Claimed By The Uncle: My Sweet Revenge

Chapter 2 No.2

Word Count: 756 | Released on: 30/01/2026

a physical blow. She woke with a start, her body aching in places she hadn't k

ater came from the bat

gan to vibrate violently against the mahogany. The nam

ed for the phone, her hand shaking.

jagged tear in the morning silence. "Carmella sa

athroom door. She could see the vague, dark

she said. Her

en, a softer, sweeter voice

he's fresh from the farm. She doesn'

s turned white. She could hear the rustle of sheets on

o the foreground. "We have the summit today. If you're late and embarrass me, I

ne wen

e rise in her throat. It wasn't the hangover. It

ar and expensive soap. King walked out with a towel wrapped low around

hone in her hand. "

of indifference. She sat up, clutching the sheet

and pressed a button. A panel slid open, revealing rows of besp

rom a hanger and tossed it onto

istant, Silas, will be here in t

hanging past her fingertips. It smelled like him-cold ai

cooking the books," he said casually, as if discussing the weather. "

ers halting on the butt

Because I'm his boss. And I'm waiting for him

he USB drive. He needed a spy. He needed someone inside the Go

m. Her hands trembled slightly as she reac

want me to do

l. Make them underestimate you. And then..." He leaned in, his li

. It was a sharp,

a breath. "Tha

or. He tapped the screen. His expression didn't cha

atient than I thought," King said

an cold. She rush

utside the penthouse door, was Preston.

door and locked it. The click of

is voice terrifyingly calm.

Chapter End

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Claimed By The Uncle: My Sweet Revenge

Mo Xiaoxiao Modern

“I was the "crazy girl" my family sent to a survivalist commune in Utah to rot. Four years later, I returned to Manhattan with a titanium USB drive and a heart full of ice, ready to blackmail the one man who could burn my family to the ground. But I underestimated how much they hated me. My fiancé, Preston, was already laundering money through my inheritance and sleeping with my replacement. He didn't even flinch when I showed him the evidence of his crimes. Instead, he grabbed me by the shoulders, smashed my phone, and shoved me out of his moving Lincoln into a midnight storm. I hit the wet pavement hard, my knees scraping against the asphalt as I watched him drive away, laughing about how I was a "dirt-poor exile" that nobody wanted. Within minutes, my credit cards were flagged as stolen and my father's lawyers were drafting a statement calling me mentally unstable. I was left shivering in a puddle of oily sludge, wearing a ruined Chanel suit, with no money, no home, and no one to hear me scream. I couldn't understand how they could be so cruel. I was their flesh and blood, yet they treated me like a broken toy to be discarded in the trash. I was a "distressed asset" in a city that only valued gold. That's when a black armored SUV pulled to the curb. King Wagner-the ruthless shark of Wall Street and Preston's own uncle-looked at my muddy face with cold, calculating eyes. He didn't offer me pity; he offered me a leash. "You belong to me now," he whispered, pulling me into the dry warmth of his car. By the next morning, he had announced our engagement to the world, turning me into the very weapon that would slit my family's throat.”