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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.
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Gray's Siren
Cassidy Trevor Gray, after being dumped at the aisle by his fiancee develops a hatred for the female race and vows to reign his wrath on any female that crosses his path. Due to his past grievances with his ex, he developed a sadistic desire to dominate women, being the only way he derives sexual pl
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A Siren
Thomas Adolphus Trollope was born on the April 29th, 1810 in Bloomsbury, London. He was the eldest son to the barrister, Thomas Anthony, and writer Frances Milton (middle names are crucial as there are many writers in the Trollope family) and is the older brother to Anthony Trollope. Thomas had a fi
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Alpha's Luna is a Fae-Siren Mage!
When the alpha (her 1st mate) saw her, he quickly rejected her, thinking she was a human girl. But no, she isn't. She is a siren-the last and most powerful one to ever exist. Her second chance mate is also an alpha, and he does the opposite of her first mate. However, she cannot produce him an heir
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The Masked Siren: Seducing My Enemy
I woke up in Augustine Haynes’s high-thread-count gray sheets, my head throbbing and my throat dry. I told him last night wasn't just about the alcohol, but he didn't even look at me as he tightened his silk tie, treating me like a piece of displaced furniture. He thought I was just a girl from the
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