Ryan climbed out of the car and stood outside the church, his chest heavy. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye to his father. The grief sat in his throat, sharp and unrelenting. We couldn’t even give Dad a proper funeral, he thought bitterly. That’s when Bella, his loyal German Shepherd, barked sharply, her growl cutting through his thoughts.

“Bella!” Ryan gave her a hand signal to lie down, and she obeyed—but her whine was uneasy, her eyes fixed on the church door. Ryan patted her head through the open car window. “Stay, girl.”

Inside, the church was dimly lit, heavy with the scent of lilies. His father Arnold’s casket sat closed, roped off by the funeral director. Because Arnold had supposedly died of an infectious disease, the coffin was sealed, and cremation had been ordered.

Ryan slid into the pew beside his mother, who clutched her handkerchief as if it could hold her upright. The service blurred around him. But just as the final hymn began, Bella’s furious barking erupted again. She had forced her way inside, leapt onto the coffin, knocking flowers to the marble floor.

Ryan froze as Bella sat stiffly in her alert position, eyes locked on him. His stomach sank.

“Open the casket!” Ryan’s voice thundered across the church.

Gasps filled the air. Relatives whispered, horrified. Ignoring them, Ryan walked forward and threw open the coffin lid—only to find it completely empty.

Chaos broke out. His uncle demanded answers. His mother fainted in shock, collapsing like a puppet with its strings cut. Ryan barely caught her before her head struck the marble.

Hours later, with his mother in the hospital, Ryan phoned the police.

Detective Bradshaw listened grimly. “The coroner confirmed the death, then released the remains to the funeral home. Was your father involved in anything… questionable?”

Ryan shook his head. He had cut ties with his father’s business to run a dog training center. Arnold wasn’t perfect, but he wouldn’t stage something like this—would he?

Bradshaw promised updates, but Ryan couldn’t wait. Leaving Bella at home, he drove to the morgue. There, a nurse casually revealed that the coroner had resigned. No replacement yet. Arnold’s file? Missing.

Frustrated, Ryan bribed the nurse and slipped into the coroner’s office. Empty shelves, missing records—nothing. Just then, his phone buzzed. It was his father’s lawyer, Mr. Stevens.

“You’re the new CEO now,” Stevens said curtly. “We need to meet.”

At Arnold’s office, Ryan logged into his father’s email—completely wiped. He spotted something else: two valuable figurines missing from the shelf. Stevens brushed it off, claiming Arnold had taken them home, but Ryan knew they weren’t there.

More shocks followed: the company was in debt, investors pulling out, whispers of Arnold’s affair with his secretary, Miss Pearson. Ryan clenched his fists but forced himself to focus. He had to protect his mother.

That night, Ryan tailed Miss Pearson, sneaking into her home when she left. What he found made his stomach twist: a framed photo of her kissing Arnold—and a $7 million life insurance policy naming her as the sole beneficiary.

Detective Bradshaw was stunned. “This looks like fraud. Pearson’s booked a one-way flight to Morocco. If she boards, she’s gone for good.”

Ryan followed the police to the airport. Chaos erupted as they tried to intercept her, but she slipped away. Another dead end.

Still, Ryan’s instincts screamed that Arnold wasn’t dead. The missing figurines gnawed at him. He tracked down the final collector of the set, Mr. Frederick, who demanded $750,000. Ryan liquidated company shares despite the risk, bought the figurine, and baited an auction—certain Arnold couldn’t resist completing the collection.

On auction day, Ryan hid in the shadows. The bid climbed, participants dropped out—until a deep voice shattered the silence.

“$1 million.”

Ryan’s heart stopped. Arnold. His father, alive, disguised in a beige coat and wide-brimmed hat.

“Sold!” The gavel slammed. Arnold turned to leave—but Ryan blocked his path. Detective Bradshaw stepped forward and cuffed him.

“You tricked me!” Arnold spat.

Ryan’s voice shook, equal parts fury and heartbreak. “You faked your death. Lied to Mom. To me. To everyone. All for money and a mistress.”

Arnold lowered his head, admitting he had bribed the coroner, staged the illness, and planned to vanish with Miss Pearson.

“You taught me that a man should live by his principles,” Ryan said coldly. “Instead, you buried yours with an empty coffin.”

As Arnold was led away, Bradshaw assured Ryan that Miss Pearson wouldn’t stay hidden for long.

Ryan exhaled, Bella’s bark echoing in his memory. His loyal dog had known the truth before anyone else.