Flash Marriage To The Coldhearted Billionaire Uncle

Author: Ariel Bruckman

Chapter 1

Word Count: 876 | Released on: Today at 18:36

Dr. Fletcher." Ariel Melton gripped the phone so hard

"Ariel, I've pushed it as far as I can. NewYo

nce ringing in her ears. Five hundred thousand dollars. It might as well have been five h

rick's study. Her knuckles were white a

ng a glass of amber whiskey. He didn't look up immediately.

hated the tremor, but she coul

his whiskey. "My hel

lars. It's her only chance." Ariel stepped closer to the desk, her hands clasped together

clink. He laughed. It was a short, cru

blems are not my

ting her like a physical blow. "What? Garrick, she'

e walked to the desk and yanked open a drawer. He pulled out a thi

e bold black letters on th

an cold. "W

standing right in front of her, looking down at her with pure disgust. "Three y

into her stomach. Ariel flinched, the s

r is worthless," he said, his voice low and venom

s her fault, was now being thrown in her face. "I went to the doctors," she whispered, her throat tight.

ts." Garrick stepped back, his lip c

reight train. Lacey Thorne.

breathe. Betrayal and humiliat

the divorce papers. "Sign it. Walk away with nothing. That

p anger. "Three years," she choked out. "I gave y

you because the Melton name still carried some weight, even if your father

d out a checkbook. He clicked a pen, scri

desk. It spun and landed

ousand

ent short of saving

rrick said, turning back to his whisk

refused to let fall. Five thousand dollars. That was what her dignity

orce papers. She raised her head and stared at Garrick

d out of the study. Every step felt

ough for a fleeting second, Ariel thought she saw a flicker of pity in the older woman's eyes before it

ening. Ariel stepped over the threshold, the c

nd her, locking her out in

Chapter End

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Flash Marriage To The Coldhearted Billionaire Uncle

Ariel Bruckman Romance

“My mother was dying and desperately needed a half-million-dollar deposit for an experimental heart surgery by tomorrow. I swallowed my pride and begged my wealthy husband, Garrick, to save her life. Instead of helping, he laughed coldly and threw a thick stack of divorce papers right in my face. "A hen that can't lay eggs gets slaughtered," he sneered, ruthlessly poking my flat stomach. He revealed that his secretary, my supposed friend Lacey, was already pregnant with his heir. To him, our three years of marriage was just a business transaction, and now that my family was bankrupt, I was nothing but damaged goods. He flicked a humiliating five-thousand-dollar check at me as his final act of charity, then locked me out of our townhouse into the freezing, pouring rain. I had spent years enduring agonizing hormone treatments for a fertility issue that wasn't even my fault, only to be discarded like trash when I needed him the most. Was my dignity, my absolute devotion, and my mother's life really worth nothing to him? Driven by pure, reckless desperation, I threw myself directly into the path of a moving Rolls-Royce Phantom on Fifth Avenue. It belonged to Holden Tillman, the ruthless patriarch of the Tillman empire-and the uncle Garrick lived in absolute terror of. I thought I was walking into my death, but instead, I became his fiancée, ready to make Garrick and Lacey pay for every tear I shed.”