I Dumped My Cheating Fiancé and Married His Uncle
On the night before her wedding, Navia Harrison discovers her fiancé in bed with her step-sister-and worse, the two of them are already planning how to get rid of her after the marriage.
Humiliated and consumed by hatred, Navia exposes their affair during the wedding ceremony itself, destroying both families' reputations in a single move.
Then, she meets him.
Leonel Crawford - the cold and dangerously powerful head of the Crawford family. Untouchable. Ruthless. A man no woman has ever been able to keep close.
He's also her ex-fiancé's uncle.
One impulsive proposal changes everything.
"If you need a wife... marry me instead."
"Honestly... we'd make a pretty good match."
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Chapter 2
The man paused briefly and turned to look at Navia.
Their eyes met.
In the reflection of his dark gaze, Navia could see herself clearly. For some reason, she thought she caught a hint of expectation in his eyes.
"Why would you ask that?" he asked softly. "Do I seem familiar to you?"
Navia instinctively shook her head.
"This is the first time I've met you," she admitted. "Though I've heard your name plenty of times."
"Is that so?"
Something shifted in his expression, his eyes darkening slightly. Even his tone cooled.
"It's getting late," he said. "I'll have someone drive you home."
He was injured and clearly needed rest, so Navia didn't want to disturb him any longer.
"It's fine," she replied. "The police are still downstairs. I'll be okay."
With that, she turned and left.
The moment the door closed, Leonel Crawford slowly rose from the hospital bed and walked to the window, his eyes following Navia's figure until she disappeared completely from sight.
A few minutes later, a man dressed in black hurried into the room.
It was Jason Cole, Leonel's most trusted aide.
"Sir, I had the vehicle inspected immediately," Jason reported. "The tire was definitely tampered with. We should know who did it very soon-"
Leonel was still holding a copy of the hospital paperwork.
Because everything had happened so urgently, Navia had signed her name in the emergency contact section when admitting him.
His gaze lingered on her signature.
His fingertips brushed lightly across the handwriting as the faintest smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
"There's no need to investigate," he said calmly. "I did it myself."
Jason froze.
"What?"
Then realization dawned on him.
"Since your return and takeover of the Crawford family business, the other branches have been targeting you nonstop," Jason said carefully. "By getting into a car accident now, you've made the old chairman suspicious of them. It limits their ability to move against you while protecting yourself at the same time."
Leonel lowered his gaze slightly.
"No," he said in a calm voice. "It serves three purposes."
Jason frowned. "There's a third?"
A faint smile tugged at the corner of Leonel's lips, unreadable and cold.
"You'll find out soon enough."
He folded the document with unhurried precision before slipping it into his pocket.
-
Navia returned to the Harrison family villa.
The mansion felt cold and empty.
Silent.
Her mother, Evelyn Harrison, had once been the chairwoman of the Harrison Group. But after a devastating car accident years ago, she had fallen into a coma and never woken up.
Her father, Daniel Harrison, was now acting CEO.
At least, publicly, he claimed to be busy with work and social obligations.
In reality, he had long been living with his mistress and illegitimate daughter behind closed doors.
The family still looked complete from the outside.
But in truth, it had already fallen apart.
Thinking about everything that had happened that night, Navia rushed into the bathroom and splashed cold water against her face again and again.
She stared at herself in the mirror.
Long dark hair framed delicate features and porcelain skin. Her beauty was undeniable.
But tonight, her face was deathly pale.
Tomorrow was supposed to be her wedding day.
Once upon a time, she had been genuinely excited about her future with Liam Crawford.
Now, after discovering his true nature, the thought of marrying him made her physically sick.
Taking a deep breath, Navia opened the anonymous text message again.
[Who are you?!]
If it weren't for that message, she never would have uncovered Liam and Linda's affair.
But who sent it?
And what did they want?
Navia gripped her phone tightly, but no reply came.
Just as she was about to give up, her phone suddenly rang.
A distorted mechanical voice came through the line, impossible to identify as male or female.
"So," the voice said, "you saw everything."
"Yes," Navia replied coldly. "I saw all of it."
"Quite the surprise, wasn't it?"
She let out a self-mocking laugh.
"Yeah. One hell of a surprise. So who are you? What exactly are you trying to accomplish?"
The mysterious caller ignored the question.
"If you don't cancel tomorrow morning's wedding immediately," the voice said calmly, "it'll be too late."
Navia narrowed her eyes.
So this person's goal was simply to ruin her marriage to Liam?
She knew she wouldn't get any real answers.
After a moment of silence, she took a deep breath.
"Cancel the wedding?" she repeated softly. "You don't need to worry about that. I'll be there tomorrow morning."
The caller sounded shocked.
"Are you crazy?"
"Maybe I am," Navia replied with a faint smile. "You'll probably be there too, won't you? Whatever your real goal is..." Her eyes turned icy cold. "Just watch carefully."
Then she hung up.
-
Navia didn't sleep all night.
At dawn, she changed into her wedding dress.
Because of her mother's condition, the wedding had been kept simple. There was no lavish ceremony or extravagant celebration-only invited guests and a handful of media outlets covering the event live.
