Marrying My Ex's Powerful Billionaire Uncle
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."
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Chapter 7
The black Maybach pulled up to the massive wrought-iron gates of the Roy family's Long Island estate.
Anissa pushed the heavy car door open. She told Harding's bodyguards to stay in the vehicle. She walked up the marble steps alone, her heels clicking sharply against the stone.
The butler opened the front door. He couldn't meet her eyes. His usual arrogance was gone, replaced by nervous sweating. He had clearly seen the morning news.
Anissa walked into the grand living room. The entire Roy family was sitting on the sofas, arranged like a tribunal waiting to sentence a criminal.
Her father, Harold, sat in the center, puffing angrily on a cigar. Lorraine sat beside him, glaring daggers. Her three brothers flanked them.
Ashlee was curled up on the loveseat, wearing a pathetic white sweater. Her eyes were red and puffy. She leaned her head against Anissa's second brother, Brendan, looking like a shattered victim.
The moment Anissa stepped onto the rug, her eldest brother, Cameron, slammed his hand on the coffee table and stood up.
"You actually have the nerve to show your face!" Cameron roared. "To get back at Connor, you seduced a man old enough to be your uncle! You dragged our name through the mud!"
Anissa let out a dry, mocking laugh. "When Connor ran out of the church to go hold a D-list actress's hand, where was your concern for the family name, Cameron?"
Brendan immediately wrapped his arm around Ashlee. "Shut up! You didn't just ruin the wedding. You assaulted Ashlee in the church!"
Brendan grabbed Ashlee's hand and held it up. The red mark was completely gone, but he acted like her arm was broken. "You are a vicious, psychotic bitch!"
Ashlee squeezed her eyes shut, forcing two tears to fall. She grabbed Brendan's sleeve. "Don't yell at her, Brendan. She was just heartbroken. She needed someone to take it out on."
Her third brother, Dylan, sneered. "Ashlee stood in heels for hours apologizing to your guests, and you were busy whoring yourself out in the VIP room."
Hearing her three biological brothers viciously defend the adopted sister made Anissa's stomach churn. In her past life, this would have broken her heart. Now, it just made her want to vomit.
She walked over to a single armchair. She didn't wait for permission. She sat down, crossed her legs, and looked at them with pure boredom.
Harold took the cigar out of his mouth. He used his ultimate patriarch voice. "You will divorce Harding Snow today. You will release a statement saying it was a prank."
"I spoke to Connor," Harold continued, looking incredibly smug. "If you get on your knees and apologize, he is willing to take you back. We can redo the wedding next month."
Anissa stared at him. A laugh bubbled up in her throat. She threw her head back and laughed out loud.
The sound was sharp and grating in the tense room. Lorraine's face turned purple. "You ungrateful, classless brat!"
Lorraine pointed her finger at Anissa's nose. "If you don't do exactly as we say, we will disown you in the papers! I will cut off every single credit card in your name!"
In her past life, that threat was a death sentence. It was the leash they used to choke her into submission.
Anissa reached into her designer bag. She pulled out the heavy metal Centurion Card.
She flicked her wrist. The Black Card hit the glass coffee table with a loud, sharp clack.
The exclusive black metal gleamed under the chandelier. Harold's eyes bulged. The three brothers stared at the card, recognizing the ultimate symbol of limitless wealth.
Anissa looked dead into Lorraine's eyes. "I wouldn't wipe my shoes with your dirty money."
"I didn't come here to listen to your delusions," Anissa said, her voice echoing in the silent room. "I came to inform you that I am legally married to Harding Snow."
The room went dead silent. Harold's jaw dropped. His lit cigar slipped from his fingers and burned a hole straight through the Persian rug.
Cameron's eyes widened in horror. "That's impossible. Harding Snow doesn't marry cast-offs."
Ashlee's face drained of all color. The fragile victim mask cracked, revealing a flash of pure, venomous jealousy.
Anissa stood up. She looked down at the people who shared her blood. "I am no longer your puppet."
She ignored their sputtering gasps. She turned her back on them and walked toward the grand staircase, heading to the second floor to take back her life.
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A good-for-nothing young lady, a crude village wench, a vicious devil...
Until one day--The world-famous life-saving medical sovereign is her.The enigmatic top forensic specialist is her.The grandmaster hacker hunted across the globe is also her.
One hidden identity of the young miss came to light after another.Shocked and dumbfounded, the crowd fell to their knees to beg for forgiveness.
In an instant, Evie was cornered by the mysterious powerhouse.Hartwell's voice lured and mesmerized:"Darling, you have countless secret identities. Would you mind taking on one more, being my wife!"
9.2
Averie spent hours preparing a perfect third-anniversary dinner for her billionaire husband, Jarett Sharp.
Instead of celebrating, she received an anonymous photo of him intimately holding another woman.
