MARRIED TO MY EX'S RUTHLESS BILLIONAIRE UNCLE
Nica caught her boyfriend, Chris, and her best friend, Ella, in a shocking betrayal. Chris was kissing Ella while caressing her close, and Ella only smirked at Nica as if she had won. Nica got pissed off and swore she would not let their betrayal go unpunished. What happens next? Read the story and find out for yourself.
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Chapter 5
Nica looked disappointed, but Jordan suddenly started smiling.
"I was just kidding," he said. "That contract is only for you, and you alone."
Nica was stunned and did not know what to say.
Jordan asked her to follow him, and soon they arrived at his office. Nica stared in amazement.
"Wow..." she whispered. The exterior of the building was breathtaking.
As they entered, she was even more shocked. The inside looked like heaven itself...elegant, luxurious, and beautifully designed.
Jordan offered her a seat and told her to wait, explaining that he had an urgent meeting to attend.
While sitting alone in his office, Nica carefully observed the setting and arrangement of the room. Her eyes landed on the portraits hanging on the walls, and she stood up to admire them.
Suddenly, thoughts of betrayal from her ex-boyfriend and former best friend flooded her mind. Her expression hardened with determination. She would expose her so-called best friend's lies and make her boyfriend beg for forgiveness but by then, it would already be too late.
Lost in thought, she barely noticed when Jordan's guard walked in.
"Do you need anything while waiting for Mr. Jordan?" he asked respectfully.
"Just a bottle of water will do," she replied.
Meanwhile, during the meeting, Jordan listened as reports of Chris's mismanagement were presented.
Chris quickly interrupted. "Uncle, please... such conduct will never happen again."
Jordan's face remained cold.
"I do not give second chances."
With those words, he fired Chris on the spot.
Chris refused to accept it and continued begging desperately, but Jordan ended the meeting and announced that a replacement would be found immediately.
As Jordan walked back toward his office, Chris followed closely behind, pleading nonstop. Jordan ignored him completely.
When Jordan opened the office door and stepped inside, Chris caught sight of Nica sitting there. His eyes widened in disbelief.
"No... no, no. Nica can't be here," he muttered. "Maybe I'm imagining things."
To clear his doubts, he remained outside the office.
Back inside, Jordan asked gently, "Are you okay?"
He then ordered his guard to bring the contract documents for Nica to review and sign.
While waiting, Nica pointed at a portrait titled Golden Muse.
"How did you get this?" she asked softly. "That portrait belonged to my mother." Nica said in her thought.
Jordan looked at it thoughtfully.
"I once helped a woman who was in danger," he explained. "She insisted I accept it so she could feel at peace."
Nica wanted to ask more questions, but the guard returned with the documents and handed them to Jordan.
Jordan opened them, pointed to the pages, and showed Nica where to sign after reading through them carefully.
Nica signed.
Jordan felt deeply satisfied. I must win her over, he thought.
For a long time, Jordan had admired Nica from a distance. The only thing that stopped him was the fact that she had been dating his nephew, a complete disgrace in his eyes.
He gently took Nica's hand.
"I will never force you to do anything that hurts you," he said. "And always remember this... you are mine now. I will never let anyone harm you."
For the first time in a long while, Nica felt safe... protected... valued... like someone's priority. It was everything Chris had never made her feel.
Lost in those emotions, she barely heard Jordan ask, "Are you okay?"
"Yes... I... am... fine," she stammered.
Jordan smiled faintly and told her to wait outside while he went to get the car.
As Nica stood outside, Chris suddenly attacked from behind with his words.
"Well, well, well... look who is here. What are you doing in a place like this? This place is far above your class."
Nica smirked coldly.
"That's rich coming from a nobody who survives by hiding behind family connections."
Chris glared angrily.
"At least it's better than where you come from."
He tried to grab her, but Nica swiftly stepped aside, causing him to stumble face-first onto the ground.
