Evelyn Reed
16 Published Stories
Evelyn Reed's Books and Stories
He Murdered Our Son, I Faked My Death
Modern A perfect afternoon shattered in an instant, taking my five-year-old son, Leo, who was skipping happily by my side.
I was critically injured, rushed into surgery, my world already in pieces.
But a strange genetic immunity to anesthetics meant I woke up.
And I heard everything.
My husband, Mark, calm and cold, told the doctor, "Remove her uterus. Make sure she can't have any more children."
Then, a phone call.
"The kid is handled," he muttered. "Payment is on its way."
Leo wasn't an accident. He was "handled."
My own husband had our son murdered, and was making me barren to clear obstacles for his other family – a mistress and the teenage son he' d hidden for years.
Every shared moment, every memory, a calculated lie.
My son' s short life, reduced to an inconvenience to be erased.
At Leo's funeral, Mark, his secret family, and his mother celebrated, flaunting their wealth.
His other son, Brody, deliberately kicked Leo's scattered ashes, sneering, "Guess he's really scattered now."
The depths of their depravity turned my raw grief into a cold, unbreakable resolve.
They thought me broken, unstable, weak.
They had no idea that beneath my feigned unconsciousness, a different battle had just begun.
I faked my own death, but my meticulous justice was just beginning. Bound By Contract: My Disabled Husband
Romance Eleanor's family business was on the brink of collapse, and they desperately needed the Carlisle family's wealth to survive.
Her father forced her to take her sister's place to marry Julian Carlisle, a paralyzed and notoriously cruel billionaire heir.
Worse, her fiancé immediately abandoned her to stand by her sister's side, claiming they were now in love.
To ensure Eleanor couldn't back out, her sister publicly pointed out a fresh, purplish mark on Eleanor's neck in the crowded hospital corridor.
"Sis, you two are broken up. How could you be so careless?"
It was a brutal reminder of the terrifying night before, when Eleanor was drugged and assaulted by a stranger in a pitch-black hotel room.
Instead of defending her, her father looked at her with pure disgust.
He threatened to cut off her beloved younger brother's college tuition and ruin his life if she didn't obey.
Sold like damaged goods, Eleanor was sent to the imposing Carlisle estate, where Julian's relatives openly mocked her origins and accused her of being dirty.
Her entire world had turned its back on her, leaving her utterly isolated and suffocating in shame.
She couldn't understand how her own flesh and blood could sacrifice her so ruthlessly, nor did she know the identity of the mysterious man who ruined her.
But standing in front of her terrifying new husband, Eleanor refused to shed another tear.
She signed a one-year contract marriage, boldly rejected Julian's ten-million-dollar severance offer to keep her dignity, and publicly declared war on his abusive family.
She was going to survive, find the man from that night, and make everyone who betrayed her pay. From Hidden Lover To His Boss: The Billionaire's Ultimate Regret
Romance After three years of being billionaire Dorr Randall's hidden lover, Bailey was dismissed with a seven-figure check.
He coldly announced he was marrying an "old friend" for a family alliance, fully expecting her to break down and beg.
Instead, Bailey calmly pocketed the money, signed the separation papers, and walked out of his penthouse without looking back.
Seeking temporary refuge, she returned to her estranged, abusive family's estate, only to be struck by a cruel twist of fate.
The prestigious fiancé her stepmother and stepsister were so desperately fawning over was none other than Dorr.
Her stepmother looked at her with pure disgust, treating her like a stray dog.
"Don't you dare bring your bad luck and disgrace into this house while he's here."
At the family dinner, Bailey wore a flawless mask of indifference, politely greeting the completely stunned Dorr as her future brother-in-law.
But instead of keeping his distance, Dorr lost his mind, stalking her through the city and cornering her in a fit of insane, possessive jealousy.
When he impulsively canceled the wedding, her stepfamily viciously blamed Bailey, cursing her as a jealous homewrecker and throwing her out.
Exhausted by their endless cruelty and Dorr's suffocating hypocrisy, Bailey decided she was done being their punching bag.
She accepted a life-changing offer from the one person who could crush them all: Dorr's formidable grandmother.
At the city's grandest charity gala, Bailey stepped into the dazzling spotlight as the Matriarch's official protégée and the sudden heir to half of their billionaire trust.
Looking down at her stepfamily's terrified faces and Dorr's horrified eyes, she finally smiled. Trapped By The Ruthless Billionaire Lawyer
Romance My brother Leo was thrown into a jail cell for defending his fiancée from a brutal assault by a billionaire heir.
