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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(Bella)

It's my two years anniversary this coming weekend and I've been ecstatic about it. My marriage to Dean has been blissful, peaceful and above all our love grew each passing day.

The doorbell rings, pulling me out of my thoughts, I smile knowing Ashley, my best friend is here, I applied my lipstick and take a quick glance at the mirror before hurrying downstairs.

Dean's out on an important business trip and Ashley's inviting me for a girl's night out.

Honestly, I'm in no mood for alcohol, I haven't been feeling too good but Ashley's insisting, and thinking about it now, she's right, it's been long we stepped out. So yeah.

"Hi, darling," I say with a wide smile, giving Ashley a quick kiss on the cheeks. "How do I look?" I spread my arms, expecting her praises.

Her eyes darts on me for a while and then a smile forms. "You look -stunning, as always." She says, her smile spreading across her face.

"Thank you, boo. You look as stunning yourself," I reply and then I tilted my head. "Where are we going?" I ask.

"It's a surprise, but a good time is assured," she says, her smile still in place.

"Alright, but Ash I'm not drinking too much tonight, haven't been feeling too good lately," I say just in case. "Plus you know I'm not good with alcohol,"

"Roger that, now after you," she winks as we exit my penthouse.

******

My eyes slowly opens, adjusting to the light in the room, I'm in bed, and in a strange room.

I straightened up quickly and turned to see Ashley sleeping beside me, and only then did I breath out in relief.

God, last night was--- I can barely even remember a thing, the only thing that I can remember was entering the club with Ashley, laughing and talking through the loud music and then me slowly sipping my first drink.

Everything goes blank afterwards, like it's been erased from my memory or something. I guess I had too much of that amber liquid.

My head hurts, my body feels like it's been hit by a freight train, I'm staying off alcohol for a long time.

Ashley stirs beside me and slowly opens her eyes. "You're awake," she says with a yawn.

I nod but then I ask. "How did I end up here?" I raise my brows, skeptical.

Ashley shrug it off. "We both had much to drink, couldn't drive in that state, so I figured we should crash here,"

I nod again, not remembering anything isn't even helpful at all but I'm grateful Ashley has us sorted out.

"Thanks, Ash. We should wash up and leave, I need to pickup Dean's anniversary gift," a smile finds it's way to my face as I say this.

Ashley gives me a tiny smile. "Right, we should."

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