Marrying My Cheating Fiance's Ruthless Uncle
In my past life, my fiancé Grayson Falcone locked me in an abandoned warehouse to die of a fever while he paraded his mistress around the city.
I opened my eyes and was reborn right on the night of the Plaza Hotel gala.
Just like before, Grayson swam right past me in the freezing fountain, pulling his dripping mistress into his arms in front of New York's elite mafia families.
He publicly shattered our honor, leaving me to face absolute social death.
But this time, Damon Falcone—Grayson's uncle and the most feared Don in the city—stepped out of the shadows, wrapped me in his coat, and carried me away.
To safely destroy the betrothal, I decided to become Grayson's worst nightmare. I played the suffocatingly devoted fiancée, even "accidentally" feeding him his lethal allergen.
But my plan completely backfired.
Instead of breaking the engagement, Grayson developed a sick, morbid fascination with my lethal intentions.
Even worse, Damon cornered me in his private shooting range, his eyes burning with a terrifying, dark obsession as he pinned me against his chest.
I didn't understand why my calculated revenge was spiraling so dangerously out of control.
Thanks to the vicious rumors about Damon carrying me away, the furious family matriarch slammed her hand on the table to protect the family's honor.
"The rumors end now. Grayson and Isabella will marry next month."
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Chapter 10
Isabella POV
"I-I wasn't," I stammered, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird beneath his predatory gaze. "It was just a dream."
Damon didn't believe me. The muscle in his jaw feathered again, his storm-blue eyes darkening into a terrifying abyss of possessive rage. He thought I was dreaming of Grayson. He thought I was pining for the boy who had left me to drown.
His hand shot out, his long fingers wrapping around my upper arm with bruising, absolute force. He hauled me out of the leather chair, dragging me past the mahogany desk and toward a heavy steel door concealed behind a bookshelf. The sheer, suffocating dominance rolling off him left me entirely paralyzed.
"Uncle, please-"
He shoved the door open, pulling me into a narrow, soundproofed room. The air instantly turned sharp, reeking of cordite, gun oil, and cold metal. It was a private shooting range, a steel-walled vault of violence hidden right inside his penthouse.
Damon snatched a heavy Colt M1911 from the metal counter and shoved it into my trembling hands. Before I could drop the weapon, his massive frame boxed me in. He stepped flush against my back, his broad chest a cage of burning heat against my shivering spine. I was entirely swallowed by his shadow.
"Your aim is pathetic," he murmured, his voice a lethal, velvet rasp that scraped against my nerve endings. His large hands completely devoured mine, his rough calluses scraping against my soft skin as he forced my arms up, locking my elbows into position.
I couldn't breathe. I was drowning in the scent of his cedar cologne and the raw, dangerous power radiating from him.
"Shoot," Damon commanded, his thumb pressing down hard on the nape of my neck, sending a violent shiver straight to my core. "Imagine the center of that target is his face. Now, blow his name out of your fucking head."
He squeezed my finger over the trigger. The deafening crack of the gunshot shattered the silence, the heavy recoil sending a shockwave through my frail shoulders. But Damon's body absorbed the impact, holding me perfectly, terrifyingly still. I was trapped in his violent embrace, terrified of his wrath, yet my face burned with a shameful, undeniable heat that betrayed my own sanity.
An hour later, the armored Cadillac dropped me off at The Villa. My legs felt like lead as I stepped into the grand marble foyer. I caught my reflection in the gilded mirror above the console table and froze.
My hair was disheveled. My lips were slightly swollen from biting them in fear, and a distinct, angry red mark bloomed on the side of my neck where Damon's thumb had pressed too hard. It wasn't just a bruise; it was a brand.
"Good evening, Miss Rossi."
I spun around. Maria, Eleanor's personal maid, stood near the staircase, a dusting cloth in her hand. Her eyes darted directly to the mark on my neck. A sickeningly triumphant gleam flashed in her gaze before she quickly bowed her head, masking her smirk. The vipers were already circling.
The next morning, the storm broke.
