Bolanle

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 CEO Flash Marriage Revenge Age Gap

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At night.

A cool breeze gently rolled up the curtains on the second floor of the villa.

Tammy's scarred face hung with tears, and her tiny, naked body lay shivering in the strong man's arms. She was too shy to look up at him.

Today was her wedding night. Just now, she ended the transformation from a girl to a woman.

The man holding her in his arms at the moment was her husband Angus, a man could drive all women crazy.

She had loved him for fifteen years.

In the darkness, Angus stared at the little woman in his arms. His deep black eyes contained a coolness that was hard for others to guess.

He stroked her soft hair and murmured, "Tammy, I'm sorry I hurt you."

Although when they were having sex, she hadn't been crying out in pain, she was holding back her tears. She looked so aggrieved that it hurt him a little.

Tammy shook her head gently. Her face blushed.

Although he was gentle, the pain was inevitable because it was her first time.

However, she was happy enough that he didn't mind the scars on her face and that she was a poor little girl who had been living in exile for ten years.

There was a ding, and his phone rang.

Angus took the phone, looked at it, frowned, turned his head and said, "Tammy, I'm going out for a few minutes and I will come back soon. Wait for me."

He bowed his head and gently kissed on her forehead.

Angus switched on the light and got out of bed, tucking Tammy in and picking up a robe from the side and putting it on.

Tammy watched as he left the room.

Without his embrace, she was suddenly lost. She gripped the blanket restlessly at her chest. Her thin shoulders were out of the quilt, and they were covered with the marks of their love and affection.

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