Soon, the car arrived at the outdoor wedding venue on the outskirts of the city.
At the end of the red carpet stood her father, Daniel Harrison.
Beside him was Linda, dressed in a bridesmaid gown.
And next to her stood Liam Crawford in a tailored white suit.
Liam was undeniably handsome.
Elegant. Charming. Perfect.
He walked toward Navia and extended his hand, his eyes filled with affection.
"Navia," he said softly, "you're here."
If she hadn't heard the conversation between him and Linda with her own ears the night before, she might truly have been deceived by him.
The more loving and devoted he appeared in front of others, the more horrifying it became to remember the cold calculations he hid behind that mask.
Navia ignored the hand he offered and walked straight down the red carpet alone.
Liam paused in surprise, assuming she was merely nervous, then smiled and followed after her.
Soon, the two stood before the officiant.
Around them, cameras streamed the ceremony live.
"Liam Crawford," the officiant began, "do you take this woman to be your lawful wife, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health?"
Liam looked at Navia tenderly.
"I do."
The officiant then turned toward Navia.
"And do you, Navia Harrison, take this man to be your lawful husband, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health?"
Navia lifted her chin.
Every word fell sharp and clear.
"I do not."
Silence.
Navia stood there in her white wedding gown, graceful and poised like a swan, her slender neck lifted proudly.
Yet the words she had spoken struck the crowd like thunder.
Liam's expression froze.
"Navia..." he said stiffly. "You misspoke just now, didn't you?"
"No," she replied calmly. "I didn't."
"And all of you heard me correctly too."
Her gaze swept across the crowd.
"The man I planned to marry was supposed to love me, protect me, and take responsibility for me."
Her voice turned colder with every word.
"Not a lying hypocrite who pretends to be one person in public while hiding his true face behind closed doors."
Without even looking at Liam, Navia turned toward the cameras surrounding the ceremony.
"So today, in front of everyone, I have an announcement to make."
She took a steady breath.
"I, Navia Harrison, am officially ending my engagement to Liam Crawford."
The instant those words fell, Liam's face darkened completely.
Not only because Navia had humiliated him without mercy-
But because this was happening live, in front of nearly every influential family connected to the Crawfords.
The entire city was watching.
"Ending the engagement?" Liam snapped, his handsome face twisting with fury. "Have you lost your mind?!"
Beside him, Linda covered her mouth dramatically.
"Oh my God, Navia," she exclaimed. "This is a wedding between the Harrison and Crawford families! This isn't the time to throw a tantrum!"
Daniel Harrison's face also changed instantly.
"Do you have any idea what you're doing?!" he shouted furiously. "Calling off the engagement in public-are you trying to humiliate this family to death?!"
Navia looked at him steadily.
"Dad, I know you're angry. But I've already made my decision. I will never marry Liam Crawford because-"
SLAP!
Daniel's hand struck her hard across the face.
A burning red mark instantly appeared on Navia's cheek.
***
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7.6
Jocelyn Yang lived in the grand Turner Mansion, not as a guest, but as a prisoner. Ever since her father's death, the ruthless billionaire Elam Turner forced her to atone for sins her father never committed.
On her nineteenth birthday, a male classmate secretly sent her a diamond necklace. Elam, who had flown back from London overnight, flew into a psychotic, jealous rage at the sight of another man's gift.
He mercilessly crushed the delicate necklace into the marble floor with his custom leather shoe.
"Did you forget what you are?" Elam hissed, dragging her into a pitch-black storage room. "You take gifts from other men behind my back?"
He pinned her to the dusty floorboards and violently assaulted her. The next morning, a wire transfer of $500,000 hit her bank account. He had humiliated her, broken her spirit, and was now casually trying to buy her silence. Later, when a broken bike left her walking miles through a freezing rainstorm, he just shoved scalding tea into her bleeding hands.
"Look at you," he sneered. "You look like a stray dog ruining my floors."
Jocelyn curled up in the cold, her lips bleeding and her heart shattered. She couldn't understand his terrifying obsession. If he hated her so much, why did he refuse to let her go? Why did he look at her with such manic hunger while systematically destroying her life?
Staring at the massive sum of hush money on her phone, a desperate spark of vengeance flared in her chest. Jocelyn wired every single cent back to Elam's account. She picked up her charcoal pencil, vowing to win the upcoming art competition and buy her escape from this monster forever.
9.1
He postponed putting my name on the deed 18 times.
Each time, his mentee Ciera had an “emergency.” Each time, he ran to her.
I watched him give her his prized Montblanc pen—the one he wouldn’t even let me borrow. I saw her post their late nights on Instagram. I ate anniversary dinners alone while he “mentored” her.
Then he bought me a necklace—identical to the one she just flaunted online.
That was when I stopped feeling anything.
I didn’t cry. I didn’t fight. I simply packed two suitcases, resigned from our firm, and booked a one-way ticket to London.
He thinks I’m coming back in a week.
He has no idea I’m gone for good.
Nineteen broken promises. One silent goodbye. And a new life waiting across the ocean.
8.7
For seven years, I was Alpha Zane’s Chosen Mate, suppressing my warrior instincts to be the docile, supportive partner he demanded.
