Claimed By The Uncle: My Sweet Revenge
I was the "crazy girl" my family sent to a survivalist commune in Utah to rot. Four years later, I returned to Manhattan with a titanium USB drive and a heart full of ice, ready to blackmail the one man who could burn my family to the ground.
But I underestimated how much they hated me. My fiancé, Preston, was already laundering money through my inheritance and sleeping with my replacement. He didn't even flinch when I showed him the evidence of his crimes.
Instead, he grabbed me by the shoulders, smashed my phone, and shoved me out of his moving Lincoln into a midnight storm. I hit the wet pavement hard, my knees scraping against the asphalt as I watched him drive away, laughing about how I was a "dirt-poor exile" that nobody wanted.
Within minutes, my credit cards were flagged as stolen and my father’s lawyers were drafting a statement calling me mentally unstable. I was left shivering in a puddle of oily sludge, wearing a ruined Chanel suit, with no money, no home, and no one to hear me scream.
I couldn't understand how they could be so cruel. I was their flesh and blood, yet they treated me like a broken toy to be discarded in the trash. I was a "distressed asset" in a city that only valued gold.
That’s when a black armored SUV pulled to the curb. King Wagner—the ruthless shark of Wall Street and Preston’s own uncle—looked at my muddy face with cold, calculating eyes. He didn't offer me pity; he offered me a leash.
"You belong to me now," he whispered, pulling me into the dry warmth of his car. By the next morning, he had announced our engagement to the world, turning me into the very weapon that would slit my family's throat.
Chapters
Share
Chapter 4
The water in the bathroom shut off. The sudden silence in the penthouse was deafening.
Preston stood up from the leather sofa, smoothing the front of his jacket. He looked nervous, his eyes darting toward the hallway.
The door opened. King walked out first, immaculate in a charcoal grey suit, his face a mask of indifference.
A second later, Adeline stepped out.
Preston's jaw dropped.
She was wearing a beige Chanel skirt suit that fit her as if it had been stitched on her body. Her hair was damp, combed back slickly. She held a black folder against her chest like a shield.
"Adeline?" Preston choked out. "What the hell are you doing here?"
Adeline felt her heart slam against her sternum. She looked at King. He was pouring himself a glass of water, utterly unbothered.
"She's reviewing the supplementary clauses of the prenup," King said, taking a sip.
"The prenup?" Preston blinked. "That's for the lawyers. Why are you..."
King turned slowly. His gaze was heavy, physical. "I don't trust your legal team with the Golden Media equity swap, Preston. So I'm asking the principal directly."
Adeline stepped forward. She channeled every ounce of hatred she felt for the man staring at her. She held up the folder.
"Mr. Wagner pointed out some... potential risks, Preston," she said. Her voice was steady.
Preston looked between them. He was suspicious-the damp hair, the early hour-but the fear of his uncle outweighed his jealousy. He shrank back.
"Oh," Preston said. "Right. Thank you, Uncle King."
King sat on the arm of the sofa. "Since you're here. The Macau investment. I hear you took a heavy loss."
Preston paled. The color drained from his face so fast he looked like a corpse. "Just... market volatility."
"Better be," King said. "I don't want to see anything ugly in next week's audit."
Adeline watched Preston crumble. The arrogance was gone, replaced by the trembling of a scolded child. It was pathetic. And it was satisfying.
King checked his watch. "I have a meeting. Silas, drive Ms. Golden to the summit."
"I have my car," Preston interjected quickly, stepping toward Adeline. His hand shot out to grab her arm. "I'll take her."
King's eyes dropped to Preston's hand on Adeline's sleeve. For a second, the air in the room grew violent. Then, King nodded.
"Fine. Preston, ensure Ms. Golden understands the gravity of the equity clauses. There's no room for error."
"I won't let you down, Uncle," Preston said, misinterpreting the warning entirely.
The elevator ride down was suffocating. Preston stared at her wet hair, his nostrils flaring.
When the doors opened in the lobby, he didn't wait. He grabbed her wrist, his grip bruising, and dragged her toward the glass doors.
"You think running to King will save you?" Preston hissed, shoving her toward the valet stand. "He's laughing at you. You're a joke to him."
Adeline yanked her arm free. She looked back at the elevator bank. King was standing in the shadows of the lobby, watching. He didn't move to help. He just watched.
She realized then that he wasn't her savior. He was her weapon. And weapons didn't cuddle you; they waited to be used.
"At least he read the agreement," Adeline said coldly. "You just sign whatever your mother puts in front of you."
Preston's face twisted in rage. "Wait until you see Carmella. Then you'll know who the real joke is."
He shoved her into the back of his Lincoln.
Up in the lobby, King touched his earpiece.
"Initiate Project Icarus," he said to the empty air. "I want Preston's offshore accounts on my desk in three days."
You may also like
8.4
One secret. One scandal. One love that refused to stay hidden.
Lina's rise was unstoppable-until the wrong love was exposed. In a world ruled by power, envy, and silent rules, her heart becomes her greatest weakness and her greatest weapon.
Betrayal strikes from those she trusted most. Rumors spread faster than truth. And every choice Lina makes threatens to cost her everything-her career, her reputation, and the man she loves.
