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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*Two years back*

“So you love my daughter?” Mr.Harsha Gupta asked him.

“I do, sir!” Suhas Agarkar replied.

“But I don’t accept you for my daughter at all.” Mr.Harsha said getting up.

“Why?” Suhas asked, confused and pestered, for some time to tell him the reason.

“You already know the answer for that Suhas. We all know what your father did.” Mr.Harsha didn’t want to talk about it, but he doesn’t have any other option.

“But I will never behave like him, and you must trust me.” Suhas pleaded.

“If my daughter didn’t say that you are a good friend to her, then I would have not even talked to you like this.” Mr.Harsha said looking at his daughter.

“This is about my daughter’s life, and I think all this love will be forgotten after some time. Then you will take your father ways.” Mr.Harsha added in surety.

“I will love her even after many years. I know she doesn’t love me, but I love her so much.” Suhas said confidently.

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