Suits Aces 3

Married To My Ex-Fiancé's Silent Uncle

Ming Yue

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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He sat quietly in the swivel chair while one hand played the red soft stress ball. He leaned back in his seat while waiting patiently for someone he hadn't talked to in a long time since after the Silver Game five years ago.

He rolled his eyes around his office. The place was spacious. The things he put in the office from the drawer, bookshelf, leather couches, glass centered table, paintings, cactus plant pot, computer sets, glass desk, air-conditioned environment, and his vintage cartridge were all expensive.

His gaze shifted to the door opening. He adjusted his eating, straightening his broad back. A woman with long straight hair like the color of the night entered. His deep dark blue eyes went to the woman"s outfit, a fitted purple tee shirt, high waist tattered black jeans, five inches black boots heels, and she's holding the black denim jacket on her arm.

"Am I too late, Windfall?" she asked him as she sat in the chair opposite him.

A broadened smile set on his face. "Not that long, Demise. And? Why does it bring you here?"

"I have something to ask of you," she said as the aura of her face changed. Gone is the bright smile and happy eyes settled on her face. Now he confirmed it's not as simple as what her expression look.

"What?" He seriously laid both arms on the desk, playing his chin with his hand.

He stared intently into her striking violet eyes. A natural inborn by her. Her red lips turn into a smirk. One of his eyebrows rose at what she did.

"I have something important to do. I'll leave my position being a leader for a year or so."

He could not believe what she had stated. What was it that made her leave for a few years?

"What! Are you serious of it, Demise?" His two eyebrows furrowed.

"Very serious, Windfall. About that thing, I'm going to beg you," she said while crossing her leg.

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