, dropped to the floor.

My vision blurred, black spots dancing at the edges. The pain was unreal, like my entire body had been set on fire.

Through the haze, I saw her. Yolanda.

She moved fast, grabbing my severed finger off the ground—then, before I could even process what was happening, she tossed it out the window.

When she turned back, her lips curled into a slow, satisfied smile. Jason’s friends shifted uncomfortably. One of them finally spoke up, voice low and uneasy.

"Jason… maybe that’s enough," he muttered. "Be careful, man. If you do get your memory back, this might not end well."

Yolanda’s expression twisted in an instant.

"Jason, don’t listen to him," she cut in, voice urgent. "Uncle Colton will be here any minute. "

Another voice chimed in. "She’s right. Better to let her go with a prosthetic than to lose her life."

Jason clenched his jaw. For the first time all night, he actually looked uncertain. However, his hesitation lasted all of two seconds before his expression hardened again.

Jason’s grip on the knife tightened, his jaw clenching as he looked down at me; curled up, trembling, bleeding.

"Whitney, this is for your own good," he muttered through gritted teeth. "I’ll make it up to you later."

I couldn’t even respond. The pain was unbearable, my body shaking uncontrollably. My vision blurred, my breath shallow. All I could do was let silent tears slip from the corners of my eyes.

The knife gleamed under the light as Jason raised it again. I braced myself.

And then, the ballroom doors slammed open. The entire room went still. The once lively, mocking atmosphere instantly turned ice cold.

Colton Jagger walked in, his presence sucking all the air from the room.