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Married To My Ex-Fiancé's Silent Uncle
Twenty minutes before the "Wedding of the Century" at The Plaza, I stood outside the Presidential Suite in a fifty-thousand-dollar Vera Wang gown. I was the girl from a West Virginia trailer park about to marry Hugh Maxwell, the golden heir to a billion-dollar defense empire. I pushed the door open only to find Hugh pinned against the bed with my own stepsister, Floy. She was wearing my bridal diamond necklace, and the sounds of their laughter scraped against my eardrums like sandpaper. I didn't scream; I listened as Hugh grunted that once the wedding was over and the trust fund unlocked, he'd dump "that hillbilly trash" on a bus back to the mountains. They weren't just cheating; they were planning to steal my family's land deeds and leave me with nothing. When I set off the sprinklers and exposed their naked bodies to the paparazzi, the Maxwell family didn't apologize. They called me a "greedy peasant" and threatened to ruin my life unless I signed a new deal to save their crashing stock. I realized then that I was never a bride to them. I was a transaction, a rounding error in a ledger to be used and discarded. They thought my poverty made me weak and my silence made me a victim. "If we don't have a marriage certificate by midnight, the bank freezes thirty percent of our liquidity," their lawyer warned. So, I gave them exactly what they wanted. I used a loophole in their hundred-year-old family covenant and married the only other direct heir available. I didn't marry Hugh. I walked into the ICU and married his uncle, Fleet Maxwell-the legendary war hero who had been in a vegetative state for months. Now, I am the matriarch of the Maxwell dynasty. I've suspended Hugh's executive powers, exiled my mother-in-law to the Swiss Alps, and taken control of the family vault. They think I'm just a gold-digger waiting for a "corpse" to die so I can collect a fifty-million-dollar widow's payout. But last night, as I lay beside my comatose husband, the man they called a vegetable gripped my hand back.
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Betraying Giovanni
An FBI agent, Chanel, is sent out into the field to take out a notorious Italian mafia boss, Vincent Giovanni, but she soon finds herself falling in love with her enemy. After an attempt on his life, Vincent Giovanni finds himself indebted to a beautiful woman. With the Russians declaring war on t
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Reborn To Ruin My Betraying Fiancé
Caryn lay trapped beneath concrete slabs in the apocalyptic ruins, a steel rebar pinning her down, the pressure unbearable. Her fiancé, Ford, knelt in the narrow gap above her, completely unharmed. "Sorry, babe. It's a new world. Survival of the fittest." He sneered, twisting the cap off their la
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Betraying The Queen: A Mafia Boss's Downfall
For seven years, I laundered blood money and managed a fortified estate for my Mafia Boss husband, Silas. I thought we were building a bulletproof life for our son, until a stranger at a luxury mall handed me a lavish baptism invitation. It was for my husband's newborn daughter, with a civilian wo
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The Runaway Asset: Betraying My Billionaire Father
I stood in a couture engagement dress that cost more than most people earn in a decade, playing the part of the perfect billionaire heiress. My mother adjusted my hair with cold fingers, reminding me not to slouch before the photographers arrived for the merger of the century. But a few feet away o
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The House by the Medlar-Tree
ANY one who loves simplicity or respects sincerity, any one who feels the tie binding us all together in the helplessness of our common human life, and running from the lowliest as well as the highest to the Mystery immeasur-ably above the whole earth, must find a rare and tender pleasure in this si
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My Friends the Savages
My Friends the Savages by Giovanni Battista Cerruti
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