Married To My Ex's Ruthless Uncle
My father was dying in the ICU, and our family company, the Martin Group, was on the verge of total collapse.
While I was desperately trying to sign the consent form for his life-saving surgery, my fiancé, Eston, sent me a text.
"I told you not to be stubborn. The company is mine by Friday. Beg me, and I might pay for the funeral."
He had been secretly looting my family's assets from the inside, waiting for me to break so he could steal everything. He thought I would crawl back to him in absolute despair, surrendering my father's legacy just to survive. The sheer weight of my helplessness crushed my chest as the heart monitor next to my father's bed let out a frantic, high-pitched scream.
The betrayal tore through me, but the despair quickly hardened into a cold, sharp stone.
Why should I let the man who ruined me dance on my family's grave? Why should I let him walk away with everything while I lost the only family I had left?
I wiped away my tears and blocked his number permanently.
Then, I stepped out into the freezing Manhattan rain and went straight to the top floor of the Maxwell building.
I threw my remaining shares onto the desk of Ellwood Maxwell—the apex predator of Wall Street, and Eston's untouchable, ruthless uncle.
"I want you to marry me," Ellwood said, pushing a marriage contract toward me. "That is the only way your company survives."
I picked up the pen. If Eston wanted to destroy my life, I would become his aunt and make him bow.
Chapters
Share
Chapter 4
Audriana's heart fluttered wildly against her ribs. She watched a waiter walk by with a silver tray of wedding favors—small, velvet boxes of artisan chocolates.
She reached out and grabbed two boxes.
She spotted Eston propped against a marble pillar near the french doors, his aluminum crutches jammed under his armpits, a napkin pressed to his bleeding lip. His right leg hung uselessly in the heavy medical brace, the toe of his shoe barely grazing the floor. His crutch tips were planted wide to keep him upright, and even from across the room she could see his knuckles were white from gripping the handles. His eyes were fixed on her, burning with humiliation. Audriana adjusted her posture and walked straight toward him. Her heels clicked sharply against the floor.
Ellwood didn't stop her. He stood back, taking a sip of his bourbon, watching her with dark, amused eyes.
Audriana stopped right in front of Eston. She shoved the velvet boxes into his chest. He fumbled, one hand releasing its death grip on the crutch handle just long enough to trap the boxes against his sternum before they fell. "Have some wedding candy, nephew. It's sweet."
Eston looked like he wanted to vomit. His hands shook as he held the boxes. He glanced past her shoulder, saw Ellwood watching, and swallowed his rage.
Audriana leaned in close. "If you ever come near me again, I won't need him to break your leg. I will do it myself."
Eston's face turned gray. He couldn't say a word.
Audriana turned around and walked back to Ellwood. Her chest rose and fell rapidly. A rush of pure, vindictive adrenaline pumped through her veins.
Ellwood picked up a pink macaron from a dessert table and handed it to her. "Like a kitten showing her claws," he murmured, his voice low and teasing.
Audriana's ears burned. She took the cookie, avoiding his gaze.
The head butler approached them, bowing slightly. "Mr. Maxwell. Your father requests your presence in the upstairs study."
Ellwood's jaw tightened. The playful mood vanished instantly. He looked at Audriana. "Stay in the crowd. Do not wander off."
He followed the butler up the stairs.
Upstairs, the heavy study doors closed behind Ellwood.
Prescott Maxwell sat in a leather wheelchair behind a massive desk. He threw a manila folder onto the wood.
"Explain this," Prescott demanded, his voice raspy. "You marry a bankrupt girl out of nowhere?"
Ellwood walked to the window, looking down at the ballroom floor. "It was a business acquisition."
Prescott let out a harsh, mocking laugh. "Don't lie to me, boy. I saw the photos. I saw her eyes. Her eyes remind me of some very unpleasant memories. Ellwood, do not stumble over the same mistake twice. You know exactly who I am talking about."
Ellwood froze. The silver lighter in his hand slipped, clattering loudly onto the windowsill. The temperature in the room plummeted to freezing.
He turned around. His eyes were pitch black, filled with a violent, suppressed rage. "Do not cross that line, old man. My marriage is mine."
Prescott sighed, rubbing his temples. "The past is gone, Ellwood. Do not ruin an innocent girl's life just because you need a ghost to hold onto."
Ellwood didn't answer. He turned on his heel and walked out, slamming the door so hard the walls shook.
Downstairs, Audriana was looking out the window when she heard footsteps. Frances was walking toward her, holding a full glass of red wine. Her eyes were fixed on the fabric of Audriana's black silk gown.
Frances feigned a sudden stumble, her wrist flicking forward intentionally to send the full glass of red wine flying directly at the skirt of Audriana's pristine black gown. Audriana saw it coming. In a split second, she pivoted sharply to the left, stepping completely out of the trajectory. Frances lost her balance and stumbled forward, but the dark red liquid sailed past Audriana, splashing violently all over the expensive cream Chanel suit of a wealthy socialite standing just behind her. Audriana glanced down. The dark wine had missed her entirely. A flicker of grim satisfaction crossed her face—black fabric hid a multitude of sins. Frances had miscalculated.
The woman shrieked. Chaos erupted. Frances scrambled to apologize, her face bright red with embarrassment.
Audriana didn't stay to watch. She slipped through the French doors and stepped out into the cool night air of the gardens.
The garden was dimly lit by small ground lamps. The heavy scent of blooming roses filled the air. Audriana walked toward the large stone fountain. Her feet were killing her. She kicked off her high heels, letting her bare feet touch the cold stone edge of the fountain. She let out a long breath.
