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Married To My Ex-Fiancé's Silent Uncle

Ming Yue

Twenty minutes before the "Wedding of the Century" at The Plaza, I stood outside the Presidential Suite in a fifty-thousand-dollar Vera Wang gown. I was the girl from a West Virginia trailer park about to marry Hugh Maxwell, the golden heir to a billion-dollar defense empire. I pushed the door open only to find Hugh pinned against the bed with my own stepsister, Floy. She was wearing my bridal diamond necklace, and the sounds of their laughter scraped against my eardrums like sandpaper. I didn't scream; I listened as Hugh grunted that once the wedding was over and the trust fund unlocked, he'd dump "that hillbilly trash" on a bus back to the mountains. They weren't just cheating; they were planning to steal my family's land deeds and leave me with nothing. When I set off the sprinklers and exposed their naked bodies to the paparazzi, the Maxwell family didn't apologize. They called me a "greedy peasant" and threatened to ruin my life unless I signed a new deal to save their crashing stock. I realized then that I was never a bride to them. I was a transaction, a rounding error in a ledger to be used and discarded. They thought my poverty made me weak and my silence made me a victim. "If we don't have a marriage certificate by midnight, the bank freezes thirty percent of our liquidity," their lawyer warned. So, I gave them exactly what they wanted. I used a loophole in their hundred-year-old family covenant and married the only other direct heir available. I didn't marry Hugh. I walked into the ICU and married his uncle, Fleet Maxwell-the legendary war hero who had been in a vegetative state for months. Now, I am the matriarch of the Maxwell dynasty. I've suspended Hugh's executive powers, exiled my mother-in-law to the Swiss Alps, and taken control of the family vault. They think I'm just a gold-digger waiting for a "corpse" to die so I can collect a fifty-million-dollar widow's payout. But last night, as I lay beside my comatose husband, the man they called a vegetable gripped my hand back.

Modern Scheming Contract marriage Billionaires

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Prologue.

Abigail started working as a maid in The Williams's mansion a couple of months ago in order to earn money to pay for her mum's surgery. Sarah, her mother, was diagnosed with breast cancer.

Unintentionally, Abby developed feelings for Liam Williams, the only son and heir to The Williams's empire.

Liam was also attracted to her but they both decided to ignore the tingling sensations and sparks that flew between them because they were people from different worlds. Abigail kept reminding herself that she was there to work and earn and not to fall in love.

Fortunately and unfortunately, they unleashed their burning desire in one night. They broke the rule, they had sex and words couldn't describe how amazing it felt for both of them. They couldn't get enough of each other.

The next morning, Abigail woke up in her room in the servant quarters and instead of opening her eyes to see Liam beside her, she saw a paper.

The paper was not so neatly folded and out of curiosity, she reached for it and opened it.

She blushed when she saw the unique cursive handwriting. It was Liam's and she could recognize it anywhere.

As soon as she started reading the words scribbled on the paper, her blush disappeared and from nowhere, heavy tears welled up in her eyes.

Liam made it clear that what happened between them the previous night was a mistake that should never have occurred so she should forget that something like that ever took place.

Abby tore the paper into big pieces, squeezed them all together and threw it across her room in anger, not caring where it landed.

Then she buried her face into her pillow and cried...............

Seconds became minutes and days became weeks. Abigail made several attempts to talk to Liam but he always ignored her and treated her as if she never existed, until he left for Australia, for his masters, without saying goodbye.

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