To save him, I gathered all the evidence and went to the police, but the heir's cousin, Damien Kensington—the most ruthless and powerful attorney in Manhattan—crushed my case in exactly five minutes.
Damien didn't just stop at burying the truth.
He bought off our only eyewitness with a hundred-thousand-dollar Rolex. He secretly blacklisted every law firm in New York from ever taking my brother's case. Worse, he systematically cut off all my options until I was forced to sign an ironclad NDA and work as a tutor in his own penthouse just to pay off Leo's legal debts.
When I nearly died in a rainy alley trying to find the corrupted security footage, Damien dragged me back to his mansion, violently kissed me until I bled, and locked me in his bedroom.
I woke up the next morning wearing nothing but his oversized dress shirt.
I couldn't understand why a man of his immense wealth and power was going to such psychotic lengths to trap a broke, desperate girl like me.
If he merely wanted to win an assault case for his cousin, why was he isolating me from the world, marking me as his own, and paying me a thousand dollars an hour just to keep me trapped under his roof?
Looking at the fresh bandage he had wrapped around my ankle, I wiped my tears and made a decision.
I would take his dirty money and use it to tear his empire down from the inside. The Tyrant Alpha's Secret Reborn Queen
Werewolf My fated mate brought my cousin to my home to privately break our engagement.
He claimed his wolf didn't see me as his mate, while my cousin cried fake tears, hiding the fact that she was already seven weeks pregnant with his bastard child.
In my previous life, I didn't know the truth. I cried and begged him not to leave.
My weakness made me a laughingstock and allowed them to ruin my reputation.
My father, who I later learned had murdered my mother to protect his own affair with my cousin's mother, helped them steal my family's wealth.
They took everything from me, and I was eventually thrown to the Rogue wolves, my throat ripped open in the dark while they lived happily ever after.
Until the moment the teeth tore through my flesh, I couldn't understand why my own family and my fated mate would conspire to destroy me so completely.
Opening my eyes again, I was back in my sixteen-year-old body, right on the morning they came to deliver their prepared speech.
This time, I didn't shed a single tear.
"I want a formal, public rejection ceremony presided over by the elders."
I exposed their affair to his terrifying Alpha uncle, blackmailed my murderous father for the family seal, and kicked my cousin out into the streets.
And when she showed up at the high-society banquet wearing the exact same custom emerald gown as me to publicly humiliate me, I didn't run away in shame.
Instead, I calmly pulled out a silver cigar cutter and sliced my silk dress all the way up to my thigh. Fated to the Dangerous and Possessive Lycan King
Werewolf After catching my fiancé cheating with my adoptive sister, I broke off our engagement on the spot.
In retaliation, my abusive adoptive parents sold me to Kaelen Knight, the Lycan King, to clear our pack's debts.
He was rumored to be a ruthless, reclusive monster who had been horribly crippled in a fire centuries ago.
To ensure my absolute ruin, my sister planted fake love letters to my ex in my luggage and anonymously destroyed my university scholarship, cutting off my only escape route to the human world.
"A wolfless whore. You planned to drug me," Kaelen sneered, looking at the fake evidence with absolute disgust.
Believing I was a spy, my new husband had his guards throw me into the freezing woods with the Dire Wolves, leaving me to survive the night alone.
I was just a broken, wolfless Omega, entirely at the mercy of a cruel, powerless Lycan and a family that wanted me dead.
But I was wrong about him being powerless.
One night, I accidentally saw him rise from his wheelchair, his tall frame radiating an overwhelming, lethal aura.
He wasn't crippled at all.
The secret I thought was my shield was actually a loaded gun pointed at my head. Trapped with a terrifying predator, I had to stop playing the victim and fight for my life. The Jilted Heiress And Her Possessive Guardian
Romance Ardella caught her fiancé Braden cheating with an actress in a downtown VIP room.
It was supposed to be a simple business marriage to save her family's bankrupt company.
But instead of supporting her, her uncle and aunt demanded she get on her knees and apologize to the cheating fiancé.
They didn't care about her dignity; they only cared about the merger capital.
Her cousin publicly mocked her, and her uncle threatened to permanently hide the police file revealing who murdered her father if she ruined the deal.
To make matters worse, Ethelbert Stone, the terrifying billionaire who raised her—and the man she was desperately trying to escape—publicly claimed he didn't know her.
Yet, moments later, he trapped her in his car, his eyes filled with a sick, possessive rage, reminding her that every inch of her belonged to him.
