MARY_OMONOWA

Modern dating is already a minefield, but nothing could have prepared Ellie for falling into a twisted love triangle with a ghost. When her seemingly perfect boyfriend, Ben, starts mumbling secrets to thin air and even forgets their anniversary, Ellie knows something is horribly off. Her worst fears come crashing down when she discovers that Victoria—Ben’s dashing, dead ex—is back from the grave, haunting him with a toxic mix of unresolved passion and vengeful unfinished business.

Determined not to lose the man she loves, Ellie embarks on a wild, chaotic journey to outwit this lovesick specter. As she digs deeper into Victoria’s murky past, Ellie uncovers a shocking truth: the ghost’s jealousy is only part of the nightmare. Victoria isn’t just stalking Ben—she’s trapped in an eternal limbo, doomed to suffer unless someone frees her from her own bitter chains. And now, Ellie must face the impossible challenge of saving not just her relationship, but a tortured soul from beyond the grave.

In this surreal battle where romance collides with the supernatural and dark humor, Ellie is forced to ask the unthinkable: Can love really transcend death, or is she doomed to become nothing more than an awkward, unwitting third wheel in a paranormal romance that defies all natural laws?

The ghost who stole my man

Ben's breath came in sharp, uneven gasps. His wrists still ached where her nails had dug into his skin, phantom bruises blooming under her touch.

The thing inside Ellie's body—whatever it was, whoever it was—was toying with him.

She traced his jawline with the tip of her finger, tilting his chin up so their eyes met.

"Still fighting it, I see," she murmured, a cruel smirk playing on her lips. "How noble."

Ben swallowed hard. His entire body was wound tight, ready to snap, but he forced himself to stay still. To think.

"Tell me the truth." His voice was raw. "What are you?"

"You already asked me that." She cocked her head, studying him like a scientist watching an experiment unfold. "And I already told you."

She let out a slow, deliberate sigh, as if his persistence amused her.

"I suppose you want the long version now?"

She moved—one fluid motion, unsettling in its grace—as she settled herself beside him on the bed, her fingers playing lazily with the sheets.

"You see, dear Ben," she started, her voice dripping with amusement, "souls don't just wander. They don't just linger. Not unless they have a purpose."

"Ellie had a purpose," she continued, "and so did Victoria."

The woman in front of him smiled, slow and knowing.

"Ah," she mused. "There it is. That flicker of memory, trying to claw its way back."

Ben's head throbbed, fragments of something just out of reach pressing at the edges of his mind.

"You don't remember, do you?" she asked, her tone mocking. "Not completely."

He gritted his teeth. No. He didn't.

The thing inside Ellie chuckled, low and sweet.

"Oh, Ben," she purred. "I didn't do anything.*

Her eyes gleamed in the dim light.

"It means," she whispered, leaning in so close that her breath brushed against his lips, "that you have always been so easy to manipulate."

The air between them crackled, thick with something unseen.

Chapter 70: The Wrong Soul in the Right Body