She looked down at him without emotion.
"We are done. It's over between us."
Without another word, she walked toward Jordan's car.
Jordan had already opened the door for her. She entered gracefully, and then he turned to Chris.
"This is my final warning," Jordan said darkly. "Never lay your hands on her again. Next time, you may not be so lucky."
Jordan then drove Nica to her house and helped carry her bags to the car.
As they both reached for the same bag, their hands touched.
They froze.
Their eyes locked intensely, neither willing to look away.
Slowly, Jordan leaned closer, about to kiss her......
But suddenly, a cat meowed loudly from behind them.
Nica jumped back in embarrassment.
"Sorry!" she blurted out.
Jordan raised an eyebrow. "Sorry for what?"
Flustered and speechless, Nica quickly turned and walked away.
Jordan simply stood there, smiling at her adorable reaction as he made his way back to his car.
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7.9
I woke up in a sterile hospital room, my head split open from a horrific car crash.
But the pain in my skull was nothing compared to the memory burned into my retinas just before the impact: my billionaire husband, Dawson, walking into a luxury hotel with a woman who looked exactly like his dead first love.
When Dawson finally arrived at the ward, there was no panic or relief in his eyes. He just coldly looked at my bloody bandages.
"Your reckless driving just forced me to postpone the quarterly board meeting."
Even our seven-year-old son, who I almost died giving birth to, didn't spare me a single glance. He kicked my hospital bed in annoyance.
"The Wi-Fi here is garbage. You're a bad mom! Dad said Aunt Angelita should be the one living with us!"
My blood turned to ice. For five years, I had bent over backward, wearing the hideous pale dresses he picked, starving myself to maintain a fragile figure, all to be a perfect, obedient substitute for a ghost.
And this was what I got. An unfaithful husband who would rather bury me in debt than grant me a divorce, and a son who wished I was dead.
The weak, subservient Charlene died on that wet asphalt.
When the doctor pointed to Dawson and asked for his name, I looked at my husband with a hollow, defensive stare.
"Who are you?" I whispered.
Using retrograde amnesia as my shield, I was going to tear their perfect world apart.
8.4
Carissa's son was dying in the ICU, and the bone marrow match had just failed.
The billionaire father, Guilford Gates, cornered her with a cruel ultimatum: naturally conceive a "savior sibling" to save their son. But what shocked Carissa more was his family's sudden accusation that she had heartlessly sold her baby to them three years ago.
"You sold your own flesh and blood to us for five million dollars, so your body belongs to the Gates family."
She was dragged into their gilded estate, treated like a filthy, rented womb. Guilford's new fiancée mocked her, the matriarch humiliated her, and Guilford looked at her with pure disgust. When she desperately tried to feed her sick son and accidentally made him vomit, Guilford violently shoved her away and banned her from the room.
Carissa was devastated and entirely confused. She had never seen a single cent of that five million. Driven by a desperate need for the truth, she investigated and uncovered a horrifying reality: her own father and stepmother had secretly trafficked her baby to the billionaire behind her back, leaving her to bear the ultimate blame.
Looking at the bank transfer record bought with her son's life, the last shred of Carissa's vulnerability died.
She signed the conception contract without asking for a single penny. She was going to use the Gates family's immense power to destroy the blood relatives who sold her, and she would survive this hell to take back her son.
7.2
Azura Briggs was just a broke college student working freezing valet shifts to pay her adoptive mother's crushing medical debt.
Her desperate life shattered the night a bulletproof Maybach violently cornered her in an alley, and a ruthless billionaire kidnapped her by mistake.
After a harrowing escape, Azura was forced to take a humiliating "plus-one" gig at a high-end gala just to survive. But her date turned out to be the billionaire's arrogant nephew, who promptly abandoned her to the wolves. Cornered by a sleazy executive and his psychotic wife, Azura was publicly slapped, her dress torn, and left bleeding on the floor while hundreds of elites watched in disgust.
