I borrowed my best friend’s jacket for my wedding — but what I found inside left me shocked.

That day, when I got to his house, I noticed something strange — he wasn’t smiling like he usually did. In fact, he looked uneasy…almost nervous

I decided not to ask questions. I took the jacket and headed home.

But the moment I pulled it out of the bag, something felt wrong

It was rumpled — far too rumpled for a wedding suit — and there was this strange, unpleasant smell coming out from the shirt.

I kept sniffing, trying to figure it out… until I felt something in the pocket.

My hands froze. My eyes widened. My jaw went slack.

Inside the pocket was something that looked exactly like a human finger… and it was stained with dark, dried-red fluid.

My chest tightened. My mind went blank.

I grabbed my phone and dialed Tunde immediately.

“Hello? Tunde… what did I just see inside your jacket? Is that a… finger?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Oh—bro, no… no, it’s not what you think,” he stammered. “We caught a monkey in the village last week. I was wearing that suit when it happened. I… I stole part of it, but I forgot to take it out.”

His voice trembled, but I didn’t think much of it. I waved it off, even though I didn’t trust his words. I threw the thing away, and sent the jacket to the laundry.

Later, my fiancée Lisa and I went to book our hotel for the wedding weekend. I figured she kept she kept looking at me in a strange manner.

I asked her what was wrong severaly but she wouldn’t say anything. But in her eyes I could tell something was wrong. It was as if she was scared of something.

We finally booked the hotel and everything was set.

A day before the wedding, the hotel started filling with special guests. I decided to find Tunde — my best man — so he could check my wedding attire with me.

But on my way to his room, I stopped halfway.

There he was… standing with Lisa.

They weren’t touching, but the way they froze when they saw me… it was as if I’d caught them doing something they shouldn’t.

I couldn’t hear what they’d been saying, but I knew it wasn’t casual.

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“Richy, my guy! Tomorrow’s your big day,” Tunde said, breaking the heavy silence.

I forced a smile. “Yeah… come check my drip.”

“Alright, let’s go. See you later, Lisa,” he said, walking past her.

Something didn’t sit right. My gut screamed at me.

And then, just as we stepped into my room, my phone buzzed.

A text.

From an unknown number.

> “Don’t marry her. Ask Tunde where he was last night.”

MY WIFE AND MY BEST MAN EPISODE 2

> “Don’t marry her. Ask Tunde where he was last night.”
—

The moment I read the text, my mind went blank.
Who sent this?

I wanted to call the number immediately, but Tunde was right there in the room with me. I decided to keep it hidden… for now.

While we were getting dressed, I noticed Tunde casually pick up my phone from the table.

I wasn’t sure what he was looking at, but the sudden shift in his facial expression told me enough—he had seen something.

It hit me instantly, I haven’t deleted the message.
I quickly snatched the phone from him, pretending it was nothing.

He gave a faint smile, but I knew he’d read it. When I unlocked my phone, the message was gone. It has been deleted.

My stomach tightened.
He knows.
But I didn’t dare confront him—I didn’t want him suspecting that I knew.

I forced a smile and continued dressing up, but halfway through our small talk, Tunde suddenly asked:

> “Did any random person text you?”

I tried to sound casual.

> “I haven’t really checked my phone. Did someone text you… or maybe they meant to text me?”

> “Not really… just my photographer,” he replied quickly, his eyes darting away.

He was lying. I could feel it.

A few minutes later, he stood up.

> “Bro, I’ll be back. I need to handle something urgent.”

He left in a rush.

My chest was pounding now. Something was wrong—seriously wrong. I didn’t know if I should go ahead with the wedding or walk away completely. But if I backed out, Tunde would know I’d seen the message.

I decided to keep an eye on him instead.

When I went to his room, he wasn’t there. I searched the entire hotel. Nothing.

Worried, I went to check on my fiancée.
Gone.

Both their phones were switched off.

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When I asked the hotel security, my worst fears began to form.
They told me both of them had left together—in a tinted car.

I couldn’t say anything to anyone. I didn’t want to draw attention or make it a public scene. Something big was happening, and I knew it wasn’t good.

As I turned to head back to my room, my phone vibrated.

Another message.
This time… it was an address.

EPISODE 3

As I turned to head back to my room, my phone vibrated again.

Another message.

This time… it was an address.
————-

I wasted no time. I grabbed my jacket, pocketed my phone, and headed straight there, hoping I’d find my best man and my soon-to-be wife.

On the way, something crossed my mind—I should call the number that sent the message, which I did.

The phone rang and someone picked up.
“Hello?” a voice said.

“Hello, I saw a message co—”

Before I could finish, I heard a sudden crash—like the phone had been dropped—followed by hurried voices.
“They’re here! We need to leave now!” one voice barked.

Then silence.

A moment later, faint footsteps and a muffled female voice. I strained to hear, but then—another crash and the line went dead.

By now, I was almost at the address. As I approached the location, a black tinted car sped past me, matching the exact description of the one my fiancée and Tunde had left the hotel in.

My heart pounded.

I reached the location and scanned the area. That’s when I saw it—a phone, smashed to pieces on the ground. A cold wave ran through me. This was serious. Too serious.

