Married To My Ex-Fiancé's Silent Uncle

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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"Maren, haven't you ever noticed how much honor Nadia has brought our family? And look at yourself—all you've done is drag us down."

"Remember, Nadia once risked herself for you. It's time to return the favor."

"Save Nadia! Do whatever you wish with Maren."

"I also choose Nadia!"

"Same here."

At the grim outskirts, in an abandoned factory, Maren Morgan's wrists were bound tightly. She listened helplessly as her three brothers chose Nadia Morgan, her half-sister, over her.

Her final hope rested in Wilbur Thorpe, the fiance she had cherished deeply for over ten years, the man she'd shared a childhood with.

Wilbur stood nearby, impeccably dressed, his demeanor polished and aloof.

Their gazes connected briefly, but Wilbur's lips parted only to speak with brutal detachment. "My choice is Nadia. Touch her, and you'll regret it. As for Maren—she's meaningless to me. Do whatever you like."

Wilbur's ruthless disregard crushed Maren, slicing through her heart. She remembered clearly all she'd sacrificed to keep him alive, giving her blood repeatedly even when the doctors warned her she might not survive.

Though she'd anticipated his rejection, hearing his cold words shattered something deep inside her.

The pain was overwhelming—so much that she couldn't even speak.

All she could do was watch as Nadia burst into tears and threw herself into Wilbur's arms. The same man who had been cold and distant towards her was now tenderly brushing Nadia's tears away.

Her brothers surrounded Nadia protectively, showering her with affection, utterly blind to her distress.

No one cared about her. They did not even cast her a brief glance.

Instead, she faced leering kidnappers, their filthy bodies moving towards her with sinister anticipation.

"Who'd have guessed the Morgan family would dump their legitimate daughter just to protect an illegitimate one? Looks like gutter rats like us hit the jackpot tonight."

"Patience, boys—everyone gets a turn."

Maren backed against the wall, trapped.

Her throat burned from earlier cries, the taste of blood still fresh.

As her family celebrated Nadia's rescue, Maren felt the last thread of hope vanish.

She finally gave up.

Her mother's face flashed through her mind, and with it came a surge of strength. She was done living this nightmare.

In a sudden burst, Maren threw her head up and made a break for the wall.

But before she could get far, the lead kidnapper caught on. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her back with brutal force, cutting her attempt short.

Then, a fierce and stinging slap landed hard on Maren's face.

"Think again, bitch! We're not finished with you yet."

The brutal impact sent Maren spiraling into unconsciousness.

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