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

Download the Book on the App

Meadow's POV

"Hi. I have a reservation. Meadow Russell."

The receptionist raised her gaze to look at me, and then she jerked back slightly, eyes raking over me from top to bottom. Her deep red-colored lips were pulled down in a sneer.

"You're kidding, right?" she scoffed, turning to the lady beside her who had a similar expression on her face.

I blinked, frowning. "Excuse me?"

The receptionists exchanged another look that made my skin crawl. What the hell was wrong with them? All I wanted to do was get the keys to my room and wait for my fiance, Tyler.

We were getting married in a few hours. It was going to be a private ceremony, just me and him. And I wasn't going to let anyone shit on my plans-much less a couple of rude receptionists.

The red-lipped receptionist tilted her head at me. "You already checked in two hours ago. If this is some kind of prank, I'd suggest you quit it now before I call security."

My brows furrowed. "What? I haven't checked in." A nervous laugh escaped my mouth.

The second receptionist glanced at me as if she was considering something, and then she turned to red lip. "Show her."

Red lip scowled at me, but she did as she was told. She turned her laptop to face me, clicking on a button. And then she pointed at something.

The check-in list.

And sure enough, my name was there. Meadow Russell.

"Oh," I let out a laugh. "It's probably my fiance. He must have checked in with my name. I was supposed to get here before him though, that's why I'm so surprised."

The receptionists exchanged another look. They seemed confused.

"That's not a funny joke, miss," the second receptionist said. "You checked in with a man two hours ago. I know that because I complimented that cute top you're wearing."

I glanced down at the white crop top with the word, "BRIDE" written across it.

Tyler had gotten me this top a few days ago. He said he saw it and thought it would look really good for the wedding.

"And then you said you're getting married real soon," red lip finished for her.

Something heavy-along with my heart-dropped into my stomach. Something was wrong.

"This has to be a misunderstanding..." I trailed off.

Because there was no way... No fucking way.

"That wasn't me," I said firmly this time.

They exchanged another glance, and when they both looked at me, I could see something resembling pity in their expression.

I didn't like that look. At all.

Finally, Red lip sighed. "I don't know why, but I believe you. Then she leaned backward to search for something.

She emerged with a key card. "I hope you get things sorted out," she muttered, forcing a smile on her face.

I couldn't breathe the entire way up the elevator.