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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.
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Rebel Simmons was just a girl who was dealt a shitty hand in the game of life. Despite her harsh and abusive upbringing, she worked hard, and studied harder. With an IQ of 252. she's a certified genius and is working towards her Masters Degree in Computer Engineering and Computer Science at Stanfor
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Husband By Error
Series One: On her wedding day, Isabella Hernando stared into the mirror and wondered- how could she possibly marry someone she barely remembered? Miguel Martez, the man she was arranged to wed, was only a childhood friend who had long since disappeared. But just before the ceremony was about to b
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Literary Blunders: A Chapter in the History of Human Error""
By 1898, books had become more affordable than they had been in the past, leading to greater literacy and a barometer of society's cultural and intellectual status. Using price points to trace the history of publishing and reading, the author considers manuscript prices, booksellers, auctions throug
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