When the lines between survival and desire blur, Lina must decide: bury her heart to save her future... or risk total destruction for a love too loud to hide.
A Love Too Loud to Hide is a gripping tale of forbidden passion, ruthless betrayal, and a woman pushed to the edge by love.
7.3
Laura Brooks thought she was just an ordinary woman working a normal job-until one reckless night with a stranger changed everything.
Damien Blackwood isn't just dangerously handsome-he's the ruthless Alpha of the most feared werewolf pack in the region. For ten years, he ruled with violence and strength, but the moment he saw Laura, a human, he knew the truth: she was his mate. His Luna. His obsession.
Terrified, Laura tried to run. But fate was cruel. Caught between two rival Alphas-Damien, who would burn the world to keep her, and Kael, who wanted her as a weapon to destroy him-Laura was dragged into a world of blood, betrayal, and war.
Laura's fate is sealed in violence. To save her life and their unborn child, Damien makes the one choice that changes everything: he turns her.
Now Laura is no longer just human. She is Alpha's mate. She is Luna. And the world will learn why no one steals from Damien Blackwood.
9.3
Alyssa Gregory slept with Benton Steele, a recently disgraced and bankrupt heir, just to humiliate him.
She threw a massive check at his bare chest, treating the former prince of Wall Street like a cheap escort.
But Benton didn't take the charity.
Instead, he manipulated her anger, tricking her into signing an ironclad contract that surrendered absolute control of her entire trust fund to him.
When her abusive mother found out she had funded a penniless outcast, she slapped Alyssa across the face.
Her mother froze all her bank accounts, locked her inside her bedroom, and arranged to sell her off to a degenerate politician.
Desperate to escape, Alyssa climbed down her balcony, falling fifteen feet and shattering her ankle on the stones below.
Stripped of her money and freedom, she dragged her broken body to a VIP club just to publicly declare that Benton belonged to her.
She thought she was the boss, playing a rebellious game with a broken man.
But when Benton effortlessly carried her away from the club and locked her inside his rundown apartment, the terrifying calculation in his dark eyes shattered her illusion.
How could a man stripped of his entire empire still radiate such suffocating, violent power?
"You bought me," Benton whispered, his massive frame trapping her against the sofa. "That means I have to take care of you."
Physically trapped and completely broke, Alyssa stared into his consuming eyes, her mind racing to find a way to turn the tables.
7.7
The Cameron family clinic smelled like lemon polish and impending death. For three years, I'd been a vessel in a cold, forced marriage to Underboss Kade Cameron. But today, the doctor's words would shatter everything.
"No heartbeat," Dr. Finch declared, then, "Stage IV gastric cancer. Terminal." A double death sentence. As the world tilted, a news alert flashed: Kade, my husband, parading his mistress, Carla Shaw, across Europe-"a love that defies family lines."
Dying and carrying his dead child, I overheard nurses gossip Kade wanted me gone for his "true love." I chose to feel the D&C agony, cleansing him from my soul. Stumbling out, Kade accused me of killing his child, then rushed Carla, feigning illness, to OB/GYN, ignoring my bleeding and dying state.
Back at the mansion, I vomited blood, my body failing. Kade watched with disgust, dismissing my terminal diagnosis as a "performance." He called me "collateral," a "debt payment," then left me for his mistress. The last shred of loyalty shattered, replaced by chilling clarity.
I signed the divorce papers he dismissed as a "tantrum," leaving his ring. No longer a Cameron, no longer his possession. With Fluffy, I made one call, choosing to die on my own terms, finally free.
7.4
I sacrificed the wolf core to save my beloved.
To avoid being overwhelmed by guilt, I chose to leave and silently wait for death in a corner of the human world.
But even after he became the alpha of the wolf pack, he still went to great lengths to marry me. After we got married, he flaunted his mistress in front of me every day, trying to provoke me and get revenge.
But he didn't know that I was about to die.
Darling, I'm dying.
8.2
For five years, I was the invisible glue holding Damien Crawford together. I was the one who pulled him from a burning car until the skin melted off my back, and I was the one who donated bone marrow when he was on death's door. I even gave up a full-ride scholarship to MIT just to be his nurse.
Yet, he believed his mistress, Hadley, was his savior. To him, I was just the maid's daughter who changed his bedpans—a piece of furniture he could abuse while he planned his wedding to another woman.
But his cruelty didn't stop at verbal abuse. When my father suffered a massive heart attack, Damien refused to let me use the car, choosing to comfort Hadley over a fake panic attack instead.
His mother even slashed the tires to ensure I couldn't leave.
While my father died cold and alone, Damien stabbed a needle into my hand just to teach me a lesson about "respect," oblivious to the fact that the scars on my skin were the receipt for his life.
He didn't know he was torturing the only person who had ever truly loved him. But the girl who begged for crumbs of affection died along with her father that day.
I picked up my phone and dialed the number saved simply as a dot.
"He's dead," I whispered to the man on the other end—Anderson Morrison, the city's most feared Don and my sworn protector.
"I'm coming," he replied, his voice lethal. "And I'm bringing the army."
It was time to show Damien that he hadn't just mistreated a maid; he had declared war on a Queen.