Teen drama

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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Nicole Vargas

"That's a lot of money, Nicole!" My dad looked displeased at me as he opened his bank account and saw how much money I had spent. "For all I know, you have everything you need. Why do you need to keep on buying stuff?!"

"Papai, I don't!" I muttered looking down at my perfectly polished toes. "It's only sixty-five thousand real."

"Only sixty-five thousand! Are you out of your mind?! That's a lot of money!" he seethed angrily. "Give me your credit card. You will not buy anything for the next two weeks!"

"But dad...," I whined, tears brimming in my eyes. This can't be happening right now. Not when the big ball approaches. "I need to buy a dress for the elite ball next week. And shoes. And makeup!"

"You have a whole store with shoes, clothes, and makeup in your room. You even have three walk-in closets. Choose something you already have."

"But it will be so out of style, dad. Please let me use it for this once. I promise I will not spend that much anymore." I pleaded.

He shook his head. "You already said that the last time. And all the other five times. You're twenty-three and graduated, how can you still be so irresponsible?"

"I'm not irresponsible. I can't help that everything I see is so alluring. It basically calls me to buy it. You know it's hard for me to say no."

"Well, you need to learn to say no to all the alluring stuff. Only buy what you need. Now, you are dismissed, I have work to do. You don't get your card back."

"But papai---," I cried out.

"No arguments Nicole. I already made my decision. You don't know how to spend money, you don't get your credit card back." he said sternly and pointed his finger at the door. "Now, get out of my office, because I need to earn that sixty-five thousand real back."

I grunted angrily and stomped out of his office. I was so mad at him. He earns that money every fifteen minutes, I don't see what's the big deal. Next week there's going to be a big ball where all the billionaires and their families are going to be. It's a really fancy and elite ball and now I don't have anything to wear.

I walked into my bedroom and angrily started to turn on my music, the volume all the way up. Look what you made me do of Taylor Swift blasted in my room and probably through the whole penthouse.

"What is wrong with you, Nicole?" My mom yelled above the music as she barged into my room. "Why are you throwing another tantrum?"

I turned the volume down and huffed. "Dad took away my credit card."

"You spent so much money in three days. What did you expect?" She placed her hands on her hips and cocked an eyebrow.

"Don't take his side."

"Of course I will. You graduated Bachelor of Arts in Fashion Design. Do something with that degree and earn your own money."

I rolled my eyes and plopped down on my king-sized bed. I love Fashion and I loved the field I majored in, but I wasn't feeling to work in Brazil anymore. Everyone knows me, since my dad is the CEO of Brazil's most popular hotel and casino chains. The Vargas.

They would only give me the job because I was his daughter and not because of my degree. My dad also asked me a million times why I didn't want to have my own boutique, he had his connections to make it a reality.

How much I really wanted it, I didn't want to achieve my success through my parents. I wanted to do my own thing and be successful on my own. But If I stay longer in Brazil, I can't achieve my dreams and my dad wasn't ready to let me go yet.

How much I really annoy him and scare the living hell out of him when he sees the amount of money I spent on my shopping trips, he still loved me unconditionally.

"I already told you mamãe, I don't want to open my business here." I sighed, covering my face with my hands. "You know the reason already."

"If it's because of papai then it's a really dumb reason. He can't help that he's so well known. Brazil is also a really good place to start your business. You're familiar with the place." Mom reasoned.

"It's not only papai. It's also you, you're a popular artist. Your work is displayed in all art museums." I got up from my bed and faced my mom. "And by the way, I want a challenge."

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