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 CEO Flash Marriage Revenge Age Gap

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Edmund - fortunate protector, wealthy guardian

Thea - God's gift

It was cold. My skin was freezing under my torn and dirty tunic. I could feel fine raindrops falling on me. It was more like a fog, making everything look gloomy and grey and making me shiver in my humid clothing. I suppose it was midday. I don't know. I haven't lifted my eyes for hours. The only thing that indicated it, was constantly growing chatting and shouting around me. People were coming to the marketplace to get some goods - vegetables, fruits, tools, and slaves. And I was one of them. A slave. I think that is the only purpose for me in my short life. Since I can remember, I have been working as a slave. I think it will be for seven years. Though, sometimes I am not even sure about it. I have never attended a school or learned anything useful, reading, counting. Just basic stuff, but not enough to function on my own. Right now I was sitting on a tiny stack of hay, waiting for somebody to buy me. I didn't want to go to another place. I just wanted to not exist. No one has ever taken care of me. I had to endure the hard work, everywhere I went. Different owners, different rich people houses. But the attitude everywhere was the same - cold and cruel. Like I was not a human. They beat me, gave me food, just enough for me to stay alive. I was living worse than a dog. I just wanted to die. There is nothing in my life, that keeps me here. I will not survive in another place. This time I will not last.

I could hear some people talking near me, discussing the prices for other ones, that were here with me. I hold my head low and made no eye contact with anyone. I didn't want to be chosen.

I felt someone's hand examining my black, greasy hair. I didn't bother to look up. I just wanted them to leave.

"We are buying this one!" I heard the voice of a young boy.

"Why! Look, she is tiny, just skin and bones. She will not last long. You don't need her. We can find someone better if you need." a low man's voice responded to him.

"Dad, I said I want her."

A boy sounded so confident. Like he held some power over everyone else. Even over his father, I assumed. His statement was clear, his voice stern and demanding. I felt his small hand touch my shoulder, as he shook me to get my attention, but I gave him none. I just didn't want to be chosen.

"Hey, look at me!" he ordered.

I didn't budge.

"See, she is totally disobedient. You are gonna regret if you take her." his old man said again.

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