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 8
Anissa's heels sank into the thick Persian runner as she climbed the stairs. She headed straight for her old bedroom at the end of the hall.
Heavy footsteps pounded behind her. Lorraine chased her up the stairs, her face twisted in rage. Lorraine lunged forward and grabbed Anissa's wrist, her manicured nails digging painfully into the skin.
"Stop this act right now!" Lorraine hissed, her chest heaving. "A man like Harding Snow doesn't marry girls like you! This is just a PR stunt to punish Connor!"
Lorraine sneered, her breath hot on Anissa's face. "Once the news cycle dies, he will throw you out like the trash you are."
Anissa yanked her arm back with brutal force. She looked at the red crescent marks Lorraine's nails had left on her skin. The last microscopic shred of hope for a mother's love died in her chest.
She looked up, her eyes dead. "Is that what I am to you? Trash?"
Lorraine flinched, but her pride forced her to double down. "If you weren't so miserable and boring, Connor wouldn't have looked at another woman! You have half of Ashlee's warmth!"
Anissa didn't yell. She started clapping. The slow, sarcastic claps echoed in the hallway. "Your gaslighting really is a masterpiece, Mother. Twenty years, and you haven't lost your touch."
Anissa took a step forward, forcing Lorraine to back up against the wall. "When I was ten, I had a 104-degree fever. You left me with the maid so you could take Ashlee to Paris because she scraped her knee."
"When I was sixteen, I got early admission to the Ivy League. No one came to dinner. Because Ashlee failed her exams and was crying in her room."
Anissa's voice was low, but every word was a knife slicing through the family's perfect facade.
Lorraine's face went from red to a sickly pale green. Panic flashed in her eyes because she couldn't deny it. She resorted to her only weapon: authority.
"You hold grudges over petty nonsense!" Lorraine screamed. "You are a cold-blooded monster!"
Anissa turned away in disgust. She grabbed the brass handle of her bedroom door and pushed it open.
She stopped. The room was completely unrecognizable.
Her antique oak desk was gone. In its place was a massive, pink velvet clothing rack stuffed with Ashlee's overflow designer dresses. Her bookshelves had been ripped out to make room for shoe displays.
Anissa's blood turned to ice. She slowly turned her head to look at Lorraine. "What is this?"
Lorraine avoided her gaze, crossing her arms defensively. "Ashlee has too many clothes. You were moving out to marry Connor anyway. The room was empty."
Anissa let out a dark chuckle. They had erased her existence from this house before she even put on her wedding dress.
"Where is the Cartier sapphire necklace Grandmother left me?" Anissa demanded, her voice dropping an octave. "And where are my trust fund documents?"
Lorraine stammered, taking a step back. "The necklace... Ashlee is borrowing it for the Debutante Ball next week."
"And the trust?" Lorraine lifted her chin, trying to look brave. "I transferred it to Ashlee this morning. As compensation for the trauma you caused her yesterday."
Pure, unadulterated rage exploded in Anissa's chest. She pulled her phone from her pocket and hit speed dial.
Harding's assistant answered on the first ring. Anissa put it on speaker.
"Please send Mr. Snow's corporate legal team to the Long Island estate right now," Anissa commanded, her eyes locked dead on her mother. "I have reason to believe someone has tampered with my personal trust fund. Have the lawyers investigate every transaction. I want them to use whatever aggressive legal measures are necessary to recover what is mine and handle the perpetrators according to the law."
"Understood, Madam," the assistant's crisp voice replied. "A helicopter will land on the estate lawn in ten minutes."
Lorraine's knees buckled. She slammed her hand against the doorframe to keep from collapsing. The words federal prison echoed in her brain.
She stared at her daughter in absolute terror. She finally realized Anissa wasn't throwing a tantrum. Anissa was going to burn them to the ground.
Anissa didn't give her mother another glance. She turned and marched down the hall toward Ashlee's massive master suite.
She lifted her leg and kicked Ashlee's door open with a deafening crash.
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9.5
The disgraced daughter of the Patton family is back from the countryside.At the news, everyone spurned her with contempt!
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."