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 2
Anissa stood in front of the carved wooden doors of the VIP suite. Her heart hammered against her ribs, but her hands were steady.
Two men in black suits stepped in front of the door, blocking her path.
"Mr. Harding Snow is in a closed-door meeting with Mr. Aurthur Snow," the guard said, his voice devoid of emotion. "No interruptions."
Anissa looked him dead in the eye. She recited a specific sub-clause number. It was a highly classified emergency loophole regarding the Snow family trust fund succession-a closely guarded secret she had overheard Connor drunkenly bragging about.
The guard's jaw tightened. He pressed two fingers to his earpiece and whispered into his hidden microphone.
Three seconds passed. A heavy mechanical click echoed from inside the wood. The door unlocked. The guards stepped aside.
Anissa walked into the dimly lit room. The air was thick with the sharp scent of black coffee and expensive cigar smoke.
Harding Snow sat in a single leather armchair. His long legs were crossed. He was casually flipping through a thick stack of merger documents.
Aurthur Snow sat opposite him. The old man's face was purple with rage. He already knew about his grandson's disgraceful exit.
Harding looked up. His deep, gray-blue eyes locked onto Anissa through his gold-rimmed glasses. His gaze was an abyss, giving absolutely nothing away.
Aurthur gripped his cane. "Are you here to cancel the ceremony, Anissa? I am deeply sorry for what Connor did."
Anissa straightened her spine. She looked at the two most powerful men on Wall Street and dropped the bomb.
"The wedding proceeds as planned," Anissa said clearly. "But the groom's name changes."
Aurthur gasped. His knuckles turned white around his cane. "Are you insane? Do you want to drag a random groomsman to the altar?"
Anissa shifted her gaze. She looked directly at the silent man in the armchair. "I am marrying Harding Snow."
The room fell into a dead, suffocating silence. Aurthur sucked in a sharp breath. Harding's fingers stopped turning the page.
Harding slowly closed the folder. He leaned forward. "Do you have any idea what you are saying right now?"
Anissa took a step closer. "The mutual benefit agreement we briefly discussed at the gala last year."
She looked at him with absolute, unwavering certainty. "You need a wife to pacify the board and handle the family's pressure regarding your succession. I need a fortress to survive the fallout of today. Your name is the only one strong enough to shield me, and I am the only woman in New York desperate enough to sign away my freedom without asking questions. It's a win-win."
A dark, imperceptible ripple crossed Harding's eyes. He stood up. His massive frame instantly swallowed the light in the room, radiating pure dominance.
He walked until he was inches from her face. He looked down, his voice a low rumble in his chest. "If you sign this contract, Anissa, there is no backing out. Ever."
She didn't flinch. She tilted her chin up. "I have nothing left to lose. I am not afraid of the dark."
Aurthur suddenly stood up, his cane trembling. "Do it, Harding! This saves the family face. And it completely cuts that ungrateful bastard Connor out of the trust fund succession!"
"If you agree, Harding," Aurthur breathed heavily, "I will have the lawyers alter the documents and the church screens immediately."
Harding stared into Anissa's unwavering eyes. The silence stretched for ten agonizing seconds. Finally, he gave a single, slow nod.
He turned to his executive assistant standing by the wall. "Initiate Plan B. You have five minutes to replace all physical and digital materials."
A sudden commotion erupted outside the door. Ashlee shoved past the guards, stumbling into the room.
She saw Anissa standing dangerously close to Harding. "What are you doing?" Ashlee shrieked. "Are you trying to seduce your elder? You are disgusting!"
Anissa didn't say a word. She closed the distance between them, raised her hand, and delivered a brutal backhand across Ashlee's face.
The sharp crack echoed off the walls. Ashlee crashed to the floor, clutching her stinging cheek, screaming in shock.
Harding didn't blink. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a silk handkerchief, and handed it to Anissa.
"Don't dirty your hands," Harding said softly.
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9.3
Jessie's biological parents brought her back from a Rust Belt wasteland just to force her into marrying a paralyzed heir to save their bankrupt empire.
Three years later, when the global doomsday apocalypse hit, her own family shoved her into a swarm of infected corpses.
As she was being torn apart by mutated hounds, she was stunned by what she saw.
Her fake sister, Harley, was clutching the antique silver necklace she had stolen from Jessie—an heirloom that secretly contained a magical spatial dimension.
When the infected swarmed them, her biological mother didn't even look back.
"Jessie is just white trash, she is perfectly suited to buy us time to run!"
Harley used Jessie's stolen necklace to live in absolute safety and luxury, while Jessie's windpipe was ripped out in the rotting wasteland.
Until she died, Jessie didn't understand. She was their true flesh and blood.
Why did her parents hate her so much? Why was she sacrificed so easily while the fake daughter got everything?
Opening her eyes again, the blinding glare of a crystal chandelier stabbed into her retinas.
She was back in the Manhattan penthouse on the exact day they sold her off.
This time, Jessie calmly signed the marriage contract, demanded a one hundred million dollar buyout, and walked out to prepare for the apocalypse.
8.7
Brought back from a humble life in Montana, Nora found out she was the true biological heiress of the ultra-wealthy Beaumont family.
But her biological parents didn't love her; they loved the fake daughter, Olivia, much more.
The moment she arrived, her father pushed an engagement termination agreement across his massive desk, forcing her to give up her wealthy fiancé so Olivia could have him.
Her mother looked at her with pure disdain.
"You should know your place. Don't reach for things that were never meant for you."
To break her spirit, they moved her into a cramped, dusty servant's room. They even ordered the butler to feed her cold kitchen scraps and gristle.
They wanted to humiliate her, to make her feel like a piece of trash rather than a daughter.