A metallic scraping sound echoed behind her. Crutch tips dragging across the stone pathway.
Audriana spun around.
A tall shadow lurched out from behind the thick rose bushes. The overwhelming stench of cheap whiskey hit her face.
Eston stood there. His weight was braced on his crutches, his shattered leg dangling limp in the heavy brace, the toe of his shoe scraping uselessly against the ground. He heaved himself forward another step, the crutches grinding against the stone as he swung his useless leg between them, blocking her only path back to the house.
You may also like
8.6
In my past life, the Cerberus strain leaked, turning the world into a blood-soaked hell of rotting flesh and mutated monsters.
I thought my boyfriend Declan and my best friend Hailee would have my back as we fled the quarantine zone.
Instead, when the surging crowd of the infected cornered us, they didn't hesitate.
They shoved me backward into the horde just to buy themselves three seconds to run.
As I fell into the mud, I saw them fleeing without a single backward glance.
"She's dead weight anyway!" Hailee screamed.
"Just keep running, she'll distract them!" Declan yelled back.
I was torn apart, feeling the agonizing tear of rotting teeth sinking into my neck and the hot spray of my own blood.
Before the apocalypse, my greedy uncle had locked away my ten-million-dollar trust fund, leaving me with nothing but a fake boyfriend who only wanted me for my money.
Until my last breath, I couldn't understand how the people I loved most could trade my life for a head start.
Why did I blindly trust them? Why didn't I see through their perfectly choreographed lies?
Opening my eyes again, the stench of decaying flesh vanished, replaced by the sterile smell of my college dorm room.
Hailee and Declan were standing over my bed, faking tears of concern over my meningitis fever.
I was back exactly seven days before the world ended, and my spatial vault ability had come back with me.
This time, I'm extorting my uncle for every cent, hoarding the city's supplies, and leaving them all to rot.
9.3
She sells flowers. He spills blood. And he will stop at nothing to make her his. Elena Rossi has always lived quietly among roses and lilies, dreaming of love as gentle as the petals she arranges. She thought she found it in Daniel, the man she planned to marry. Until her wedding day when a dangerous stranger walked into the church and shattered everything. Adrian Volkov is a king in the underworld, a man feared for his ruthlessness and power. But to him, Elena is not just a prize. She is an obsession. A storm he cannot live without. And he will burn the world and anyone in it, to claim her. Torn from the life she knew, Elena resists him, manipulates him, and even runs from him. But Adrian is relentless. His love is dark, his touch both punishing and tender, and his obsession inescapable. When betrayal and bloodshed close in, Elena must face the truth: She doesn't just fear him. She doesn't just hate him. She loves him. Petals and Blood is a haunting, passionate tale of obsession, betrayal, and the dangerous kind of love that blooms in shadows.
9.2
She loved him until she lost herself.
Now, behind locked doors and shattered glass, she must learn to breathe again.
When she first met Lloyd, he was magnetic and intoxicating. The kind of man who turned every head when he entered a room, who spoke in promises sweet enough to taste. With him, she felt chosen, cherished, and safe.
But safety was an illusion, and love became a weapon.
And slowly, piece by piece, he dismantled her until nothing of the woman she once was remained.
Now institutionalized after a breakdown, she begins to piece together the brutal truth of what really happened in the shadows of their love story. Memories sting like open wounds: the manipulation disguised as tenderness, the apologies that blurred into threats, the desperate hope that tomorrow he'd be the man she fell for again.
Yet beneath the grief and the shame, a quiet rebellion stirs, a vow to reclaim her voice, her freedom, and her life. Because this is not just a story of how she fell apart. It is a story of how she rises.
Haunting, raw, and achingly intimate, Boys like him peels back the glittering mask of a toxic love affair to reveal the kind of darkness that hides in plain sight, and the unbreakable strength it takes to escape it.
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.
7.4
Clara Davis was trained to seduce, deceive, and destroy.
Her mission is simple: infiltrate billionaire Jeffery Rothwell's life, gain his trust, and help seize his empire in exchange for the freedom she has always craved.
But the deeper she slips into his dangerous world, the more the lines between mission and desire begin to blur. Falling for him was never part of the plan and neither was discovering that the man she was sent to manipulate may not be the real Jeffery at all.
Now trapped in a deadly web of obsession, power, and hidden identities. Clara is caught between the organization that owns her, the monster who remade her, and a love that has turned into vengeance. Clara must survive a man who sees everything, controls everything, and may be far more dangerous than the organization that created her.
Because in this game of seduction and revenge, love might be the deadliest trap of all.
9.5
"You shouldn't be here, Fiona," his deep voice rasped against her ear, his hand still pressed against the wall behind her.
"Then tell me to leave," she whispered, her lips trembling inches from his. He didn't move. He didn't breathe. And in that moment, she knew he wanted her just as much as she wanted him.
Fiona Harry has lived her whole life in a golden cage of wealth, reputation, and suffocating rules. University was supposed to be her escape, her first taste of freedom. But nothing could prepare her for the moment she came face-to-face with Professor Jalen Hart, her father's best friend. One reckless night changes everything. A drunken mistake turns into an irresistible obsession, pulling her deeper into Jalen's forbidden world. But secrets don't stay hidden forever. Between Jude, her possessive friend who knows too much, Marian, Jalen's wicked wife, and the dangerous power of desire, Fiona is about to risk not only hers and her family's reputation but her entire future.
And what happens when the truth comes out especially to Marian?