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Claimed By The Uncle: My Sweet Revenge

Chapter 3 No.3

Word Count: 608    |    Released on: 30/01/2026

in, longer this time,

e sleek, minimalist apartment. There was nowher

orn remains of her thrift-store dress from the fl

he bathroom. "Get in. Don't make

sized dress shirt billowing around her thighs. She threw herself into the bathr

ard the heavy f

nd overly polite. "I'm so sorry to disturb you. I ran into Silas in t

. Preston was lying. He was checkin

able," King's voice

him sniffing the air like a bloodhound. "Is that pe

stopped

othly. "Chanel. Do you have a problem wit

stammered. "It's just... Adeline

m. Adeline's heart hammered agai

throom door from the o

ton asked, his v

'm about to take a shower and change. Wait here for five m

d, the bathroom door handle

locked the door behind

wide with panic. "Are you insane

ater on full blast. The roar of the spray filled th

backing her up again

he said, his voice low un

tes

you, how are you going to help me destroy

!" she whispered furiousl

ulled out a garment bag that Silas must have

it on. Then you're wal

e to walk out there? While

here for business," King said. A smi

g the edge of the vanity on either s

s. "From this moment on, you belong to me

asn't a punishment. It was a transfer of power. It w

ulling away. "You look like you've

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Claimed By The Uncle: My Sweet Revenge
Claimed By The Uncle: My Sweet Revenge
“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.”