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.
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Chapter 8
Monday morning at Wagner Capital was a religious experience for the finance world. The lobby was a cathedral of money.
King's Maybach pulled up to the curb. Flashbulbs erupted like strobe lights.
King stepped out, buttoning his jacket. He reached back in and helped Adeline out.
She wasn't wearing Chanel today. She was wearing a deep navy suit King had commissioned for her over the weekend. It was sharp, aggressive, and screamed authority.
Reporters shouted questions. "Mr. Wagner! Is the hostile takeover rumor true?"
King ignored them. He kept his hand firmly on the small of Adeline's back, guiding her through the glass doors. The physical contact was a statement louder than any press release.
They rode the private elevator to the top floor. The boardroom doors opened.
Preston was sitting at the head of the table, laughing with a board member. He looked comfortable. Safe.
When he saw Adeline, his laugh died.
"Adeline?" He stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. "This is a closed board meeting. Security!"
"Sit down, Preston," King said. His voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the room like a whip. "She is my Special Advisor."
Adeline walked past Preston. She didn't look at him. She sat in the chair to the right of the head of the table-King's right hand.
King took his seat. He didn't waste time with pleasantries. He slid a thick binder across the polished mahogany table.
"Before we discuss the acquisition," King said, "we need to address a compliance issue."
The screen on the wall flickered to life. Spreadsheets appeared. Red numbers highlighted in neon.
"These are the financials for the Macau project," King said. "There is a twenty-million-dollar discrepancy."
The board members murmured. Preston began to sweat.
"That's... that's a clerical error!" Preston stammered. "Uncle King, you can't bring this up here..."
"I gave you a chance, Preston," King said coldly. "Friday night."
Adeline cleared her throat. Every eye in the room turned to her.
She opened her folder. "I have a supplementary document regarding the cash flow," she said, her voice cool and practiced. They had rehearsed this for hours in the Hamptons.
She slid a paper toward the center of the table. "These are wire transfers from the Macau shell company to a private account held by the Venetian Casino. The account was opened using a passport under the name Preston Wagner. I acquired these through a contact I made in Utah-someone who specializes in asset recovery from offshore gambling havens."
Preston slammed his hands on the table. "You bitch! You're lying! You hacked me!"
"Watch your tone," King snapped. The menace in his voice made a board member flinch.
"In light of this gross misconduct," King addressed the board, "I move to suspend Preston Wagner from all duties pending an internal investigation."
"Seconded," said the CFO immediately.
"All in favor?"
Every hand went up.
Security guards stepped forward. "Mr. Wagner, please come with us."
Preston looked at Adeline as they dragged him out. His eyes were wide with shock and hatred. "You'll regret this! Carmella will destroy you!"
The doors closed. Silence returned.
Adeline felt a rush of dizziness. It was the adrenaline. It was the first time she had ever tasted blood.
King leaned toward her, his voice a low murmur only she could hear. "How does it feel?"
"Like flying," she whispered.
"Don't get high yet," King said, opening the next file. "That was the appetizer. Carmella is the main course."
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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.