When Jarett finally arrived, he didn't even look guilty.
"Candida. It's okay. Don't be scared. I'm on my way."
He simply took a call from his mistress, shoved Averie aside, and walked right back out the door.
That same night, Averie's father suffered a massive heart attack.
The hospital demanded a half-million-dollar deposit before they would operate.
But when Averie frantically tried to use the emergency medical trust card Jarett had given her, it was declined.
Jarett had deliberately frozen her access to the funds just hours earlier.
While she begged his assistant on the phone, Jarett refused to be disturbed, busy wrapping his expensive coat around his mistress in the hospital garden.
Averie collapsed in the hallway, realizing the man she loved was deliberately letting her father die.
In the end, a childhood friend stepped in to pay the bill and save her father's life, while her billionaire husband later pinned her to their bed, throwing a check at her and reminding her he had bought her for three million dollars.
Averie didn't shed a single tear.
She slowly ripped his check into pieces, left her massive diamond ring on the dresser, and walked out into the cold New York night with nothing but her old suitcase.
She pulled out her phone and dialed her old ballet professor.
She wasn't just going to leave Jarett Sharp. She was going to destroy him.
8.5
Synopsis
It still feels so unreal being dumped by my boyfriend at the courtyard on the day of our wedding.
David didn't show up and when I called him to know the reason why.
He told me right to my face that he had found love with another woman who happened to be my best friend.
My heart was shattered into a million tiny pieces.
I was wallowing in self-pity when I overheard Lucas talking on the phone about needing a replacement for the woman who has collected a part-payment to be his wife.
I agreed to be his wife without thinking twice wanting to get back at my Ex.
What would happen when two strangers' hearts intertwined?
And what started as an arrangement became a bedrock for something real?
Read to find out.
9.3
He was supposed to be my brother. The cold CEO everyone feared. The man who controlled the entire country's business world.
But one night, he looked at me and calmly destroyed everything I thought I knew.
"We're getting married."
I laughed, but he didn't.
Now every door in my life is closing, every choice is disappearing, and the one man I'm not supposed to love refuses to let me go.
Because to Lucien Hale, this was never forbidden. It was inevitable.
And the most terrifying part? The closer I get to him, the harder it becomes to run.
7.1
I worked eighty-hour weeks on Wall Street just to keep my sick brother alive, enduring endless humiliation from the wealthy family that adopted us.
But when I went to surprise my boyfriend of three years, I found him kissing my spoiled adoptive sister, Tatum.
They were celebrating their engagement to merge their powerful families.
To keep me quiet, my adoptive mother, Eleanor, threatened to freeze my brother's medical trust fund unless I attended the party to play the supportive sister.
Instead, I discovered Eleanor had been embezzling from my brother's life-saving fund to cover her own bad investments.
The nightmare worsened when a drunken Ryder cornered me in my apartment stairwell.
"Once I marry Tatum, Eleanor is giving me control of Liam's trust fund to buy out my father's board members."
He planned to drain my brother's medical money, dump Tatum, and keep me as his mistress.
For a decade, I suffered their abuse hoping for a shred of decency, only to realize they were plotting to leave my brother to die on the streets for corporate greed.
Calling the police wouldn't stop these billionaires. I needed absolute power.
Remembering the dark, predatory gaze of Jaren Jarvis—the ruthless billionaire who had watched me fight back at the party—I canceled my call to 911.
If they wanted to destroy my only family, I was going to use the devil himself to crush theirs.
8.1
Chantal Lewis's family legacy was twenty-four hours away from a fifty-million-dollar foreclosure.
Desperate to save her parents, she sold her soul, offering herself as a paper wife to Dell Valdez, a ruthless Wall Street billionaire needing a quick PR fix.
But Dell didn't just buy her; he trapped her in a living nightmare.
He forced her into a brutal three-year repayment plan she could never afford, treated her like a disposable prop, and deliberately leaked a scandalous paparazzi photo to destroy her hard-earned professional credibility.
Worst of all, the first time his calloused hand touched hers, a violent, terrifying flashback assaulted her brain.
The scorching heat of his palms and the distinct, dark scent of his cedarwood cologne perfectly matched the repressed memory of a pitch-black room where she was pinned to a mattress against her will.
Chantal didn't understand why her cold-blooded fake husband felt exactly like the monster from her unspoken trauma.
She understood even less why, after months of ignoring her, he was suddenly acting violently jealous and possessive when she merely smiled at another man!
Why did his scent match her attacker, and what was he truly planning?
Furious, she called him to threaten a divorce, only for his voice to drop into a lethal whisper.
"Try it. See what happens."
Before she could process his deadly threat, her office phone rang.
"Ms. Lewis," her receptionist trembled. "Your brother is in the lobby. He owes money to some very bad people, and they are coming here right now."