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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"Elliana, remember what I told you. Until you turn twenty, never show your beauty or your talents."

For fifteen years, Elliana Marsh lived by her mother's final words. She made herself look plain and acted like she knew nothing—just to blend into the background.

But today was her twentieth birthday. And she was ready to let go of the old Elliana and showcase her true self.

She filled the tub with warm water, added some bath salts, and set her makeup remover nearby. Just as she started undressing for a long, relaxing soak to wash off the ugly makeup, a loud knock ruined the peace.

Irritated, she threw on a robe and opened the door.

Melody Ahmed, the maid, stood there, nose in the air as usual. "Elliana, what are you sneaking around in here for? It's Miss Jones's wedding day. If you don't show up, people will start whispering and potentially tarnish the Jones family's image. Go to the front hall, now!"

Elliana smirked derisively. This maid had never been polite to her. Saying she sneaked around was hardly accurate. Truthfully, she had been pushed into that back room for fifteen years since her mother's death. After her mother's passing, her stepmother, Kiara Jones, and her father and Kiara's illegitimate daughter, Paige Jones, wasted no time joining the Jones family and took over everything.

The worst part? Not even Elliana's father, Darin Jones, treated her the way she deserved.

"I'll go change," Elliana said calmly.

Melody scoffed. "What's the point? With that ugly face of yours, no dress can save you. Move it! The Evans family's already here. The City Hall staff members are on-site to collect the materials to register the marriage between Mr. Evans and Miss Jones. Mrs. Jones wants everyone present for the big moment."

Elliana's lips curled into a cold smile.

The Evans family was the most powerful in Ublento. Cole Evans, their heir, was a business genius. Paige was the city's favorite socialite. Of course, their engagement was all over the news. People called them a perfect couple. A match made in heaven. Every compliment in the book was used to describe them. Social media was going wild. Everyone was waiting for their grand wedding.

Kiara made it sound proper and grand, but Elliana knew the truth—she was simply dragged out to watch Paige shine.

Elliana got changed and followed Melody to the front hall.

The Jones family's residence looked like a palace, dressed in over-the-top luxury to celebrate Paige's big day.

Everyone in the room wore elegant outfits, except Elliana. She stood out like a sore thumb in a cheap white T-shirt, ripped jeans, and hideous makeup. She didn't just clash with the scene—she crashed it.

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