She was completely cornered by a cheating fiancé, a parasitic family, and an obsessed former guardian.
They had drained her father's trust fund dry and now wanted to sell her off to cover their debts.
They really thought she was just a helpless pawn they could manipulate and discard at will.
But they were dead wrong.
Ardella calmly wiped her hands after throwing scalding tea at her aunt's feet, staring down at her greedy family.
"The headline tomorrow will read: Price Group Bankrupt, Fails to Sell Niece to Cover Debts."
She backed up the video of her fiancé's betrayal to ten different servers and sent a text to her private investigator.
Tonight, at the elite society dinner, she was going to blow the scandal wide open and drag them all down with her. Broken And Betrayed: A Billionaire's Regret
Modern My ten-year contract marriage was over. I had saved my sister's life by playing wife to a billionaire and mother to his two sons. Today, I was finally free.
But at my stepson's birthday party, my public execution began when a deepfake porn video starring my face was broadcast to all of New York's elite.
Then, my husband's ex-wife, Carolina, orchestrated my downfall. She stabbed herself and blamed me. The boys I raised screamed that I was a monster. And my husband, Justin, believing her lies, beat me so brutally that I miscarried the child I never knew I was carrying.
He chose her. He chose the lie. He let our child die.
But his mother, the woman who orchestrated our marriage, saved me. Months later, my ex-husband and stepsons found me in LA, crying and begging me to come home. I looked at the men who destroyed me and smiled.
"No," I said calmly. "I don't need you anymore." Data of a Broken Heart
Sci-fi The kiss was cold. Not just the late hour, but his eyes, fixated on a spiking graph over my shoulder, measuring my every breath.
"Perfect," Ethan murmured, pulling away. "The oxytocin response was exactly as predicted." He wasn' t talking to me. Our kiss, a desperate attempt to reconnect, was just data for his obsession: Project Seraph.
Our home had become a lab, our life an experiment. I, Ava, a software engineer who' d set aside my career for his, felt like a ghost, a tool in his grand design.
That night, a thin line of light from his locked office door beckoned. I used a backdoor I' d coded years ago.
The room was a laboratory. And in the center, a shimmering, life-sized hologram of Sophia Reed-his dead ex-girlfriend. "Soon, Sophia. Soon you'll be whole again," he vowed, his voice filled with a reverence he hadn't shown me in years.
Then, the horror. He saw me. "Ava? She' s served her purpose. Her neural patterns, her emotional responses… they were the perfect raw data to rebuild you." He filtered out my "weaknesses," my "softness," using our intimacy, our arguments, just to gather data.
I stood frozen. It wasn't just a project. It was a resurrection. And I was the sacrifice. He didn't grieve her; he resented me for not being her. The chilling realization of his malice, extending even to my devastating miscarriage years ago, hit me like a physical blow.
My love turned to ash. I would not be a template. I would not be erased. This wasn't about saving my marriage. This was about survival. And justice. I would burn his project to the ground. The Ex-Wife Who Built An Empire
Modern My mother-in-law, Maria, was crying silently at my kitchen table, her shoulders shaking with a defeated kind of grief.
My husband, Ethan, barely glanced up from his phone.
"Dad had another one of his episodes," he said, dismissively.
This meant Maria, our lifeline for childcare, was being sent back to her abusive husband.
A cold dread settled in my stomach; this was the beginning of the end for my paralegal career.
Then, the strange incidents started with the nannies: a baby monitor blasting static, a gas knob turned on, a back door found wide open.
Terrified, one by one, they all quit, forcing me to give up the job I loved, the independence I cherished.
Ethan, now a newly promoted Regional Director, gloated.
"See? It' s a sign. You' re meant to be home with Maya."
He cut off my access to our joint account, then tossed me a few hundred dollars a week like an allowance, questioning every single purchase.
Our home became a cage, and he was the gatekeeper.
But I wasn' t stupid.
I knew his control was tightening, and I saw a way out.
One night, after he threw a wad of cash in my face and called me a leech, my phone buzzed.
A photo appeared, then quickly vanished: Ethan, arm-in-arm with another woman.
My hands shook with a potent mix of humiliation, rage, and a terrifying clarity.
That night, I hit record on my camera, pouring every ounce of my defiance into my 100th baking video.
The next morning, it went viral. The Violinist's Secret
Modern I spent my childhood isolated, my violin the only companion, fueled by my father's promise: master it, and my estranged mother would return.
