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Claimed By My Fiancé's Ruthless Uncle

Author: Cinderella's Sister

Chapter 1 No.1

Word Count: 1180 | Released on: 20/01/2026

lection staring back-a woman composed of hairspray, silk, and desperate patience. She opened the "Find My Friends" app. The l

enth time, she adjusted the white rose in the center of the table. Her finger brushed against a p

The crystal glasses gleamed under the dim chandelier light, reflecting the cold, empty perfection of the penthouse dining room. Beyond the floor-to-c

ck in the hallway c

s two ho

of her dress, her palms

self. Just smile. I

or lock turning was like

he rug. She walked toward the foyer, her heels clicking on the

ir and the faint, sweet scent of bourbon. He didn't look at her. He

oice soft, practiced. She reache

ung the cashmere coat on the rack himself, the fabric rustling ag

bounced from the coat rack to the floor, th

ping back to give him space. "I t

er, loosening his tie. He headed straight

ulders. He sat down at the head of the table, not noticing the f

ar to pour the wine. The dark red liquid

picking up his napkin and

his right, close enough to touch him, but she kep

blinked, a slow, painful movement, as if his brain was grinding gears t

lass and took a large swallow, treating the vintage

d for

ise. It was just a heavy, familiar weight. She forced the smil

aid quietly. "It fee

e steak she had prepared, the knife

sed around the velvet box. The edges were sharp against her skin. This was it. The t

nd pushed it gently toward him. It was

it were a live grenade. His throat worked as he sw

s?" His voic

, breezy. "With the merger coming up between our fam

te, sending a spray of red sauce onto the pristin

ed backward, teetering on two legs bef

hysically, but her in

e alcohol and anger mixing under his skin. "Pressure, pressure, p

voice trembling slightly. "It's just a con

messing it up. "I can't deal with a wedding right now. The market is volatile, th

sa saw it. The disgust. It wasn't just stress. He lo

peated, the word

from the table. He didn't even look at

haven't e

" He turned and marc

ak. She followed him to the foyer.

on, just bunching it in his fist. He opened

" he said. He d

ed through the penthouse, vibrating i

nce of the apartment rushed back in, suffocating her. She walked back to the din

box. It was still closed.

ord right now. She felt a cold, clinical clarity wash over her. It wasn't just fe

Chapter End

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Claimed By My Fiancé's Ruthless Uncle

Cinderella's Sister Modern

“I spent our third anniversary alone in our penthouse, adjusting a white rose and waiting for a man who didn't want to come home. When my fiancé, Chris Osborne, finally arrived, he didn't notice the 1982 Lafite or the dinner I'd prepared. He looked at me with disgust, calling my desire for a wedding date "pressure" before storming out to a private club. I followed him, hiding behind a marble pillar at The Vault as I recorded his voice on my phone. He was laughing with his friends about a $20 million bet. He called me a "boring ice queen" and a "marble statue," explaining that he only needed to keep me around until the merger closed so he could steal my shares and "cut me loose." To make it worse, my own father was in on it, prioritizing his stock price over his daughter's life. Broken and barefoot in a torrential Manhattan downpour, I sought refuge at the Four Seasons. I collapsed into the arms of a tall, dangerous-looking stranger and begged him to take me upstairs. I wanted to be erased, to forget the transaction my life had become. After a night of salt and desperation, I left my engagement ring on his nightstand as payment for services rendered and fled. The next morning, I realized I had jumped from the frying pan into the furnace. My "stranger" wasn't a nobody. He was Gallagher Osborne-the ruthless patriarch of the family and my fiancé's uncle. He tracked me to a private clinic, trapping me in a room while holding my medical file and the ring I'd discarded. He told me I was his now, and that he'd dismantle Chris piece by piece if I didn't comply. I was a piece of currency to my father, a bet to my fiancé, and a prize to his uncle. I had no allies, no escape, and no mercy left. I realized that being the "perfect daughter" had only made me a target. If they wanted to play games with the "Ice Queen," I decided to give them a frostbite they would never forget. I trashed my art gallery, backdated a diagnosis for a psychotic break, and sent a cryptic suicide note to Chris. As Gallagher watched from the shadows and Chris panicked over his investment, I began the process of scorching the earth. The merger was still happening, but I wasn't the bride anymore-I was the wrecking ball.”