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Jilted Heiress: Seducing My Fiancé's Ruthless Uncle Novel Cover

Jilted Heiress: Seducing My Fiancé's Ruthless Uncle

I stood in the center of the Pierre Hotel’s grand ballroom, a mute, smiling doll in a Dior dress. My job was to signal stability to investors while my fiancé, Clive Fitzpatrick, looked for any excuse to ignore me. The night of our engagement, the world turned into a different kind of hell. I watched Clive disappear onto the terrace with another woman, his hand possessively on her waist. Distraught and drunk, I stumbled into a dark penthouse suite seeking sanctuary. I woke up the next morning to a gravelly voice and the smell of expensive tobacco. I hadn't slept with my fiancé; I had accidentally spent the night with his uncle, Bruno Fitzpatrick—the man Wall Street called the "executioner." The humiliation was only the beginning. Clive didn't just cheat; he admitted he was only marrying me to steal my family's voting rights so I could "rot" in an apartment while he lived with his mistress. When I tried to protest, my adoptive mother, Claudia, dragged me into a private room and whipped me with a riding crop to remind me of my place. She held up a video of my frail, sick sister, Lucia, making it clear that my total obedience was the only thing keeping Lucia alive. I was a business asset to be traded, used, and beaten into submission. I couldn't understand why everyone I was supposed to trust was so eager to destroy me. Was I really just a mannequin to be discarded once the merger papers were signed? The marks on my back burned, but the ice in my veins was colder. I was done being the victim of a mediocre man and a heartless mother. Then Bruno offered me a way out. At the family dinner, right in front of my cheating fiancé, he proposed a lethal bet: if I could raise the company’s stock by ten percent in thirty days, he would give me his board veto—the ultimate power to crush Clive and Claudia forever. If I failed, I would owe him any favor he asked. I looked at the man who had ruined me and the man who wanted to own me, and I realized I had nothing left to lose. I wasn't going to be a doll anymore; I was going to be the one who burned the house down.
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Chapter 4

The ringing continued. It sounded like a siren.

Ivy's hand trembled so badly she almost dropped the phone. Bruno watched her, his expression unreadable, his hand resting heavy and hot on her thigh.

She swiped the green icon. She hit the speaker button.

"Ivy?" Clive's voice filled the car. It was impatient. Sharp. "Where the hell are you? Catrina said you left the party early because you were 'sick'."

Ivy closed her eyes. She forced air into her lungs.

"I… yes. I wasn't feeling well."

Her voice sounded thin.

"Where did you go? I called the apartment, you weren't there."

"I stayed at a friend's house," Ivy lied. "I didn't want to be alone."

Bruno leaned in. His teeth grazed the shell of her ear. He bit down, gently but with enough pressure to send a shockwave down her spine.

Ivy gasped. She slapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide.

Clive paused. "What was that?"

"Nothing," Ivy choked out. "I… I stubbed my toe."

Bruno's hand moved. He slid his fingers under the hem of the shirt. His touch was deliberate. Teasing.

Clive sighed. "God, you're clumsy. Look, just get back to the city. We have the family dinner tonight at the manor. Don't be late."

Ivy grabbed Bruno's wrist, trying to stop him. It was like trying to stop a hydraulic press. He didn't budge.

"I'll be there," she said.

"Wear the blue dress," Clive ordered. "Mom likes that one. It makes you look… respectable."

Bruno's eyes darkened. The playfulness vanished. He pinched the soft skin of her inner thigh. Hard.

Ivy bit her lip so hard she tasted copper. A whimper escaped her throat before she could stop it.

"Clive? Are you there?" she asked quickly, covering the noise.

"Yeah. Just don't embarrass me tonight, Ivy. I'm hanging up."

The line went dead.

Ivy dropped the phone. She slumped back against the leather seat, gasping for air as if she had just run a marathon.

Bruno pulled away. He looked at her with a mix of disgust and fascination.

"A friend's house? Stubbed your toe?" He scoffed. "You're a natural liar, Ivy."

"You forced me," Ivy whispered.

Bruno reached out and grabbed her face, squishing her cheeks between his fingers.

"Remember this feeling," he said. His voice was low. "Every time you lie to him. Every time you play the good little wife. You'll think of me."

The car slowed down.

"Boss, we're here," Hank's voice came over the intercom.

Bruno released her. He sat back and adjusted his tie. In a split second, the lust and the darkness were hidden behind the mask of the CEO.

He reached down and picked up a paper shopping bag from the floor. He tossed it into her lap.

"Change. I don't want you walking into your building wearing my shirt. It sends the wrong message. Or maybe the right one, but too early."

Ivy opened the bag. Inside was a dress. A pale cream sheath dress. It was simple, elegant, and looked incredibly expensive.

She looked at him. "How…?"

"I have sisters," Bruno said dismissively. "I know sizes."

He opened the door and stepped out onto the curb.

Ivy scrambled to change in the back of the car. Her fingers fumbled with the zipper. She felt exposed, even with the tinted windows.

She stepped out of the car. They were two blocks away from her apartment building. A safe distance.

Bruno was lighting another cigar. He didn't look at her.

"See you tonight, Ivy."

He got back in the car. The door slammed.

Ivy stood on the sidewalk, clutching the paper bag with his shirt inside. She watched the black car disappear into the New York traffic.

She felt dirty. She felt terrified.

And for the first time in her life, she felt alive.

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