She did come back, but not for me. My mother, Sabrina, arrived with a fragile half-brother, Caleb, and eyes that held no warmth, only a chilling disdain.
I quickly discovered I was nothing but a painful reminder of a past she hated. My father, a tech mogul, used Caleb's critical illness as leverage, caging my mother in our sprawling estate. My desperate attempt to help Caleb backfired spectacularly, revealing my own hidden, life-threatening blood disorder.
The world shattered around me overnight. My entire existence was a carefully constructed lie designed by a father who controlled my fate, and a mother who openly despised me, wishing I'd never been born.
Now, with Caleb tragically gone and my parents' twisted war reaching a deadly climax, I must confront the shocking truth of their love, their hatred, and who I truly am amidst the wreckage. The Cost of a Crown: A Mafia Princess's Ruin
Mafia My life as a mafia princess ended the day Dante Moretti, the new Don, killed my family and seized our home.
Now, I was a prisoner, a humiliated servant scrubbing floors in what was once my mansion, enduring his cruel torment day and night.
He swore my family had destroyed his, and his vengeance was absolute.
Then came the impossible truth: I was pregnant with his child.
A tiny, secret hope, a fragile reason to endure, began to bloom in my heart.
But Dante, spurred by his calculating fiancée, brutally forced me to abort our baby.
He then coldly orchestrated the public murder of my last remaining family-my beloved mother.
My entire world shattered in that moment.
That final act of cruelty extinguished every flicker of hope, leaving nothing but cold, dead ash.
My will to live evaporated, replaced by a quiet resolve to end my suffering.
I prepared my escape, a hidden bottle of pills my one solace, planning to simply fade away.
How could one man inflict such unimaginable pain, destroying everything I held dear, yet haunt my every thought with a past love I tried desperately to bury?
Why, in his eyes, did I see both pure hatred and a possessive darkness that called to something deep within me?
Was there truly no undoing the generational cycle of violence he relentlessly pursued?
On the night he paraded me as a broken trophy before his capos, my family's remaining loyalists stormed the ballroom to kill him.
As a blade lunged for his heart, an instinct, a forgotten echo of a life I thought was gone, made me throw myself in front of him.
But as I shielded the man who utterly ruined me, the poison I had taken hours earlier began its final, irreversible work. From Funeral Home to Fortune: A Thompson's Rise
Romance My father' s funeral was a blur of lilies and hushed condolences.
I stood by his grave, a shell of grief, the world a gray canvas of loss while my fiancé, Ethan, stood beside me, a comforting presence, or so I thought.
Then darkness. I woke on a funeral home couch, voices drifting in.
Ethan' s smooth tones and his father Senator Carter' s icy pronouncements cut through the haze: "With Senator Thompson gone, the girl' s family is... socially irrelevant now." My breath caught, a sharp, bitter thing.
Their casual cruelty laid bare the truth: Ethan's plan to ditch me for a "much better fit" for his ambitions, seeing me only as "yesterday's news."
The man who whispered promises, who held my hand, saw me as nothing more than a discarded stepping stone.
My heart, already shattered by loss, was now brutally re-fractured by their cold, calculated betrayal.
The sheer audacity of it, planning my discard while my father's casket lay near, left me reeling, choked with a humiliating fury. How could they?!
But as the nausea receded, a cold, hard resolve solidified in my gut.
They thought I was irrelevant, that my family's name meant nothing without my father.
I would show them meticulously how relevant the Thompsons still were, and their own PR firm would orchestrate it. A Mother's Cold Resolve
Modern My 8-year-old daughter, Lily, was diagnosed with a rare, life-threatening heart condition, needing immediate, exorbitantly expensive treatment.
The doctor' s words were a blow, but the real shock came when I learned our entire savings were gone.
My mother-in-law, Carol, had squandered over a hundred thousand dollars on pseudo-scientific "wellness" products from a charismatic online guru, Tiffany Hayes, believing they'd "cure" Lily and bring "good fortune."
Yet, I said nothing. I even "sold" our townhouse to generate $500,000 for Lily's care, depositing it into a new account.
Predictably, within 72 hours, Carol blew almost all of it-including a $200,000 "Bio-Resonance Chamber"-on more of Tiffany's schemes.
My husband, Mark, complicit, claimed to have tried to stop her.
Lily' s 'symptoms,' conveniently coached by Mark and Tiffany, seemed to worsen dramatically.
Everyone witnessed my unsettling calm, mistaking it for passivity or naiveté.
