My Ex, The Lord of the Underworld, Went on a Rampage After I Died Chapter 1

I bought my family’s lives with my divorce.

Three souls—my parents and my brother—spared from damnation in exchange for my freedom from the Lord of the Underworld. I thought we’d live out our days in peace.

I was wrong.

That’s when the real daughter came home.

Sylvia, a gifted psychic, declared that our family’s fortune depended on one thing: a posthumous wedding between me and the ancient spirit, Old Man Hemlock.

My parents and brother, mesmerized by her promises, turned on me. They performed a vicious ritual, transforming my living body into a human marionette. With a dowry of trillions in soul coins and an escort of a thousand minor ghosts, they shipped me off to the Underworld.

They just never expected who would be officiating the ceremony.

My ex-husband, the Lord of the Underworld himself.

* * *

“Don’t be dramatic, Chloe. Don’t you see this is for the best? Marrying you off to Old Man Hemlock is the only way the family can secure its place in the Capital!”

“Sylvia is the Void Master’s prized apprentice. You’ve seen her powers. We can’t ignore her vision.”

“Old Man Hemlock is an influential figure down there, a gatekeeper of mortal wealth. He specifically requested you, Chloe, with your unique, cold-yin aura. Our hands are tied.”

My parents and brother had me bound to a crucifix.

My body was a canvas for Sylvia’s dark art, plastered with sigils she’d painted on cursed parchment. Then, following her direction, they inserted a needle and pumped a necrotic mark directly into my heart. Finally, they slit the arteries in my wrists and ankles, draining my veins dry.

For forty-nine days, I was left to air-dry, my body slowly hardening, my skin turning taut and pale like treated leather.

I was becoming a puppet.

My lips were cracked and dry, but I fought, my voice a ragged whisper. “You’re being scammed. Old Man Hemlock is nothing. He’s just a bootlicker for one of the Judge’s clerks, a sycophant with no real power.”

My previous marriage to Nyx, the Lord of the Underworld, had meant a brief residency in his realm. I’d never met this Hemlock, but I’d heard the whispers. He was once a weasel, a conniving spirit whose only talent was flattery. I even remembered the Judge complaining about him, unable to pin him down for any real offense, forced to tolerate his presence. Tying the family’s fate to a creature like that was a death sentence.

My mother sighed, her eyes a venomous mix of pity and contempt. “We invested so much in you, Chloe. We hoped you’d climb the social ladder, marry into a powerful family, and lift us all up. But you were a disappointment. If it weren't for Sylvia arranging this match, our family would be destined for ruin.”

I shook my head, the movement stiff and jarring. I wanted to scream that Sylvia was the source of their ruin. Her dabbling in forbidden arts had upset the cosmic balance, and to save her own skin, she’d redirected the karmic backlash onto her closest kin. It was I who had defied the Underworld's laws, trading my marriage and my future with Nyx to save their ungrateful lives.

But before I could speak, Sylvia pierced my lips with a needle and red thread, sewing them shut.

Pain, white-hot and absolute, shot through me. Tears blurred my vision. She chanted a quick, sharp incantation, and the red thread vanished, leaving my lips sealed as if they had never been parted.

No matter how hard I tried, no sound could escape.

And then, my mouth moved, but the words weren't mine.

“Mom, Dad, brother… for the future of our family, I am willing to marry Old Man Hemlock. Don’t worry about me. Just focus on building your wealth and living the good life you deserve!”

My own eyes widened in horror. For a moment, my family looked just as stunned.

Sylvia, standing beside me, simply smirked. “Old Man Hemlock is a man of tradition. He dislikes taking a bride by force. He wants a wife who will bring him happiness,” she explained, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “So, I’m sorry, sister. The role of the marionette suits you perfectly.”

She then turned to my family. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure my sister is a most willing and obedient wife. Old Man Hemlock will be very, very comfortable.”

Relief washed over their faces.

My father couldn’t stop praising Sylvia’s brilliance. My brother beamed, proud to have such a powerful true sister. And my mother took Sylvia’s hands, her eyes filled with adoration. “You’ve worked so hard all these years, learning these difficult arts. Once we’re established, once we’re truly wealthy, we’ll make it all up to you.”

Sylvia’s response was a masterclass in feigned humility. “As long as I can be with you, my family, I would do anything.”