Just as she prepared to fight to the death, the crowd violently parted. Hunter Mcintosh, the terrifying man who had kidnapped her days ago, dropped to his knees in the broken glass and wrapped his bespoke jacket around her trembling shoulders.
Azura was completely paralyzed. Why was the monster who threatened her life now destroying billionaires just to protect her?
But the illusion of safety didn't last. Trapped in his Maybach hours later, Hunter threw a draconian employment contract at her feet.
"Sign it, and her care is covered. Forever."
He knew exactly how to break her. He was offering to pay off her mother's debt, but only if she signed her life away to become his personal assistant. With no other way out, Azura picked up the heavy pen.
7.9
On my wedding day, my fiancé Connor received an urgent phone call.
He told me a D-list actress had broken her leg on set, then abandoned me right at the altar.
In my past life, I cried until my throat bled, begging him not to leave.
But my tears only brought endless humiliation. My mother and adopted sister mocked me, framed me, and forged my signature to steal my multi-million dollar trust fund.
They kicked me out of the family estate without a single dime.
I ended up freezing to death in the minus-twenty-degree New York blizzard, listening to my mother's voicemail telling me to die in the street as long as I didn't bleed on her carpets.
Until my last breath, I couldn't understand why my own blood relatives hated me so much, yet treated an adopted daughter like a precious princess.
The only person who showed me any mercy—draping his wool coat over my frozen corpse and giving me a proper burial—was Connor's ruthless, untouchable uncle, Harding Snow.
Opening my eyes again, I was back in the bridal suite, right as Connor was rushing out the door.
This time, I didn't shed a single tear.
I let him run to his actress, then walked straight into the VIP room to face the most feared billionaire on Wall Street.
"The wedding proceeds as planned, but the groom's name changes to yours."
7.6
My father raised seven brilliant orphans to be my potential husbands. For years, I only had eyes for one of them, the cold and distant Damien Paul, believing his distance was a wall I just had to break through.
That belief shattered last night when I found him in the garden, kissing his foster sister, Eve—the fragile girl my family took in at his request, the one I had treated like my own sister.
But the true horror came when I overheard the other six Fellows talking in the library.
They weren't competing for me. They were working together, orchestrating "accidents" and mocking my "stupid, blind" devotion to keep me away from Damien.
Their loyalty wasn't to me, the heiress who held their futures in her hands. It was to Eve.
I wasn't a woman to be won. I was a foolish burden to be managed. The seven men I grew up with, the men who owed my family everything, were a cult, and she was their queen.
This morning, I walked into my father's study to make a decision that would burn their world to the ground. He smiled, asking if I'd finally won Damien over.
"No, Dad," I said, my voice firm. "I'm marrying Hunter Beach."
9.4
I was the eldest daughter of the powerful Kirk family, sent away to a Swiss sanatorium to recover from my supposed mental illness.
But my stepmother, Johnie, never intended for me to get better. She sent her personal cleaners to drag me onto a plane back to Washington D.C.
In my past life, I didn't know they were assassins. I was forcefully injected with heavy sedatives and locked in a secret torture chamber inside our luxury estate.
My stepmother and cousin skimmed my inheritance while watching me suffer.
They framed me as a crazy addict, and my own father, a sitting Senator, turned a blind eye to protect his political career.
"Her political value is gone, just get rid of her quietly."
That was the last thing I heard my father say before I was brutally slaughtered by my own family.
Until my last breath, I couldn't understand why they hated me so much.
Why did my father let them force those pills down my throat?
Why was my life worth less than my stepmother's public image?
Opening my eyes again, the freezing sensation of lake water filling my lungs vanished.
I was back in the VIP room of the St. Moritz Sanatorium in 2023.
It was the exact morning before the cleaners walked through my door with uncapped syringes.
This time, I wouldn't just survive. I was going to cut the throat of the Kirk family.