Claimed By The Husband's Ruthless Uncle
Audrey Fletcher was forced to marry the notorious playboy Julian Sterling to save her family's sinking company after her sister ran away.
On their wedding night, her new husband threw a $100,000 check at her face, told her they would be strangers in private, and abandoned her in the bridal suite.
She thought being trapped in a loveless, transactional marriage was the worst fate possible.
She was wrong.
To protect herself, Audrey hung a pair of men's boxer shorts on her balcony to fake a lover's presence.
Instead of deterring her husband, the ridiculous ruse brought Alistair Sterling—Julian's terrifying, powerful uncle and the true puppet master of the family.
He stormed into her apartment with a legal team to catch her cheating, and later even offered her ten million dollars to divorce his nephew.
When she refused out of fear of her own family's ruin, the situation escalated.
Forced to attend a charity gala, Audrey was tricked by staff into wearing a scandalous, backless gown and sent to a dark penthouse suite to beg her husband for peace.
But the man waiting in the shadows wasn't Julian. It was Alistair.
"Does the thought of seducing your husband's uncle give you a special kind of thrill?"
He didn't listen to her desperate explanations. Instead, he pinned her arms behind her back and crushed his mouth against hers in a brutal, punishing kiss.
Trembling with terror and revulsion, Audrey bit his lip until she tasted blood, shoved the billionaire away, and ran for her life.
She couldn't understand why this powerful man was so dangerously obsessed with destroying her sham marriage.
But as she fled into the cold city night, she realized the terrifying truth: the real game was just beginning.
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Chapter 2
Julian walked down the long, dimly lit corridor of the main estate and pushed open the heavy double doors to Conway's study. The mocking smirk he wore in the bridal suite vanished instantly. He straightened his posture and lowered his head in a show of respect. Behind the mask of submission, a flicker of deep-seated resentment burned in Julian's eyes. He hated the absolute power his uncle held over him, but he knew better than to show it.
Conway sat in his high-backed leather chair. He did not turn around. His eyes remained fixed on the monitor, where the image of Diana curled up on the carpet was paused.
"Good performance," Conway said. His voice was a low, flat rumble that carried no emotion. "Whose perfume was it?"
Julian relaxed slightly and shrugged his shoulders. "Some model I found at the bar. I needed her to believe I just rolled out of someone else's bed, exactly as you instructed."
Conway reached forward and pressed a button. The monitor went black. He slowly turned his chair to face his nephew. His cold, calculating gaze swept over Julian.
"She looks like she has more backbone than her sister," Conway noted.
Julian let out a short, dismissive scoff. "Backbone? She is just here for the money. She still asked about the family funds at the end."
The temperature in the room seemed to drop. Conway's eyes narrowed. "She is fulfilling a transaction. You, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy playing your part a little too much."
Julian swallowed hard. The muscles in his neck tightened. "Of course not, Uncle. I am just helping you get my grandfather off your back."
A sharp knock on the study door interrupted them. Mrs. Holloway, the head housekeeper, stepped into the room.
"Mr. Theodore Maxwell Sr. has arrived," she announced.
Conway and Julian exchanged a quick look. The muscle in Conway's jaw ticked. This was a variable he had not planned for.
Heavy, uneven footsteps echoed in the hallway. Theodore Sr. walked into the study. He was an elderly man, but his presence filled the room. He leaned heavily on a silver-handled cane, his sharp eyes darting between the two men.
"I heard the Atkins family sent Diana, not Janessa Walsh," Theodore said, his voice raspy but commanding.
Conway remained seated. His expression was completely blank. "Yes. It is a fraud. This gives us the perfect legal ground to cancel the marriage immediately."
Theodore lifted his cane and slammed the rubber tip hard against the hardwood floor. The sound cracked like a whip. "Cancel it? The Maxwell Group's stock price went up three percent today because of this union. You will not cancel anything."
He walked closer, pointing a weathered finger at Conway. "I do not care who they sent. As long as her last name is Atkins, she is your wife."
Conway stood up. He was a full head taller than his grandfather. The physical space between them crackled with tension. "I will not accept a replacement."
Theodore let out a dry, rattling laugh. "You just do not want to accept any wife. Conway, is there something wrong with you? Still thinking about Janessa Walsh, are you? You would rather live with a ghost of a runaway bride than a real woman. This family needs an heir, not a memorial service!"
Julian stood in the corner, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. He kept his eyes glued to the floor.
