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Married To My Ex-Fiancé's Silent Uncle

Ming Yue

Twenty minutes before the "Wedding of the Century" at The Plaza, I stood outside the Presidential Suite in a fifty-thousand-dollar Vera Wang gown. I was the girl from a West Virginia trailer park about to marry Hugh Maxwell, the golden heir to a billion-dollar defense empire. I pushed the door open only to find Hugh pinned against the bed with my own stepsister, Floy. She was wearing my bridal diamond necklace, and the sounds of their laughter scraped against my eardrums like sandpaper. I didn't scream; I listened as Hugh grunted that once the wedding was over and the trust fund unlocked, he'd dump "that hillbilly trash" on a bus back to the mountains. They weren't just cheating; they were planning to steal my family's land deeds and leave me with nothing. When I set off the sprinklers and exposed their naked bodies to the paparazzi, the Maxwell family didn't apologize. They called me a "greedy peasant" and threatened to ruin my life unless I signed a new deal to save their crashing stock. I realized then that I was never a bride to them. I was a transaction, a rounding error in a ledger to be used and discarded. They thought my poverty made me weak and my silence made me a victim. "If we don't have a marriage certificate by midnight, the bank freezes thirty percent of our liquidity," their lawyer warned. So, I gave them exactly what they wanted. I used a loophole in their hundred-year-old family covenant and married the only other direct heir available. I didn't marry Hugh. I walked into the ICU and married his uncle, Fleet Maxwell-the legendary war hero who had been in a vegetative state for months. Now, I am the matriarch of the Maxwell dynasty. I've suspended Hugh's executive powers, exiled my mother-in-law to the Swiss Alps, and taken control of the family vault. They think I'm just a gold-digger waiting for a "corpse" to die so I can collect a fifty-million-dollar widow's payout. But last night, as I lay beside my comatose husband, the man they called a vegetable gripped my hand back.

Modern Scheming Contract marriage Billionaires CEO Flash Marriage Revenge Age Gap

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"Mommy, Mommy!"

I heard yelling from outside of my bedroom. The yelling woke me up from my sleep, So I begun to get up from my bed. My head turned looking at the clock reading 3:05 A.M. I snapped my head again in front of me when the door creaked open showing my little Miya.

She stood there with her pink zebra pattern pajamas and bunny slippers. She looked so cute with her curly brown messy hair, and her big milky brown eyes. She rubbed her eyes tiredly looking at me.

"Mom bathromf pwease?" She said with pleading eyes.

"Okay, sweetheart let's go."

This time I got off from the comfy bed and swung my legs over. Once my feet touched the floor, I hurriedly walked across my bedroom to Miya. I scooped her up in my arms walking fast to the bathroom making sure she doesn't pee on herself.

Once I entered the bathroom and lifted the toilet seat up. I sat her the on the toilet and squatted down so I was eye level with her and began my routine that I do every time encouraging her when she needed to use the restroom.

"Come on my girl, you got it. Come on, baby girl you can do it!" After a little words of encouragement she finally peed.

I picked her up from the toilet seat and stood her up on the ground, helping her put her pajamas pants on. I than proceeded to lift her up again and sat her on my legs and between the sink. I pumped the soap on her hand and washed them with warm water. Once the soap was gone from her hands I sat her on the ground again and walked her to her room.

Her room was a decent size. It wasn't too big nor too small. Her walls were pink and purple, which matched her bed comforter which was pink with purple dots. She also had a dresser on the side of the room with her favorite books and movies.

I walked her to her bed and laid her down. Once I wiggled her in the bed and tucked her in, I faced her, and cradled her in my arms.

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