Claimed By My Fiancé's Ruthless Uncle

I spent our third anniversary alone in our penthouse, adjusting a white rose and waiting for a man who didn't want to come home. When my fiancé, Chris Osborne, finally arrived, he didn't notice the 1982 Lafite or the dinner I’d prepared. He looked at me with disgust, calling my desire for a wedding date "pressure" before storming out to a private club. I followed him, hiding behind a marble pillar at The Vault as I recorded his voice on my phone. He was laughing with his friends about a $20 million bet. He called me a "boring ice queen" and a "marble statue," explaining that he only needed to keep me around until the merger closed so he could steal my shares and "cut me loose." To make it worse, my own father was in on it, prioritizing his stock price over his daughter's life. Broken and barefoot in a torrential Manhattan downpour, I sought refuge at the Four Seasons. I collapsed into the arms of a tall, dangerous-looking stranger and begged him to take me upstairs. I wanted to be erased, to forget the transaction my life had become. After a night of salt and desperation, I left my engagement ring on his nightstand as payment for services rendered and fled. The next morning, I realized I had jumped from the frying pan into the furnace. My "stranger" wasn't a nobody. He was Gallagher Osborne—the ruthless patriarch of the family and my fiancé’s uncle. He tracked me to a private clinic, trapping me in a room while holding my medical file and the ring I’d discarded. He told me I was his now, and that he’d dismantle Chris piece by piece if I didn't comply. I was a piece of currency to my father, a bet to my fiancé, and a prize to his uncle. I had no allies, no escape, and no mercy left. I realized that being the "perfect daughter" had only made me a target. If they wanted to play games with the "Ice Queen," I decided to give them a frostbite they would never forget. I trashed my art gallery, backdated a diagnosis for a psychotic break, and sent a cryptic suicide note to Chris. As Gallagher watched from the shadows and Chris panicked over his investment, I began the process of scorching the earth. The merger was still happening, but I wasn't the bride anymore—I was the wrecking ball.

Chapters

Chapter 7

It was 6:00 PM when Chris came home.

Elisa was sitting in the living room, a book open on her lap. She hadn't read a single page in an hour.

The door opened and Chris walked in. He looked refreshed. He was wearing a new suit. He was carrying a box from La Maison du Chocolat.

"Babe," he said, putting on a sad, puppy-dog face. "I'm such an idiot."

He walked over and knelt by her chair. He placed the chocolates on the table.

"I was so stressed last night," he said, taking her hand. "I didn't mean what I said about space. I panicked."

Elisa looked at him. She really looked at him. She saw the pores in his skin, the slight redness in his eyes. He looked ordinary. Pathetic.

"It's okay," she lied. Her voice was smooth, detached. "I overreacted too."

Chris let out a breath, shoulders sagging in relief. "Thank god. I love you, Elisa. You know that, right?"

He leaned in to kiss her.

Elisa smelled it. Underneath his cologne, faint but distinct. Chanel No. 5. It wasn't her perfume. It was old-fashioned. Heavy.

She turned her cheek at the last second, letting his lips graze her jaw. "I'm still a little upset, Chris."

"I know, I know. I'll make it up to you. I promise." He stood up. "I'm going to jump in the shower. Then let's order in? Thai?"

"Thai sounds good," Elisa said.

Chris took off his jacket and threw it over the back of the sofa. He loosened his tie as he walked toward the bedroom. "Be right back."

Elisa waited. She counted to thirty. She heard the water turn on in the master bath.

She moved.

She went to the sofa and picked up his jacket. She patted the pockets. His wallet. His keys. And...

A phone. But not his iPhone.

It was a small, black Blackberry. A burner.

Her heart hammered against her ribs. She pulled it out. It was locked.

She tried 1234. Incorrect.

She tried his birth year. 1995. Incorrect.

She paused. She looked at the bathroom door. The water was still running.

She typed in 1012. Her birthday.

The screen unlocked.

Elisa felt a wave of nausea. He used her birthday to lock away his secrets. It was a twisted form of ownership.

She scrolled through the messages.

Ivy: When can I see the loft?

Chris: Thursday. I'll bring the keys.

Ivy: Did you tell the Ice Queen you were working late?

Chris: She believes anything I say.

Elisa's hand shook. She scrolled further. There was an email attachment. A PDF.

Deed of Sale. 145 Hudson Street, Unit 4B. Owner: Ivy Maxwell.

He bought her a loft. With whose money?

She kept scrolling. She found a group chat app called "Signal". The group name was GameStop.