Conway's face turned to stone. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the edge of his desk. "I do not have a problem," he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "I simply refuse to be managed."
"Then consider this a challenge," Theodore countered. "You stay married to her. You give me an heir. Do that, and I will hand over my final veto power on the board of directors to you."
Conway's grip on the desk loosened slightly. The veto power. It was the one thing keeping him from total control of the empire. It was an offer he could not refuse.
Theodore turned his sharp gaze to Julian. "From now on, you move back into the manor. But you stay away from your 'wife'. I will send people to facilitate their relationship."
The old man turned back to Conway. "And you. As Julian's uncle, it is your duty to guide him on how to manage a marriage. I expect you to interact with your niece-in-law frequently."
Conway's eyes flickered. The command handed him the perfect cover. It gave him an undeniable, family-sanctioned reason to stay close to Diana and watch her every move without revealing his true identity.
Theodore saw the calculation in Conway's eyes and smiled in satisfaction. The old man firmly believed that Conway's resistance to women was due to his lingering obsession with Janessa. He thought his aggressive push was exactly what his grandson needed.
Theodore turned and walked out of the study, his cane thumping rhythmically against the floor.
Once the heavy doors closed, Julian let out a long breath. "Grandfather is playing for keeps. Uncle, your status as the 'uncle' is officially certified now."
Conway ignored the comment. He walked to the window and looked out at the dark courtyard. His mind was already moving the pieces on the board. He wanted to see exactly how long this Diana woman could survive under the crushing weight of the Maxwell family.
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9.4
I thought the Burch family gave me a loving home when they took me out of the orphanage.
But when the global deep freeze apocalypse hit, my adoptive parents mercilessly kicked me out of the bunker to freeze to death.
As I lay dying in the snow, covered in horrific purple frostbite, my adoptive sister Kendal walked past me in a pristine designer jacket.
Around her neck was my only childhood possession—an antique gold necklace my adoptive mother had ripped off my neck to give to her.
Kendal gloated, bragging that my pendant held a magical space with infinite supplies and fresh food while the rest of the world starved.
I realized I had spent years emptying my life savings to fund their luxury cars and fake medical emergencies.
They had drained my bank accounts, stolen my bloodline's heirloom, and used my magical lifeline to live like royalty while leaving me to die.
I took my last ragged breath in that blinding blizzard, consumed by a toxic hatred.
Why was I so hopelessly weak? Why did I let them take everything from me?
Opening my eyes again, the painful frostbite scars were gone. My skin was warm.
I grabbed my phone. The screen lit up: November 12.
It was exactly three days before the world ended.
When my adoptive mother called, faking a tearful emergency to demand another thirty thousand dollars, I smiled coldly.
"Just tell me where to send the money, Mom."
This time, I'm taking my space back, and I'm going to drain them dry.
8.4
Ayleen Avery was just a struggling hotel worker trying to survive her shift. But during a sudden blackout, she accidentally stumbled into the pitch-black VIP suite of a ruthless billionaire driven mad by chronic insomnia.
Calmed only by her unique natural scent of roses and rain, the terrifying man attacked her from the shadows and forced himself on her. Terrified and broken, Ayleen fled at dawn, unknowingly leaving behind her late mother's antique rose necklace in his bed.
Her greedy coworker found the necklace, claimed to be the woman from that night, and was instantly swept into a life of luxury. Meanwhile, Ayleen was blackmailed into a forced marriage with her attacker—Cassius Doyle—to save her adoptive father from prison. Deceived by the stolen necklace, Cassius believed Ayleen was a manipulative spy. He brought the coworker into their home and paraded her around the master bedroom.
"In this house, you are lower than the dirt on my shoes."
He choked Ayleen, forced her to sleep in a damp storage room, and treated her with violent disgust while pampering the thief.
Ayleen was suffocating in absolute despair. She had lost her innocence, her freedom, and her mother's only relic to a vicious liar. She couldn't understand how this all-powerful man could be so completely blind. Why couldn't he recognize the very scent that had cured his agonizing madness?
Staring at the dark bruises he had just left on her neck, Ayleen wiped the blood from her lip. She would endure this three-month marriage to secure her family's safety, but once the contract ended, she would expose the truth and tear down the fake savior he cherished so much.
7.7
I fled my werewolf pack five years ago to hide in a human city, all to escape a recurring nightmare.
