Flash Marriage To The Coldhearted Billionaire Uncle

Chapter 2

Word Count: 809 | Released on: Today at 18:36

own Fifth Aven

skin, but she felt nothing. The numbness had spread from her chest

of dirty water splashed across her legs, the

lying in a hospital bed, dying. She co

d. Then another. None of them stopped. In this rain, in this part of

other hospital, another doctor, anyone. The scree

onnecting her to

shing away her hope. She was alone. She had no m

moving slowly down the avenue. Three sleek, bla

-Royce

roat as her eyes locked onto th

LMA

t didn't belong to Garrick. It belonged to the real king

Saint. Cold, aloof, and utterly ruthless. Garrick lived in terror of him. Everything

more humiliating than dying in the street. But then she saw he

y thing she had lef

dy moved. She lunged off the curb, arms spread wid

ber mixed with the rain. The massive car

black suits jumped out, hands hovering near their wa

of the Phantom r

ted by the dashboard lights was unforgettable. Sharp cheekbones, a str

allroom, surrounded by people who treated him like royalty. Up clo

a military buzzcut stepped out, his eyes hard a

icle," Holloway ordered, his v

ooked past Holloway, directly into Holden's icy eyes. "Mr. T

He just looked at her, his gaze slowly traveling

yelled, her voice breaking.

couldn't tell if the hot drops rollin

d her, ready to physically

nd d

, but it carried the weight of absolu

he silence stretched, filled only by th

t i

Ariel, they sounded like a lif

Ariel didn't hesitate. She scrambled into the warm, d

side the car was deafening. The only sound was Ariel

o a compartment and pulled out a soft, gray cashmere blanket. H

n said to the driver

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.”