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Marrying My Ex's Ruthless Billionaire Uncle

Chapter 3 

Word Count: 525    |    Released on: Today at 17:26

. Pushed by Tiffany's screaming and his mother's outrage, he a

's en

ice cut through the chaos

adow over the hallway. He wore a bespoke charcoal three-piece suit, looking every inch the ruthless, untouchable predat

had never seen the legendary Abdiel Sharpe in person, and the sheer ma

ghtly. "This girl is Alastair's ex. She came here begging for mo

nervously. "Uncle Abdiel, she was c

hoing on the marble floor. He didn't spare his sister or his nephe

that sent a shiver straight down Emaline's spine. "But you three ganging u

face until he looked like a corpse. "Uncle,

manded, his tone leaving absol

ke a stranded fish. "Apologize? To this bankrupt little tra

yes darkened into twin pools of midnight, the tem

el could crush his logistics company with a single phone call. He tur

terrupted smoothly, adjusting his plat

e, his jaw clenched tight

hair across her face and biting viciously through her thin satin jacket. She looked Alastair dead in the eye, h

"We are done. As of this exact second, the engagement is completely off. From this moment forward, we have absolutely nothing

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Marrying My Ex's Ruthless Billionaire Uncle
Marrying My Ex's Ruthless Billionaire Uncle
“My name is Emaline Knight, and I have the worst luck in Manhattan. Twenty-four hours ago I had a fiancé, a future, and a family name worth something. Then my father went bankrupt in a federal scandal, my mother landed in the ICU, and my darling Alastair dumped me by text message-like I was a streaming subscription he forgot to cancel. Did I mention he replaced me with a walking malpractice suit named Tiffany? So yes, I had a few tequilas. And yes, I may have informed the most dangerous man in the city that if I couldn't be Alastair's wife, I'd settle for becoming his aunt. That's how I ended up in the bed of Abdiel Sharpe-the billionaire who owns half of Manhattan and terrifies the other half. He left at dawn without a goodbye. Fine. Whatever. I had bigger problems: my mother's hospital bill was due at five o'clock, and I couldn't afford to keep her alive. I begged at the Hayes mansion. They sneered at me. They called me trash. And then the man I'd slept with-the uncle of the man who broke my heart-walked in, made them grovel, and warned them all to stay out of his sight. He gave me a job at his club. He tried to hand me a million dollars; I handed it back. He keeps appearing like an expensive storm, ruining anyone who dares to lay a hand on me. I keep telling myself he's a one-night mistake with an excellent tailor. But he looks at me like he owns me. And the worst part? Some dark, traitorous part of me wants him to. They say don't bite the hand that feeds you. But I'm not the one biting. He is. Right on my neck.”