Claimed By The Uncle: My Sweet Revenge

Chapter 5 No.5

Word Count: 599 | Released on: 30/01/2026

Rain lashed against the tinted windows, blurring the g

d poured a vodka, downing it in on

not looking at her. "If you sold out the

mechanical. "Family interests? You mean the in

hand rattled against the coast

e opened the gallery. King had air-dropped t

grainy security photo of Presto

expensed it as 'Public Relations.' You're n

phone from her hand and smashed it against the wind

ips. "The phone shrieked and died. Carmella is worth ten

ken thing. "Is that right? Then why marry me? Oh, rig

He hit the intercom b

t. The car swerved to the shoulder, r

open. Rain and exhaust

rs and shoved her. "Get out! Walk

vement. She fell hard onto her knees in a puddle of oi

oor. "Don't expect me

way, spraying dirty

sharp, but the cold inside her chest was numbing. Cars

ins of her phone. It was completely dead

rain soaked through the expensive w

from the traffic flow. It rolled to

las looked out from the dr

r slid open

ed on his knees. The blue light illuminated th

id. "Unless you

r muddy hands. She gritted her teeth and climbed in, dragg

t, cutting off the

r, taking in the ruined suit, the bleeding scra

y in his eyes. O

softly. "You are

Chapter End

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Claimed By The Uncle: My Sweet Revenge

Mo Xiaoxiao Modern

“I was the "crazy girl" my family sent to a survivalist commune in Utah to rot. Four years later, I returned to Manhattan with a titanium USB drive and a heart full of ice, ready to blackmail the one man who could burn my family to the ground. But I underestimated how much they hated me. My fiancé, Preston, was already laundering money through my inheritance and sleeping with my replacement. He didn't even flinch when I showed him the evidence of his crimes. Instead, he grabbed me by the shoulders, smashed my phone, and shoved me out of his moving Lincoln into a midnight storm. I hit the wet pavement hard, my knees scraping against the asphalt as I watched him drive away, laughing about how I was a "dirt-poor exile" that nobody wanted. Within minutes, my credit cards were flagged as stolen and my father's lawyers were drafting a statement calling me mentally unstable. I was left shivering in a puddle of oily sludge, wearing a ruined Chanel suit, with no money, no home, and no one to hear me scream. I couldn't understand how they could be so cruel. I was their flesh and blood, yet they treated me like a broken toy to be discarded in the trash. I was a "distressed asset" in a city that only valued gold. That's when a black armored SUV pulled to the curb. King Wagner-the ruthless shark of Wall Street and Preston's own uncle-looked at my muddy face with cold, calculating eyes. He didn't offer me pity; he offered me a leash. "You belong to me now," he whispered, pulling me into the dry warmth of his car. By the next morning, he had announced our engagement to the world, turning me into the very weapon that would slit my family's throat.”