They expected her to cry, to beg, and to be absolutely crushed by the realization that her own flesh and blood saw her only as a liability to their reputation.
They thought the country girl would easily fold under their united front of cruelty.
But Nora felt no sting of betrayal, only the calculating clarity of a chess player.
She calmly signed the paper, pulled out the Beaumont family trust rules, and looked them dead in the eye.
"Since I am the legal heir, I demand what belongs to me. I'm taking the master bedroom."
9.1
What would a woman do if one day she is waiting for her husband to tell him the news of her pregnancy but he comes home with another woman who is pregnant with his child?
........
Ariadne had a perfect life until her mother died in a car accident and her father remarried, bringing a stepmother and stepsister into her life. Once adored by all, Ariadne became an eyesore to everyone, including her father. Her stepmother and stepsister took everything from her.
However, she lost it when their eyes fell on Xander, the sole heir of the richest family in the country and her childhood love. When rumors of Crystal, her step sister and Xander's dating spread, Ariadne used her everything to force Xander into marrying her.
Despite pouring her heart and soul into the marriage Ariadne failed to make Xander reciprocate her feelings. Their loveless marriage came to an end when Crystal returned in their lives.
With a broken heart, Ariadne left the city with a secret and rebuild her life.
Five years later, she returned as a successful interior designer to design her ex-husband's new mansion. But this time, what she saw in Xander's eyes for herself was not hatred. It was something else.
She came face to face with the same people who had wronged her in the past. They still held resentment towards her. But this time Ariadne vowed to strike back at her bullies.
Many secrets were revealed in the process that made Xander regret his past actions. He determined to win Ariadne back.
BUT Will Ariadne be able to forget their past and get back together with Xander or She will choose someone else?
9.0
To save her dying mother, Adaline walked into the Waldorf Astoria to deliver a shirt to her fiancé.
She didn't know her stepsister, June, had swapped her keycard. Adaline stumbled into a pitch-black suite and was brutally assaulted by a stranger in the dark.
The nightmare didn't end there. June paid off the only bone marrow donor for Adaline's mother to flee the city, and stole Adaline's fiancé. Bankrupt and desperate, Adaline was forced to sell herself into a loveless marriage with the ruthless billionaire Ferris Finch just to secure a medical team.
But when Ferris saw the dark, violent bruises covering her body, his eyes filled with absolute disgust.
"You make me sick. Pack up your cheap tricks."
He mocked her, calling her a filthy woman who couldn't even wash her lover's marks off before crawling into his house.
Adaline swallowed her pride and endured his cruel humiliation. When June publicly taunted her about the hotel assault, Adaline finally snapped, ending up handcuffed in a freezing police cell.
She thought she was completely out of moves, waiting to rot in prison while her new husband despised her.
But back at the estate, Ferris had just pulled the hotel's security footage.
Staring at the screen, the arrogant billionaire's face turned completely ashen.
He finally realized that the innocent woman he had destroyed in the dark that night, and the wife he was currently torturing, were the exact same person.
8.6
Aubree pushed Ezra down the grand staircase, crippling the only man who silently protected her.
She thought she was finally escaping his control to be with her true love, Foster Newton.
But she had no idea it was a vicious trap meticulously set by Newton and her sweet, innocent cousin, Brandi.
Once Ezra was driven out of New York in despair, Aubree's life became a living hell. Her father completely disowned her. Brandi smoothly took over her home and her millions in inheritance.
"You were just a stepping stone for us, Aubree."
That was the last thing Newton sneered before leaving her to die.
Lying on the freezing floor, her warm blood pooling in her palms, Aubree finally saw the horrifying truth. She had destroyed her own family and ruined the one man who genuinely cared for her, all for a pair of greedy parasites.
Endless regret and suffocating hatred consumed her fading consciousness. Why was she so blind? Why did she let them manipulate her into destroying her own life?
Then, her eyes snapped open.
A violent wave of dizziness hit her. She looked down at her pale, flawless hands. There were no deep cuts. There was no sticky blood.
She was back. She had miraculously returned to the exact night she pushed Ezra, just two hours before his private jet was scheduled to leave forever.
Hearing her father's furious roar outside her bedroom door, Aubree didn't cower.
She wiped the smeared makeup from her face, her eyes turning dead cold. This time, she was going to make Ezra stay, and she was going to send those leeches straight to hell.
9.1
Isabella thought she had the perfect life as the wealthy Conrad family heiress, complete with a loving childhood sweetheart.
Until she woke up drugged in a hotel bed, blinded by paparazzi flashes, as her fiancé pointed a shaking finger at her, screaming that she had drugged and seduced him.
"She threatened to ruin Kaylie if I didn't sleep with her!" he yelled to the cameras.
Kaylie, the newly discovered biological daughter, stood in the doorway weeping perfectly.
Within hours, Isabella's adoptive father publicly severed all ties, froze her assets, and kicked her out into a violent thunderstorm.
Fleeing the city, her car's brakes suddenly failed.
As Isabella lay dying in the crushed metal of her Porsche, Kaylie strolled up with a pristine umbrella and a genuine smile.
"The mechanic was quite expensive, but cutting the brake lines was worth every penny," Kaylie laughed.
Isabella coughed up blood, her heart turning to ice. Her twenty years of family, love, and loyalty had been nothing but a cruel joke, destroyed by a calculated frame-up.
She died suffocating on absolute betrayal and unadulterated hatred.
Then, she gasped for air.
She wasn't dead. She was sitting in the driver's seat of her car, staring at her flawless reflection in the rearview mirror.
It was exactly four years ago—the day the real heiress first arrived.
A chilling smirk curled the corner of Isabella's mouth. This time, she was going to rip their lives apart from the inside out.