I stood in the center of Henrietta's private sitting room, the scent of old books and dried lavender suffocating me. Eleanor paced the Persian rug, dabbing her dry eyes with a lace handkerchief.
"She is compromising the family!" Eleanor cried out, pointing an accusing finger at me. "Maria saw her returning from his penthouse looking... ruined. She is parading around with her own uncle, making a mockery of my son!"
Henrietta sat in her high-backed armchair, her face carved from stone. She slammed her silver rosary onto the antique table, the sharp clatter silencing Eleanor instantly.
"Control your son, Eleanor!" Henrietta snapped, her sharp eyes blazing with the authority of a true matriarch. "Grayson brought this chaos upon us! He provoked these whispers when he chose that Irish whore over his duty. He is challenging my authority, and you dare blame this girl?"
Eleanor paled, her mouth snapping shut.
From the corner of the room, Bridget Falcone stepped forward, her hands clasped in a picture of perfect, false concern.
"Mamma, please," Bridget said softly, playing the peacemaker while pouring gasoline on the fire. "Perhaps we are all overreacting to servant gossip. But to protect the Falcone honor from these vile whispers, there is only one solution. We must show the Five Families that our pact is unbreakable."
Henrietta narrowed her eyes. "Speak plainly, Bridget."
"Move the wedding forward," Bridget suggested, a sly smile touching her lips. "Do not wait for his graduation. Marry them next month."
The room plunged into a dead silence. My blood ran entirely cold.
Henrietta looked at me, then at Eleanor, her expression hardening into absolute resolve. "Bridget is right. The rumors end now. Grayson and Isabella will marry next month."
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7.7
Bella arrived New York City with ambitions, goals and desperate hunger to escape poverty. Raised by her single poor mother along side beloved sister Emily, Bella believed the only way to succeed and save her family from the ruthless hands of poverty was education.
After countless denial and rejection letters, she finally gained admission into one of the most prestigious universities in the country. What she doesn't realize is that stepping foot into that campus would pull her into a dangerous world of obsession, wealth, and power She never knew existed.
Benson Vale is everything Bella despised, Arrogant, untouchable and born into privilege.
As the heir to a billionaire empire, Benson is being forced to get married in order to acquire his inheritance something he dreaded with passion, but Bella crashed into his life and his tightly controlled world starts to unravel.
Lurking in the background is Angella Browns, Benson's childhood friend and the campus self proclaimed queen bee. Obsessed and possessive Angella would do whatever it takes to keep Benson all to herself even if it meant destroying Bella's life to pieces.
When tragedy strikes and secrets begins to unfold, Bella and Bensons relationship are bounded together by a dangerous DEAL - one that could either save or destroy them both.
As danger draws closer Bella must not only fight for justice but also uncover the truth behind her sisters death and choose Whether love was meant to survive in a world filled with Wealth, Power, and betrayal.
It was never meant to be love until fate made them collide.
7.2
Blurb:
They said loving him would ruin her, and they were right.
Adrianna never meant to fall for Xavier Palmer, the cold, untouchable billionaire whose name alone could silence a room. He was dangerous, controlling, and completely out of her world.
But the moment he claimed her as his, there was no escape.
What started as a forced bond quickly turned into something far more dangerous. Obsession and possession, a love so intense it blurred the line between protection and destruction.
Then everything shattered.
A brutal accident leaves Adrianna fighting for her life... and Xavier drowning in guilt, rage, and a darkness no one has ever seen before. While she lies unconscious, he hunts for the truth behind the attack, unaware that betrayal is closer than he thinks.
When Adrianna finally wakes up, nothing is the same.
Secrets have been buried, a child has been lost, and enemies are closing in.
But Xavier has made one thing clear.
He will destroy anyone who dares touch what belongs to him, even if it means becoming the monster she fears.
Even if it means losing her forever.
8.3
Half a month into our cold war, I, Claire Parker, found an abortion procedure slip tucked inside Daniel Carter's suit pocket.
The patient's name belonged to the fragile little childhood sweetheart he had always protected so fiercely-Sophie Bennett.
I folded the paper calmly and slipped it back where I had found it.