I decided to wait in case the mysterious person, who sent the message returns, but after a while, my phone started ringing. Over and over.

It was my wife.

The calls were relentless. I didn’t pick up—not because I didn’t want to, but because something deep inside told me not to.

After a while, I finally booked a ride back to the hotel.

Halfway through, another call came—but this time from my mother.
“Hello, mummy,” I answered softly.

Her voice was trembling. “Richard… my son… I know this is the worst time, but… your brother has passed away.”

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Her words hit me like a brick. My breath caught. I ended the call without saying a word and headed straight to my room.

Not long after, my wife and fiancée walked in, demanding to know why I hadn’t been answering my phone.

We argued briefly, until she suddenly excused herself, leaving her phone on the bed.

After a while the phone lit up with a new message.

From Tunde.

“They’ve found out. Lay low.”

My hands froze over the phone.
What did that mean… and who exactly had “found out”?

EPISODE 4

My hands froze over the phone.

What did that mean… and who exactly had “found out”?

—

At that moment, I decided to take the first warning seriously — I was not going to marry my wife.

The next day, which was supposed to be our wedding, I faked an illness. I had already planned it with my doctor, and from there, I was “rushed” to the hospital.

The doctor placed me on a sickbed, and the wedding had to be postponed. I could see the frustration all over my fiancée’s face.

It was almost as if she was desperate to get married at all costs — which didn’t feel normal. She even suggested we get married right there on the hospital bed.

Everyone disagreed… except my best man, who supported her and kept trying to convince me to go through with it.

That was all the confirmation I needed — the two of them were working together, and whatever they were planning wasn’t for my benefit.

Two days later, while still in the hospital with my family around me, I got a WhatsApp message from an unsaved number.

I didn’t open it immediately. Instead, I excused myself to use the toilet so I could check it in private.

When I finally opened it, I saw pictures of someone in a hospital bed. It wasn’t me — this person was badly injured, hooked up to machines, with an oxygen mask covering their face.

I couldn’t tell if the person was alive or dead. But before I could think too much about it, another message came from the same number:

> “Come to YKC junction by 7 p.m. tomorrow night.”

Before I could even reply, another message followed:

> “Wear a green top and red shorts.”

I tried to respond, but the messages deleted themselves instantly.

I went straight to the doctor’s office and told him I needed to leave the hospital for a while — without my family knowing.

He told me to fake a seizure and promised to handle the rest.

Minutes later, I walked back into my ward where my family was gathered and started acting. They panicked, calling the doctor, who quickly ushered everyone out.

I was moved to a “special ward” where no visitors were allowed. That’s how I managed to slip out of the hospital the next day without anyone knowing.

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When I arrived at YKC junction, I stood still, waiting. No call. No text. Just the sound of my own breathing and my heart pounding in my ears.

Then — out of nowhere — a car screeched to a stop in front of me. Two men jumped out, grabbed me, and dragged me inside. The car sped off before I could react.

I struggled, kicking and shouting, until I felt a sharp sting in my neck…

And then, everything went dark.

The engagement is low guys or I should stop please share also.

EPISODE 5

When I got to the location, I stood still—no call, no sign, just hope. Suddenly, a car screeched to a halt in front of me. Two men jumped out, grabbed me, and shoved me inside before I could react.

I struggled, my breath coming in sharp bursts, but then I felt a sharp sting in my neck. Darkness swallowed me whole.

—

When I opened my eyes, everything was blurry. My head pounded, and the ceiling above me turned.

I was lying on a hospital bed. Two men sat beside me, their silhouettes blurred.

I tried to rub my eyes, but something restrained my hands—it felt like straps holding me to the bed.

“I think he’s awake,” one of them said.

My vision cleared, and recognition hit me—they were my brother’s business partners. I glanced around; this wasn’t the same hospital I had been admitted to before.

“Were you the ones sending me those strange messages?” I asked.

They exchanged a look and nodded.

“Come with us,” one said.

What I saw next made my blood run cold. My brother was still alive, but barely—lay on another bed. His skin was pale, his breathing shallow, and one of his fingers was missing.

It clicked immediately—he was the man in the picture they had sent me. That missing finger… it was the same one I had seen on my best man’s suit.

“Why? What happened?” I demanded, my voice shaking.

They told me the truth. My best man and my fiancée were lovers. They had been planning to take my wealth and disappear.

My brother had accidentally overheard their plan and threatened to tell me and report them to the authorities.

So they tried to silence him. Permanently.

The partners explained that my brother had video evidence—proof of everything—but no one knew where it was hidden. They were keeping him alive, hoping he would recover enough to reveal its location.

Disgust burned in my chest. I couldn’t wait to hand both of them to the police.

Two weeks later, my brother regained consciousness. He told us exactly where the video was. With it, we built a case. My fiancée and my so-called best man were arrested, tried, and found guilty.

They were sentenced to prison. My brother recovered, though he would always bear the scar of a missing finger.

And me? I learned the hard way that sometimes the people closest to you hold the sharpest knives.

Sorry guys for posting late am currently sick

THE END