How could I endure such betrayal? Such financial recklessness at the expense of our daughter' s life? But behind my placid exterior, a cold calculation was at play.
For months, I had been watching them, quietly gathering every piece of evidence.
The moment Lily 'collapsed' and we rushed to the hospital, I knew my moment had arrived.
As Mark frantically begged me to call my wealthy parents for a bailout, and a journalist live-streamed, I looked directly at him and stated, "No money, no treatment. I won't lower my lifestyle for this." The outrage was immediate.
They thought I was a monster. But what they didn't know was this was exactly what I wanted them to think. The Son She Chose to Lose
Billionaires I thought I had it all. A quiet, devoted husband David, a brilliant son Ethan heading to college, and a secret life of immense wealth, lavishing affection and luxury on my high school sweetheart Leo and his charming son, Finn. My two worlds never touched, or so I believed.
Then, a frantic call from David. Ethan was gone, a hit-and-run. My careful composure fractured, but I still played the part of the grieving mother. I performed sorrow, wearing a threadbare cardigan over my expensive dress, hoping to conceal my true life.
But David' s eyes, full of a pain I couldn' t counterfeit, saw through me. And then, Leo, my lover, let slip the horrifying truth: Finn, in the luxury car I' d bought him, was behind the wheel. My own son, dead, at the hands of the boy I' d chosen over him.
The carefully constructed walls of my indifference crumbled. Yet, the real blow came reading Ethan' s journal: his quiet dreams, his deep love for his father, and the heartbreaking entries about my blatant neglect. "Mom seems to like Finn more than me." His words, his uncomplaining endurance, shattered me more than any physical pain.
In that raw, desolate moment, surrounded by the remnants of my lies, a new, cold resolve ignited. They took my son. Now, I would make them pay. And I knew precisely how. Shattered Compass, Broken Empire
Xuanhuan I, Ethan Thorne, had quietly ensured my fiancée Seraphina Vance's family wealth for years.
It was a sacred pact, tied to my ancient Thorne Providence, a legacy of power I cherished.
At the grand ballroom, I sought Seraphina, only to find her locked in a passionate kiss with Marcus Blackwood.
She brazenly announced our breakup, publicly mocking me and our past, calling me a "relic."
Then, with chilling contempt, she desecrated our engagement compass, a powerful conduit for her family's prosperity, flicking it to the ground.
The crowd snickered, their whispers fueling her disdain, as she declared it "lost."
My heart, once bruised, solidified into cold, stark resolve as she deliberately shattered the compass, unwittingly destroying the very source of her family's fortune.
She still thought this was about her petty pride or common money, completely blind to the profound act she had just committed.
Unaware of the ancient force she had provoked, she laughed when I offered her a final chance to avert disaster, to simply pick up the pieces.
Then, I calmly revealed her fate: her company would plummet by thirty percent on Monday.
And for her new lover, Blackwood: a crippling leg cramp, within minutes.
He scoffed, mocking my "magic," but then screamed and collapsed, writhing in undeniable agony.
The lavish ballroom fell into a terrifying silence as everyone witnessed the brutal materialization of my words.
Seraphina, her face pale with dawning horror, finally saw the terrifying power she had irrevocably unleashed.
This chilling demonstration was just the first payment for her betrayal. You might like
The Unwanted Wife's Genius Comeback
Gertrude I flew cross-country for my birthday, hoping for just one night of warmth with my husband and five-year-old daughter.
But when I opened the door, I found my famous hockey star husband and my daughter acting like the perfect family with Dayna, a glamorous sports commentator.
My daughter shrank away from my open arms.
"Mama's boring. She never plays with me. Don't go, Auntie Dayna!"
My husband didn't even look up from his phone to wish me a happy birthday.
He coldly canceled our dinner plans, claiming he had an urgent, last-minute strategy meeting for his team.
Hours later, a TMZ article popped up on my phone, featuring a brutal photo of the three of them sharing a steak at an upscale Manhattan restaurant.
The headline praised Blake's "family dinner with rumored flame Dayna Nixon" and openly wondered where the current Mrs. Carlisle was.
My daughter lied for this, and my husband publicly humiliated me, treating my five years of silent sacrifice like a pathetic, disposable joke.
I didn't cry, and I didn't throw a desperate fit.
Instead, I calmly walked into his study, signed the pre-nuptial divorce agreement he had prepared years ago, and booked a one-way ticket back to Boston.