Every full moon, a terrifying, golden-eyed Lycan slaughters everything in his path, forces me to my knees with a crushing Alpha command, and claims I am his fated mate.
The vivid dreams were destroying my inner wolf, forcing me to finally agree to return to my pack for the annual Pack Run to seek a cure.
But right before my flight home, I accidentally bumped into Rick Miller, the most arrogant, tyrannical Alpha on our college campus.
He looked down at the coffee spilled on his expensive leather jacket with pure disdain, publicly humiliating me in front of the entire airport.
"Do you have any idea what this jacket costs? Never mind. It's not like you could afford to replace it."
As he coldly insulted me, a terrifying realization suddenly froze my blood.
He smelled exactly like the ancient pine and storm from my nightmares, and his brief touch sent a mate's electric spark straight to my soul.
How could this cruel, spoiled campus bully possibly be the legendary, terrifying Lycan King who haunted my every sleeping moment?
As he turned and boarded his private jet, I looked down at my trembling hands and realized the horrifying truth.
My trip back to the pack wasn't a journey to heal my trauma.
I was walking straight into the cage of the very monster I had spent five years trying to outrun.
8.5
"And that is the reason why I said those words. I like your fear, not because it is a normal thing. I love it because deep down you are a monster like me, schiava. You fear me on a primal level, you can feel my power and dominance, and you know you aren't the strongest here. So you don't fear Renzo Valentino the human, you fear the monster that lurks inside."
My life changed the night of my birthday. What started as a funny dare ended with blood and having a price on my head.
I thought Renzo was the hero who saved me that night, but he was the devil who owned me forever.
I, Misha Yakov, princess of the Russian mafia became Renzo Valentino's slave.
He broke me, tortured me, and molded me into something new, something I hated and craved at the same time.
I, Misha Yakov became my master's pet.
8.5
After surviving years in the Alpha King's brutal prisons, I returned to my pack only to be stripped of my family home and exiled to a rotting cabin.
I accepted the humiliation in silence, until I found a dying baby girl abandoned in a trash-filled alley.
Taking her in awoke the terrifying, protective beast I had kept chained in my mind. The pack, fueled by rumors and a jealous woman's bruised ego, viewed us as abominations. They trespassed on my land to uncover my "dirty secrets," forcing me to build a massive stone fortress with my bare hands just to keep my daughter safe from their cruelty.
We lived in isolated peace for years, until the day I took her outside the walls to visit my parents' graves.
A convoy of royal Alphas arrived, and their Luna fell to her knees at my mother's cousin's grave, weeping and calling her "sister."
I didn't understand. Why was my forgotten family connected to the royals? And why did Cassian Vargan, the most powerful Alpha in the world, freeze in absolute shock the moment he realized who I was?
"You... are you Gideon Stone's son?"
The bloody past I had buried under a mountain of stone had finally found me.
I didn't answer him. I just pulled my daughter behind me and tightly gripped my knife, ready to slaughter a king if he took one more step.
9.5
Bridget left the office early on her anniversary, her pocket heavy with a custom velvet ring box meant for her fiancé.
But when she pushed open the bedroom door, she found him tangled in their bed with her best friend, Chloe.
"Bridget! Wait, it's not what it looks like!" Jacob stammered, his eyes wide with panic.
"Evidence," Bridget stated coldly, snapping a photo of their naked bodies before fleeing into the freezing New York night.
Desperate to numb the betrayal, she got blackout drunk at an underground lounge and threw herself at a dark, terrifyingly handsome stranger.
She woke up in a penthouse suite alone, finding only a limitless black credit card left on the nightstand.
Humiliated and feeling like a cheap escort, she ran away, swearing to forget the nightmare.
But the nightmare had just begun. When she rushed into the office, she discovered the stranger was Jevon Rocha—the ruthless billionaire CEO of her company.
He didn't fire her. Instead, he trapped her in a twisted, obsessive power game, forcing her into his private life and demanding she report to his penthouse.
Bridget couldn't understand why a ruthless billionaire was so dangerously fixated on a low-level employee.
Until she stumbled upon his secret social media account and saw a crayon drawing of a little kid, captioned with a single word: "Finally."
A wave of absolute horror washed over her. He wasn't just playing games; he was hiding a secret child and a messy, high-stakes family drama.
She refused to be the naive collateral damage in a billionaire's twisted life.
Trembling, Bridget hit "Block" on his profile, determined to escape his dangerous web.