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 3
"Enough!" Daniel Harrison roared. "Stop acting like a spoiled brat. Whether you want to or not, this wedding is happening!"
Linda's eyes sparkled with barely concealed satisfaction, though her voice sounded full of fake concern.
"Dad, don't be angry," she said softly. "Maybe Navia's just acting impulsively..."
"And you're still defending her?" Daniel snapped. "It's because Evelyn spoiled her rotten growing up that she turned into such a useless disappointment! If she had even half your maturity and obedience, she wouldn't be humiliating this family today!"
Members of the Crawford family also began mocking her openly.
"Come on, Miss Harrison. We'll pretend we didn't hear what you just said."
"If you still care about your family's reputation, you'll cooperate and finish the ceremony."
"You're marrying into the Crawford family now. Stop acting like some untouchable princess."
"Keep making a scene and you'll regret it."
Every gaze directed at Navia carried either contempt or ridicule, as though she were foolish for resisting.
Her heart turned completely cold.
She had expected the Crawford family's reaction.
But she never imagined her own father would stand against her too-especially while Linda kept fueling the fire from the sidelines.
To them, Navia wasn't exposing betrayal.
She was simply embarrassing the family.
"Fine," Navia said softly.
"Fine. Fine."
She slowly looked around at every face surrounding her, memorizing each expression.
Then she took a deep breath.
"If all of you are so desperate to watch me make a fool of myself..." A smile suddenly appeared on her lips-beautiful, heartbreaking, and strangely calm. "Then open your eyes and watch this."
A small remote appeared in her hand.
She pressed the button.
The next second-
"Ah... Liam, you're amazing... If you keep this up, won't you be too exhausted for your wedding night tomorrow?"
"Still worried about my wedding night, baby? Guess I haven't worked you hard enough yet..."
The giant screen behind the ceremony had originally been prepared to display childhood photos and romantic memories of Liam and Navia growing up together.
Instead-
An explicit video suddenly filled the screen.
The faces of the groom, Liam Crawford, and the bridesmaid, Linda, were unmistakably clear.
Their tangled bodies.
Their intimate sounds.
Broadcast through the wedding speakers for every guest to hear.
And worst of all-
The ceremony was being streamed live.
The surrounding media reporters froze in shock, completely blindsided by the disaster unfolding before them. Even though someone rushed to cut the broadcast, fragments of the footage had already gone out to the public.
The guests exploded into chaos.
Every pair of eyes turned toward Liam and Linda simultaneously.
Linda's face turned deathly pale.
Unable to handle the shock, she let out a scream before collapsing unconscious onto the ground.
Liam completely lost control.
He lunged toward Navia like a madman.
"Navia Harrison, you bitch!" he roared. "You ruined me!"
At that moment, the fake tenderness vanished completely.
The handsome, devoted fiancé mask shattered, revealing something ugly and vicious beneath.
Navia grabbed a flower vase from one of the nearby tables and smashed it directly into his face with all her strength.
CRASH!
"AAAGH!"
Liam screamed as blood poured down his forehead. He collapsed to the ground clutching his head.
The entire wedding descended into complete chaos.
"Why won't the video shut off?! Turn it off now!"
"Did they cut the livestream yet?! Don't let any clips leak online!"
"My son! Are you okay?!" Liam's mother shrieked hysterically. "Navia Harrison, you vicious woman! Someone grab her right now! She has to pay for this!"
"Linda! Linda, wake up! My poor daughter... how could you do something so stupid..."
Dark storm clouds rolled overhead.
Even the sky itself seemed to know this wedding was doomed.
Ignoring everyone's furious stares, Navia lifted the hem of her wedding dress and walked away from the ceremony.
Only after leaving did she realize one major problem.
The wedding venue was far outside the city.
There were no taxis.
She stood by the roadside as luxury cars passed one after another without slowing down.
No one intended to help her.
After all, she had publicly humiliated the Crawford family and dragged her half-sister into scandal as well. At a time like this, the smartest choice was to stay far away from her.
Navia almost wanted to laugh.
At least her mother was unconscious in the hospital and couldn't witness any of this.
Back when Navia had still been the beloved heiress of the Harrison family, countless people had rushed to flatter and please her.
But now that she was in trouble?
Not a single person offered help.
All those so-called friendships had vanished the instant she became inconvenient.
Rain suddenly poured from the sky.
Within moments, the storm became torrential.
Navia walked alone down the empty road, soaked to the bone.
Her high heels slipped repeatedly against the wet pavement until she twisted her ankle.
A sharp pain shot through her leg.
Finally, exhausted, she collapsed onto the ground.
Her once-pristine white wedding dress was stained with mud.
Like a swan with broken wings, dragged down from the sky.
Navia wrapped her arms around her knees and lowered her head, forcing herself not to cry as rainwater washed over her face.
Impulsive?
Maybe.
Pathetic?
Absolutely.
Did she regret it?
Not even a little.
If she had to choose again, she would still destroy them without hesitation.
No one was allowed to steal what belonged to the Harrison family.
And she, Navia Harrison, was not some weak girl who could be trampled on.
Just then-
A car horn sounded faintly behind her.
Beep. Beep.
Navia thought she was imagining it.
But when she turned around, she saw a black Bentley parked behind her.
And then-
A tall figure stepped out into the rain.
Leonel Crawford approached slowly beneath a black umbrella, dressed in a dark overcoat.
The headlights behind him glowed through the heavy rain, blurring the world into something dreamlike and hazy.
Drops of water dampened the edges of his coat, yet his sharp features only appeared colder and more imposing beneath the storm.
He stopped in front of her.
The rain above Navia disappeared beneath the shelter of his umbrella, allowing her to regain a sliver of awareness.
"Uncle Leonel..." she murmured instinctively.
The man lowered his eyes slightly.
"Whose uncle am I?" he asked calmly.
Navia pressed her lips together.
Only then did she remember-
After publicly ending her engagement to Liam, she no longer had the right to call him that.
"...Mr. Crawford," she corrected softly.
Leonel said nothing.
Instead, he extended his hand toward her.
"Get up."
His fingers were long and defined, rough with faint calluses. The warmth of his hand felt almost scorching against her freezing skin.
Navia took his hand awkwardly and struggled back to her feet.
"Get in the car," he said.
She hesitated before asking quietly, "Why are you helping me?"
Leonel's voice remained calm and distant.
"You saved my life," he replied. "Didn't you?"
At that moment, Navia silently thanked herself for rescuing him the night before.
Otherwise, she might really have been left alone to collapse in the middle of nowhere.
She glanced down at her injured ankle and soaked, filthy wedding dress.
"But my clothes are dirty," she said hesitantly. "I might ruin your car."
Leonel handed her the umbrella.
"Hold this."
"Huh?"
Navia instinctively took it.
The next second, before she could react, Leonel bent down and swept her into his arms.
***
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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."