Who Wrote The Mother'S Funeral Fiancee Announcement Scene?

I thought my life was sorted. I have a sweet fiancé Marcus, a cozy apartment and my wedding Pinterest board on lock. As The classic good girl, I saved myself for marriage, never gave anyone trouble and always made safe choices. That was until I met Marcus’ dad Victor. He is tall, suave and deliciously charming. Everything about him turns me on without trying. Just one handshake and my body lit up like fireworks. I panicked and told myself it was hormones. I avoided him like a plague and even gave Marcus my virginity few months to our wedding but it didn’t work. One girls’ night and one weird-tasting drink, I find myself in his bed begging like I’d lost my mind while he ruins me for his son. Now I dream him every night while Marcus snores beside me like nothing’s changed. He has no idea I’m picturing his father when he touches me and that it’s his dad’s name I’m biting back when I come. I tell myself in the mirror every morning:
“Stop! You’re not this person.” But the second we’re in the same room? My willpower cracks. This isn’t cute at all. It’s messy, embarrassing and terrifying.
 The safest choice feels lonelier every day and the dangerous one feels like I’m finally breathing. What am I to do when the person I’m supposed to marry isn’t the one setting my body on fire and the one who is happens to be the last man I’m allowed to want? How long can I keep this affair hidden from Marcus when the wedding is so close and Victor is determined to have not just my body?

My mother-in-law has gotten kidnapped, and yet my husband, Josiah Broadway, decides to celebrate the success of his childhood sweetheart, Vivian Spencer's performance with her. The kidnapper has requested a ten-million-dollar ransom. If he doesn't receive the money in his bank account in an hour, he'll kill the hostage immediately. But my calls to Josiah's phone never go through. When there's only one minute left on the timer, Josiah calls me back calmly. "Since that hag is already that old, she might as well die. I'm not wasting my money on her." Just like that, my mother-in-law is thrown into the sea by the furious kidnapper. The search-and-rescue team has to resort to using long hooks in order to fish her corpse out of the sea. As soon as the body is delivered to the crematorium, Josiah sends me a voice message excitedly. "Have your mom's corpse sent to the studio! Vivian's performance needs a corpse anyway! Using a real corpse will make the whole performance seem more realistic!" I'm pissed off, to say the least. So, that bastard thinks that my mom is the one who died, huh? After that, I have my mother-in-law's corpse, which is completely disfigured from all the fishing and hooking, sent to the studio without any hesitation.

My mother is hospitalized due to a terminal illness. She's in urgent need of a kidney transplant to save her life. I'm the only one who can perform the surgery, but I give the kidney to a stranger. My father and husband get on their knees before me on the day of the surgery. They beg me to save my mother. However, I shrug and say, "I can't do anything about this. A life is a life, regardless of who the person is. This is what she gets for coming late—death is waiting for her."

My marriage to Lucian Hawke was hailed as the most perfect union in the mafia world. As the daughter of the Sinclair family and him being the sole heir of the Hawke family, our marriage united the two most powerful mafia families in the Northeastern. I thought we were unbreakable. Then, I was diagnosed with terminal cancer. As if life couldn’t get any worse, my husband's first love returned—on the very same day. That night, the man I’d been married to for years didn’t come home. The next morning, his voice was cold, distant. Indifferent. “I’ve got the divorce papers ready. When can you come sign them?” I hesitated, struggling to steady my voice. “I’m still at the hospital.” He didn’t even pause. “I don’t care if you're on your deathbed, Elara. Come home and sign the goddamn papers.” My heart shattered, but I refused to let it show. “As you wish, Lucian.” What he didn’t know was that I was dying—literally. A week later, at my funeral, Lucian wearing a tuxedo, weeping at my grave, whispering regrets he should have voiced when I was still breathing. Ironically, my funeral day, was also his wedding day with his sweetheart. But it was too late, my love. This time, you’ll never see me again.

At the engagement party, the champagne tower is only half-built when Marcus Harrison answers a phone call. He glances at me and says, "I have to go. Lily collapsed at the airport." I say, "If you leave, we're done." He leaves anyway, in front of 200 guests. He carries Lily Bardot in his arms, wearing the coat I gave him, as he drives away in my car. The next day, he sends me an email that reads, "Lily will be moving into my apartment. She needs me, and I hope you can understand. Once Lily gets better, we'll get married. Please trust me." I stare at the screen and suddenly laugh. So what he wants isn't someone who loves him. It's someone who needs him. And I'm too independent, so I don't make the cut. That evening, I scroll through my contacts and find a number I've never given a second glance to. It belongs to someone who's been waiting for me for 23 years. I dial it. "Tomorrow night, 7:00 pm. Meet me at the restaurant by the sea."

My dad’s crush came back, and my mom decided to fake her death. “Jane, I’m the main character of a tragic story. If I don’t fake my death now, I’ll end up miserable. “Go tell your dad that Quiana killed me.” In my past life, I had done exactly as she said. My dad had flown into a rage and destroyed the Sullivan family. After that, my mom returned to the land of the living. I thought our family would finally be whole again. Instead, she clung to Dad and cried. “I gave Jane my contact information. How could she say I was dead?” To punish me, my dad locked me in a cold storage room. My mom shot me a cold look. “That’s what you get for calling that woman pretty.” In the cold storage room, at −58°F, I froze to death. When I opened my eyes again, my mom had already faked her death and ran off with her devoted admirer. I looked at my dad and asked with an innocent expression, “Dad, what does eloping mean?”