On our seventh anniversary, while I waited by a candlelit table, I accidentally overheard his mind-link with another woman.
"Seven years is a habit, my dear, not love. She's docile, she'll understand."
He told Seraphina, his new political ally, laughing as he dismissed my entire existence.
I didn't scream or cry. I scraped the anniversary cake into the trash, drafted a formal rejection letter, and walked out of the packhouse.
But Zane didn't even notice my departure. He was so consumed by his new lover that my rejection letter was treated as garbage and tossed into the incinerator.
He paraded Seraphina around the pack, even handing my hard-earned strategic command over to her—a woman who knew absolutely nothing about war.
When my loyal subordinates protested, he violently suppressed them, declaring my absence a "childish tantrum" and framing me as the bitter obstacle to his destined romance.
He honestly thought I was just hiding in my room, waiting to beg for his charity and accept a humiliating demotion.
He had no idea that I had already crossed the border into enemy territory.
Tonight, I am attending his grand celebration.
Not as the heartbroken mate he discarded, but as the newly appointed Gamma of his deadliest rival, the Sterling Pack.
9.7
Eighteen months ago, the man I loved shattered my heart, claiming everything between us was a mistake. Now, he's back, a ghost of his former self, a rookie tryout in my pro esports team. And I will make him regret crawling back.
Clifton, captain of a legendary esports team, was secretly battling a severe wrist injury that threatened his career, every match a fight against his own body. He pushed through the pain, ignoring doctors' warnings, desperate to maintain his god-like status.
His world was already on the edge, but nothing prepared him for seeing Justice Terry again in the team basement. Justice, pale and trembling, his eyes wide with naked terror, was now a rookie tryout.
Clifton had spent a year and a half trying to forget that rainy Chicago alley, the raw revulsion in Justice's eyes, the whispered "it wasn't real" that had left him heartbroken. Justice had vanished, and Clifton had erased every trace. Now, the boy who once looked at him like he was the sun was back, flinching at his touch, displaying a deep, primal fear. Amidst sponsor pressure and whispers of being "washed," Clifton saw Justice's return as a chance for vengeance. He publicly humiliated Justice on a live stream, forcing him into a suicide mission, then coldly benched him.
Yet, the satisfaction never came. Instead, a hollow emptiness and a torrent of questions: What had truly happened in the past? Why was Justice here, and what trauma had carved such fear into his bones?
Clifton, unwilling to be fooled again, swore to uncover every secret and every lie. He would force Justice to explain why he had returned, even if it meant tearing down everything they both had left.
8.1
I lived my entire life in a beautiful, naive bubble, completely trusting my husband and my best friend.
That was until they tied me to a chair, slit my vocal cords, and set my family's estate on fire.
As the flames crept closer, my husband Demarco calmly crushed my diamond wedding ring under his leather heel.
My best friend Cristin walked in, leaning against his shoulder and pouring her champagne onto the floorboards to fuel the fire.
"Your grandfather didn't just have a stroke. The medication swap was incredibly easy to arrange."
Looking down at my bleeding body, they casually confessed to murdering the only person who had ever truly protected me, all to swallow the Bridges empire.
I couldn't even scream. I could only suffocate in the thick black smoke as they turned their backs and locked the heavy oak door behind them.
Why was I so blind? How could the two people I loved most treat me like disposable garbage?
In my final moments of agonizing pain and pure, concentrated fury, I pulled out the detonator my grandfather had secretly left me.
I pressed the button, blowing the estate and all of us to hell.
But the burning stopped.
When I opened my eyes, I was staring up at a pristine crystal chandelier.
I was fifteen years old again, lying in my childhood bedroom, right before my treacherous uncle and those parasites started tearing my family apart.
And I didn't come back empty-handed.
This time, I am not the naive heiress.
8.7
Jolie transmigrated into a high-tech universe ruled by beast-shifting Primals, only to wake up in the body of a "defective" female. With a Genetic Compatibility Index of zero, she was publicly discarded by her mandated military partner.
Before she could even adapt, her stepmother drugged her with an illegal aphrodisiac and locked her in a pitch-black suite with that same ex-fiancé—now a feral, maddened beast. The family wanted her torn apart to permanently erase their embarrassment.
But instead of dying, Jolie awakened a rare plant-manipulation power. She bound the raging General, drained his energy, robbed him blind, and fled to a remote farming planet. Just as she thought she was free, the Commonwealth system flashed a new mandate. They assigned her a new husband: Keanu Robertson, a psychotic assassin who had murdered his last three wives.
The system wasn't giving her a partner; it was handing her a death warrant. Keanu despised females, especially a "useless" zero-GCI burden. He tracked her forged alias across the galaxy, descending upon her barren farm in the dead of night with pure murderous intent. How could a discarded, defective girl survive the most feared apex predator in the Shadow Sector?
But as the legendary assassin stepped onto her property to finish the job, a mutated, neurotoxic vine whipped out and completely paralyzed him. Watching the massive killer crash face-first into the dirt, Jolie lowered her rifle and smiled.
"Welcome home, husband."