Dear Ex, I Married Your Uncle

"Vivian, I can give you everything except the title. Always, I'll keep loving you."

A video flashed on the massive wedding screen. The sounds that filled the hall were unmistakable, echoing through the space.

The man shown was Cary Moore, the groom of the day.

Beside him stood Vivian Hayes, the bride Eleanor Shaw's closest friend and maid of honor.

"Turn it off! Turn it off now!" Vivian cried out as she rushed toward the control panel.

Fury took over Cary's expression. Without hesitation, he stepped forward and tore the power cable loose.

The screen went dark at once.

The moment Eleanor's eyes landed on the scene, she froze, a chill spreading through her.

She stared at the man in front of her, the sound in her ears rising until everything blurred together.

Voices filled the hall, but they reached her as nothing more than a distant noise.

It felt like she had been struck in front of everyone, the heat in her face impossible to ignore.

Long before either of them had grown up, her grandfather and Cary's grandfather had already decided that the two would marry one day.

Their personalities had never clicked, yet she went along with it because the families had arranged it. Even after the Shaws fell on hard times, the Moores kept their word, and she was grateful for that. She believed that as long as she did her part, no one would have a reason to criticize her.

She never expected this. Cary had betrayed her. And the person he chose was the one she trusted the most.

The two people she relied on had chosen to deceive her together.

Her eyes welled up, but she pressed her lips together and held it in. Lifting the edge of her wedding dress, she turned to walk away.

In her rush, she almost ran straight into a man seated in a wheelchair near the aisle.

The man leaned back slightly, then raised his head.

Their gazes locked.

In that brief moment, Eleanor saw his face clearly. The contrast was striking.

One side was handsome, while the other was scarred and disfigured. A dark red scar stretched from his temple all the way down to his chin.

That scar dominated his face, drawing all attention away from the features that remained intact.

Even so, his sharp jawline and the bridge of his nose were still visible. Behind a pair of gold-rimmed glasses, his eyes appeared deep and unreadable.

Eleanor froze the instant she recognized him.

She knew exactly who he was.

He was Cary's youngest uncle, the man people both feared and avoided within the Moore family—Adrian Moore.

He had taken control of the Moore Group at twenty. Within just a few years, he'd multiplied the company's value several times over. Known for his ruthless decisiveness, he was a legend in the city's business scene.

Three years earlier, a fire at his home destroyed his face and his legs. His mother died in that fire, and the fall left him in a wheelchair for good.

Many believed his rise had ended there. Yet Adrian still held his position as CEO of the Moore Group. That alone spoke to his ability and his mind.

"Adrian..." said Eleanor, her voice barely audible as she instinctively stepped back.

The man gave a small nod. It was clear he had seen everything unfold.

His gaze moved across the mess before resting on her. "Where are you headed?"

The tone of his voice held no warmth, matching his unreadable expression.

At that moment, Cary hurried over and reached for her. "Eleanor, listen to me. Let me explain. It's not what you think. I was set up!"

Eleanor pulled her hand free at once. "Not what I think? Wasn't that you on that screen? Cary, you disgust me!"

Vivian rushed forward as well, her face marked with tears. "Eleanor, please, I'm sorry. We didn't plan for this. We just..."

"You just what?" Eleanor cut in. "You just couldn't stop yourselves? Vivian, I chose you to stand beside me, not to take my place!"

Cary's expression hardened. He glanced around—every guest was watching. This had already become a circus, and his family couldn't afford that.

Without hesitation, he stepped forward and seized Eleanor's wrist. Lowering his voice, he spoke with warning. "I admit this was my mistake. But today is our wedding. Look around. Everyone important in town is here. They're watching us. Are you really planning to walk away now? Think about your family. Can they really afford to offend mine?"

His words struck their mark. Eleanor felt her chest tighten.

She understood exactly what he meant.

Her family no longer held its former standing. The only reason this marriage was still happening was because of the bond between her grandfather and Cary's.

If she walked out now, even though Cary was the one at fault, the damage would fall on his entire family, and the consequences for her family would be severe.

But how could she accept this? How could she marry someone who had humiliated her in front of everyone and shown no regret?

She simply couldn't accept it.

Eleanor pressed her lips together, trapped between two choices. Then her gaze shifted and landed on the man in the wheelchair. A sudden thought took hold.

When the engagement had been arranged, the condition had been simple. A daughter of the Shaw family would marry into the Moore family.

It had never said she had to marry Cary specifically.

The idea settled firmly in Eleanor's mind.

With a sharp motion, she freed her hand from Cary and walked straight toward Adrian.

In full view of everyone present, she took out the ring she had prepared for Cary.

Holding it in her palm, she lifted her eyes to meet Adrian's dark gaze and spoke without hesitation.

"Mr. Moore... will you marry me?"