The Dead Queen’s Diary

The glowing screen of my laptop was the only thing keeping me going.

It was 3 AM. I was eighteen, flat broke, and completely wired from drinking way too much caffeine.

I was hunched over in the cramped front seat of my car, frantically running through video edits for my first actual paying client.

I just needed to push through this single project.

If I could lock in this specific payout, I could finally afford a deposit on a tiny studio apartment and get out of this miserable car.

My eyes were burning like someone had thrown sand into them. Just five minutes, I muttered to myself. Five minutes of sleep and then I’ll hit export.

I didn't wake up in my car.

I woke up to a beep-beep-beep sound.

My vision was blurry. I tried to sit up, but my head felt like it had been smashed.

"Mum, you're awake? I thought I had lost you."

I blinked hard, trying to force my eyes to focus. A boy was sitting right next to the mattress. He looked around ten years old, dressed in an expensive grey hoodie, staring down at me like I was a ghost.

"Who are you? Where am I? Where’s my car? Did I get robbed?"

Before he could even answer, the door swung open. A man walked inside wearing a black suit.

He was tall—at least six feet two—and he was gorgeous. Like, K-pop handsome. He possessed that effortless, brooding energy that made me think of Mingi from ATEEZ.

I sat there dazed, staring at the way his muscles shifted under the fabric of his suit. Damn.

"Elena," he mumbled, his voice thick with emotion. He sat down right next to my bed, looking like he had just witnessed a miracle.

"The doctors said the crash was horrific; they didn't know if you would ever wake up. Thank God you are awake. I didn't know how Jackson and I would have survived without you."

I flinched away, my back hitting the headboard as his hand reached out for me.

"Who are you? And how do you know my name?"

The man froze, his hand hanging in mid-air. The relief on his face shifted into pure confusion.

"What?"

"Is this a prank? Did you guys set this whole thing up? Where’s my laptop? I have work I need to finish right this second or I'm going to lose my contract."

"Elena, stop," he muttered. "It’s me, Julian. Your husband."

I scoffed, a loud, incredulous laugh bursting out of my chest. "Husband? Look, buddy, I’m eighteen.

I don't have a husband. I don't even have a boyfriend! Where on earth did a husband come from? Let me out of here."

Julian leaned in closer. I caught a whiff of his cologne—expensive, cedarwood, and suffocating. "Baby, you’re not eighteen. You’re twenty-nine."

My heart stopped. The rapid beep-beep-beep of the monitor spiked. "What did you just say?"

"You're twenty-nine," he repeated, pointing at the boy.

"And we have a son, Jackson, you named him after that idol Jackson Wang you used to be obsessed with. Remember?"

"No... no, no. This has to be a joke." I clutched my head, panicked gasps filling the room.

My fingers brushed against my hair. It was long, flowing, and smelled like a luxury salon. I pulled my hands down. My skin looked different—more mature. Sitting on my ring finger was a flawless diamond, held by a platinum band that probably cost more than my entire existence.

"Doctor, Get in here," Julian shouted.

A team in white coats rushed in, checking my pupils. Through the chaos, Julian never took his dark eyes off me. He watched me like I was a priceless artifact he had almost lost and had just fiercely claimed back.

The doctor started explaining details I couldn't process. Retrograde amnesia. A car accident. A coma that lasted six months. He said my brain had reset to my last clear memory.

"So you're telling me..." I mumbled, staring at the doctor. "That I just... missed eleven years? Of a life I don't even remember?"

"It's a trauma response, Mrs. Thorne," the doctor said.

I sat there, mind spinning. I was supposed to be eighteen. I was supposed to be in the trenches, fighting for my survival.

Now, I was a Mrs. Thorne, trapped inside a body that felt like a borrowed suit, married to a powerful stranger, and now a mother to a child.

Julian followed the team out. After a few minutes, he returned. "Elena, let's go home."

He scooped me up into his arms and carried me down to a private garage. There was a black Rolls Royce waiting.

He placed me in the back seat and buckled my belt, i wondered how the broke version of me had scored such an incredible man.

The car pulled through massive gates and arrived at a sprawling estate.

"Wow... do I actually live here?" I asked, looking through the glass at the gardens.

"Yes, baby," Julian said, a small smirk on his lips. "We have been living here for ten years."

"Wow. Not bad."

He took my hands and led me inside. The household staff stopped, bowed deeply, and called me madam. I stood in the center of the entrance, completely stunned.

I looked at Julian, then at the mansion, and let out a dramatic, exaggerated eye roll. If this was a dream, it was a very expensive one. But if this was reality? I had a lot of catching up to do.