Married To My Ex-Fiancé's Silent Uncle

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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It was 11 o'clock in the Night Club.

Just as the club's name suggested, the atmosphere was hot and heavy. The DJ quickly pumped up some sick beats as a slender and attractive woman appeared on the stage.

She swayed her hips, posing in front of the crowd. They responded with a loud cheer, raising their drinks high in the air. Wearing a veil, the woman bowed to the audience and turned to a dancing pole, rotating her body to the beat.

Her body was as lithe as a snake when she bent around the pole, displaying her clear and luscious skin. Although her face was covered, the audience could see the seductive star beneath the veil. She was enchanting, like a nymph calling for the gods.

From the way she moved, it felt as if she owned the entire stage. All eyes followed the woman as she swayed to the beat. It seemed that the club had just grown hotter and hotter by the minute.

Arvin Xue sat in one of the special guest boxes of the bar. He took a cigarette from the table and placed it in his mouth. Just then, a man approached to light it up for him. "She's quite a skillful dancer, Mr. Xue," the man remarked.

Yet Arvin Xue shrugged, blowing a small cloud of smoke. He tapped the edge of the cigarette. "She's still too young to push it to the next level," he said roughly.

The pole dancing was over. Although the performance was short, the dancer was drenched with her sweat. Her body glistened under the colored lights as she took the microphone from the DJ.

She took off the veil, and everybody held their breath. "Thank you all." Her soft voice echoed throughout the bar. "See you tomorrow night!"

For a minute, the room had gone silent.

Under the veil was a gorgeous woman. Her face was definitely proportionate, with each aspect of her face ready to send any man to his knees. The curves that hugged her body added to the entire glamour. She really was a goddess in disguise.

However, the man next to Arvin Xue stiffened. He slowly craned his neck towards the man. "Mr. Xue... That lady..."

Arvin Xue shot him a cruel glare that rendered him silent.

As he saw who the dancer was, he immediately left the cigarette on the ashtray and stomped out of the VIP box. The man yelled his name behind him, but it was to no avail.

Given his height and his muscled stature, people were afraid to block his path.

Arvin Xue rushed to the first floor without another thought. Soon enough, he pushed his way through the crowd before he finally reached the main stage.

Belinda Qin was still flirting with the audience, shooting them winks and smiles every now and then. However, she froze when she saw Arvin Xue standing right in front of her.

"What are you doing? Hey!"

Before she could respond, Arvin seized her wrist and dragged her out of the stage. Belinda Qin tried resisting, but it was to no avail.

"Oh, God! Let go!"

She was dragged several steps from the platform, struggling. Her arm was already aching as the people stared, wide-eyed, at the spectacle unfolding before them.

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