Daniel noticed the movement immediately. His eyes flicked toward me through the rearview mirror, resignation coloring his voice.
"What are you overthinking now? Sophie was just keeping a friend company at the hospital. She accidentally left it there."
I turned toward the window and said nothing.
This was Sophie declaring war on me, yet the man who could crush competitors without mercy in the business world believed her completely.
The silence inside the car grew suffocating until Daniel finally stopped outside an upscale jewelry boutique.
He reached over and ruffled my hair with easy familiarity, his tone indulgent and affectionate.
"Come on. Pick out a ring. Your birthday's next month anyway, so we might as well register our marriage too."
I bit down hard on my lip as tears fell soundlessly onto the back of my hand.
What he still didn't know was that I wouldn't live long enough to see next month.
9.5
Carin survived a horrific escape pod crash only to wake up in the mud of an uncharted, barbaric alien planet.
Before she could even process the pain of her fractured ribs, she was captured by towering, wolf-headed warriors who stripped her of her protective gear and threw her into a filthy slave pen.
Because she lacked animal ears and a tail, the clan's arrogant elites mocked her as a repulsive deformity, beating her with spears and forcing her to shovel toxic dung in the deadly Blade Beast pens.
The other female laborers violently bullied her and stole her only scraps of food, leaving her starving and defenseless in a brutal society where the strong preyed on the weak.
"If you're unclaimed at the mating ceremony, they force you into the breeding program, and you'll be nothing but a vessel until you die."
She was terrified, exhausted, and completely unequipped to survive this nightmare, but after a miraculous farming system suddenly awakened in her mind, she knew she desperately needed a powerful shield to protect her secret from the greedy tribe.
During the chaotic mating ceremony, amidst the cruel laughter of the entire clan, she stepped directly in front of Brannon—a terrifying, sterile, mutant outcast despised by everyone—and boldly claimed the deadly warrior as her mate.
7.6
AKARI TANAKA didn't know she was a werewolf until she inherited a murder.
Summoned to a remote Carpathian town, she learns she's the last heir of an ancient alpha line-and her great-uncle's suspicious death has thrown the local packs into a war for succession. As her own latent power violently awakens, Akari is caught between a ruthless rival alpha who wants to control her and a fanatical uncle whose faked death masks a plan to sacrifice her in a ritual that will rewrite reality.
To prevent a genocide of her own kind, Akari must forge an alliance with her enemy, master the wolf within, and confront the monstrous truth of her bloodline.
The price of leadership is sacrifice. The cost of failure is annihilation. But in Lupinara, the greatest predator isn't the wolf... it's the past.
7.2
I stared at the ceiling tiles of the sterile clinic, counting water stains to keep from screaming. The IVF transfer was complete, but the nurse didn’t call me a mother—she called the life inside me an "asset" for Caldwell Holdings.
When I walked into my husband Alexander’s office to demand a divorce, he didn't even look up from his desk. He just laughed, shredded my legal papers, and told me I was nothing more than a high-end broodmare for his inheritance.
The nightmare only deepened from there. To keep me in line, Alexander fabricated evidence of an affair to destroy my reputation. When I tried to run, he revealed he controlled the facility where my sister was on life support, threatening to pull the plug if I didn't submit.
"One phone call, and her ventilator stops," he whispered.
Even my own parents turned against me, demanding I apologize to Alexander’s mistress just to secure their next business merger. I was a prisoner in my own life, trapped between a husband who wanted to own me and a family that had already sold me. I couldn't understand why everyone was so obsessed with this pregnancy until I saw the fear in Alexander's eyes when his uncle, the powerful Harrison Sterling, started showing up at my door.
I finally hacked into the clinic’s high-security database and found the truth. There had been a catastrophic lab breach the day of my procedure. The donor wasn't some anonymous third party.
I wasn't carrying my husband's child. I was carrying his uncle's heir.
As Alexander sent a hitman to stage a fatal "accident" on the Manhattan Bridge, I realized the war had just begun. This time, I wasn't just fighting for my life—I was holding the nuclear leverage that would burn the Caldwell empire to the ground.