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Get the APPA New Dawn Life After A Betrayal
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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.Hoy era el día de mi boda, el día más feliz de mi vida, o al menos eso creía.
Mi teléfono vibró y la voz de mi prometido, Ricardo, al otro lado de la línea, heló mi corazón.
"No voy a ir, Sofía. Se acabó. Estoy con alguien a quien realmente amo, alguien que no es una diseñadora fracasada como tú."
Y entonces, escuché su voz.
"Ricardo, mi amor, cuelga ya, tenemos cosas más importantes que hacer."
Era Valeria, mi propia hermana.
El mundo se derrumbó a mis pies, y después, la oscuridad.
Desperté en un hospital, el dolor en mi cabeza y en mi alma era insoportable.
Laura, mi dama de honor, me mostró la pantalla de su teléfono.
Ricardo y Valeria, besándose apasionadamente en Instagram, rumbo a París.
"Empezando la verdadera aventura con el amor de mi vida, mi Valeria. Te compré el taller de tus sueños."
Y la foto de mi sueño, el local de mi taller, con un letrero de "Vendido".
Corrí al baño, vaciando mi estómago mientras la humillación me consumía.
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