From now on, I am no longer Mrs. Carlisle. I am Corinne Sargent, and I am taking my life back. Flash Marriage to the Tycoon, I'm Spoiled Rotten
Hollow Echo Cast out by an "elite" family and mocked by high society, Elena shocked everyone by marrying the most powerful man in town.
They assumed it was a temporary arrangement-after all, he had said, "The agreement is for two years. After that, we're done."
Yet after the wedding, he refused to let her go. "Elena, you can't leave me."
As he doted on her, rumors shattered one by one. A renowned painter, top hacker, and tech mastermind-her true identities stunned the world.
When a luxury empire announced their lost heiress, all eyes turned to her. "Why did she look exactly like Elena?" Jilted Heiress: Marrying The Untouchable Tycoon
Piao Guo Allison Montgomery was waiting at the airport when an audio alert from her parked Range Rover flashed on her phone.
Assuming it was a break-in, she checked the live dashcam feed, only to see her fiancé, Finn, and her younger sister, Cheyanne, passionately making out in the backseat.
"Tell me I'm better than her," Cheyanne whispered. "Tell me I'm better than Allison."
"You are," Finn gasped. "God, you are."
When Allison confronted her family with the video, she expected justice.
Instead, her uncle and mother fiercely defended the cheaters.
They blamed Allison's "cold and frigid" nature for pushing Finn away, victim-blaming her in front of the entire household staff.
To protect their corporate alliance, her uncle ruthlessly announced that the engagement would be transferred to Cheyanne, and threatened to strip Allison of her inheritance.
Stripped of her fiancé, her family, and her dignity, Allison realized her pristine twenty-year life was a complete lie.
The people who were supposed to love her were actively protecting her abusers, leaving her utterly isolated and burning with a cold, protective rage.
Refusing to be their victim, Allison targeted Finn's ruthless, billionaire uncle, Adam Kensington, proposing a fake marriage to secure the capital needed to crush her family.
But when the notoriously untouchable Wall Street phantom not only accepted her proposal, but demanded she immediately move into his penthouse to raise his secret daughter, Allison realized she had just sold her soul to the devil. Betrayed Bride: Marrying The Ice Tyrant
Valeria On our third engagement anniversary, I bought my fiancé the watch he had wanted for months.
But my phone's location tracker led me to a secluded overlook, where I caught him rocking his car with another woman.
The woman in the passenger seat was my stepsister, Sienna.
When I exposed their affair, my adoptive parents didn't comfort me.
Instead, they called to scream at me for ruining the family's reputation.
They even rewrote history, claiming Sienna was the one who saved my fiancé from drowning six years ago, and I had stolen her credit.
Carter shamelessly agreed with their lies.
"She's been quietly supporting me all this time... I misunderstood."
I was disowned, thrown out into the freezing rain, and my adoptive father threatened to use his corporate empire to crush my small bakery.
I finally understood that to them, I was just a temporary placeholder, a stepping stone for Sienna to take everything I cherished whenever she pleased.
I refused to let them destroy me.
To protect my bakery and tear down their hypocritical lives, I walked into the penthouse of New York's most ruthless billionaire to propose a fake PR relationship.
But he slid a two-year marriage contract across the table instead.
Before I could fully process marrying a man I barely knew, a little blonde girl ran into the room and tugged at my dress.
"Are you my new mommy?" Bound To The Disabled Apocalyptic Tycoon
Star Cruiser Jessie's biological parents brought her back from a Rust Belt wasteland just to force her into marrying a paralyzed heir to save their bankrupt empire.
Three years later, when the global doomsday apocalypse hit, her own family shoved her into a swarm of infected corpses.
As she was being torn apart by mutated hounds, she was stunned by what she saw.
Her fake sister, Harley, was clutching the antique silver necklace she had stolen from Jessie-an heirloom that secretly contained a magical spatial dimension.
When the infected swarmed them, her biological mother didn't even look back.
"Jessie is just white trash, she is perfectly suited to buy us time to run!"
Harley used Jessie's stolen necklace to live in absolute safety and luxury, while Jessie's windpipe was ripped out in the rotting wasteland.
Until she died, Jessie didn't understand. She was their true flesh and blood.
Why did her parents hate her so much? Why was she sacrificed so easily while the fake daughter got everything?
Opening her eyes again, the blinding glare of a crystal chandelier stabbed into her retinas.
She was back in the Manhattan penthouse on the exact day they sold her off.
This time, Jessie calmly signed the marriage contract, demanded a one hundred million dollar buyout, and walked out to prepare for the apocalypse. 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. 
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