Dash: Short squeeze is coming. Get in now.

Chris: I'm leveraging the Hamilton account. Dumping 5 million tomorrow.

User2: Is that legal?

Chris: Only if you get caught.

Insider trading. embezzlement.

This wasn't just cheating. This was prison time.

The water in the bathroom stopped.

Elisa froze. She quickly pulled out her own phone and snapped photos of the screen. The deed. The texts. The trading chat.

She heard the shower door open.

She shoved the Blackberry back into the jacket pocket, exactly how she found it. She threw herself back into the armchair, picking up her book.

Chris walked out, toweling his hair. He was wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt.

"Did you order the Pad Thai?" he asked, smiling.

Elisa looked up. She forced her mouth to curve upward. "Just about to."

She stood up and walked over to him. She wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head on his chest. She could hear his heart beating. A steady, lying rhythm.

"I missed you," she whispered, fighting the urge to vomit.

"Missed you too, babe," Chris said, kissing the top of her head.

He had no idea he was holding a grenade.

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The Duke was standing in the middle of the room, his hands in his pockets, his head tilted to one side. It was a relaxed, casual pose, and yet the way he looked at her was anything but casual. The deep midnight of his eyes burned and he radiated a subtle, sensual energy that made the air around him crackle. He looked like a man who'd never heard the word 'no' in all his life. Unluckily for him, 'no' was the only word she had. "There's no reason why I should stay," Anna clasped her shaking hands together in an effort to still them. "I'm not marrying you." His gaze flickered, his mouth curving slightly, and she had the disturbing thought that far from putting him off, her insistence was only inciting him further. "But you haven't heard my proposal yet," he said mildly. "Isn't that why you're here?" "I don't need to hear it. I already know that my answer will be no." "Of course. But you can hardly tell your father that you heard me out when you haven't, in fact, heard me out.... Anna."

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8.5

For five years, I gave my heart to a man who ultimately prioritized his first love during a life-or-death crisis. When an explosion forced him to choose, he rescued her and left me behind in the smoke. Surviving the blast changed everything. I realized my devotion was a mistake and decided to disappear from his life forever. Now, as I embrace a new future, he is haunted by my absence and desperate to find the woman he discarded when it mattered most.

Action Modern Romance

8.4

I Wasn't Supposed to Find My Brother's Best Friend's Filthy Journal

8.4

When curiosity leads a young woman to uncover a hidden journal belonging to her brother's closest friend, she discovers a side of him she never imagined. The private pages reveal scandalous thoughts and dangerous secrets that blur the lines between attraction and betrayal. As she navigates their complex shared history, the tension between them reaches a breaking point. She must decide if their connection is worth the chaos his truth will unleash.

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In the shadow of a high-stakes urban landscape, a dangerous game of deception and survival begins. As secrets unravel, the protagonist finds themselves entangled in a web of betrayal where every move could lead to total ruin. This gripping mystery blends intense action with modern suspense, forcing characters to confront their darkest impulses. With everything on the line, they must navigate a treacherous path to protect what remains of their life.

Action Modern Mystery

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I was an Angel, You made me a Villain

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Betrayed by the very world he once protected, a former celestial guardian is cast down from grace. Stripped of his wings and purity, he finds himself fueled by a cold, relentless desire for vengeance against those who orchestrated his fall. As he navigates a realm of shadows, he must embrace his new identity as a formidable villain. Amidst the chaos of his path to retribution, an unexpected romance emerges, challenging his resolve and dark transformation.

Action Fantasy Romance

8.2

My Brother's Lies, My Fiancé's Betrayal

8.2

My brother, at the whim of his new girlfriend, fired our entire security team, leaving my mother and me alone in our isolated lake house. I had a premonition of a violent attack, but he just laughed and called me a drama queen. That night, my vision came true. Intruders stormed our home, and my mother took a crowbar to the chest to save my life. I escaped through the blizzard, bleeding and desperate, to my fiancé Cristofer' s cabin. He met me with a cold smirk. "Broderick warned me you'd pull a stunt like this." He accused me of faking it all for attention, then beat me until I tasted blood, leaving me on the floor. My brother and the man I was supposed to marry had branded me a liar while my mother was dying. They had chosen to believe a fantasy over my reality. But as I lay there, broken, Cristofer's phone rang. It was the sheriff, confirming a 911 call about a home invasion and a critically wounded victim at our address. Their world of lies was about to come crashing down.

Action Fantasy Romance

Claimed By My Fiancé's Ruthless Uncle

Chapter 7

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