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Betrayed? I Married My Ex's Powerful Uncle

Betrayed? I Married My Ex's Powerful Uncle

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Chapter 1 

Word Count: 1446    |    Released on: Today at 09:47

hen she heard her fiancé's voice behind the locked doo

neral is still going on downst

over the cushions, one hand tangled in Damian Aldridge's hair. Her blouse hun

mpletely unconcerned. One hand rested posse

r lips. "The only thing worth celebrating today is that the ol

ing on her finger-a ring that surprisingly lo

. Between me and my sister

u're the one I can'

he Aldridge estate, but the unmistakable sounds co

and business worlds had gathered to mourn Colonel Callan Aldridge, America's deco

ter on the very day of his funeral, neither of them able to keep their h

iley thought sh

em together, hiding behind a locked door and rollin

loser to the cr

an survived?" Kelsey asked, her finge

went down in the Atlantic. They didn't even find a single bone. Once the

ss Kelsey, a smug smile s

nt. Mansions, yachts, private jets... The whole world will be

voice turning

exico and actually thinks she's going to marry into the Aldr

lock of ice had dropped straight into it, cold and heavy, but her hands stayed steady. She didn't push t

briskly back toward

at on the main dais for Colonel Callan Aldridge. Two hundred of Boston's wealthies

tered wildly against the marble floor as she stu

oed off the vaulted ceiling. "There's a sound!

y, her stern face tightening. "Miss Mercer, control you

Richard Mercer, head of the Mercer family and her biologica

ce! He's yelling that he's cold insid

arm back slightly, his voice a low snap. "Sto

Whispers rippled through the crowd as gue

voice so the press at the back could hear every word. "If you don

on, dozens of guests holding champagne flutes surge

out clearly, followed by a woman's high-pitched scream. Sever

but Riley moved faster. She snatched a heavy brass candlestick from the ha

e heavy wooden do

alf-unbuttoned dress shirt while Kelsey lay beneath him in a ripped blous

women clapped hands over their mouths while reporter

ared at the crowd, as if his brain had re

to cover his waist, his face purple with r

eath her messy blonde hair, the light brown beauty mark under her right eye sto

them with a cold curl of her lip. "So Uncle Callan's ghost w

e strode into the room and swung his open p

do you take the M

. He glared at Riley, his teeth grinding. "You c

licking cameras. "I came to catch a ghost. Not my fau

narled, clutching his shirt. "You h

the cameras. "And I think Bos

of the scandal were already flo

with her own half-sister-at his uncle's funeral, in front of two hun

ned out the shouting. A violent downdraft shatt

ully armed United States Air Force Pararescue jumpers. Rainwat

hed into the hall, his combat boots echo

sharp gaze sweeping the room. "Who is the p

t from the crowd, wiping sweat from his forehead. "I

agon wax. "Cancel the funeral. Forty minutes ago, rescue teams pulle

lent, save for the wi

opped struggling with his shirt. Even Rich

breath and spoke

llan Aldrid

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Betrayed? I Married My Ex's Powerful Uncle
Betrayed? I Married My Ex's Powerful Uncle
“Today was supposed to be my fiancé's uncle's funeral, a solemn day for the billionaire Aldridge family. But right outside the memorial hall, I caught my fiancé and my sweet, innocent half-sister rolling around half-naked on a velvet sofa. I smashed the door open and exposed their affair to two hundred of Boston's wealthiest elites. Instead of apologizing, my fiancé cursed me for making him a laughingstock. My biological father, who had always favored his mistress's daughter, disowned me on the spot. They mocked my callused hands, calling me a cheap mechanic who never deserved to marry into high society. I was ready to walk away from this disgusting family forever, but then the military crashed the funeral with shocking news. The "dead" uncle, Callan Aldridge, was actually alive. He was brought back completely paralyzed with locked-in syndrome, given less than three months to live. His greedy brother and my cheating ex immediately began plotting to pull his life support and carve up his twenty-billion-dollar aerospace empire. It was a blatant, sickening murder hiding behind medical care. I thought it wasn't my problem, until Callan's lawyer handed me a marriage contract. Looking at the paralyzed war hero on the bed, I saw his eyes tracking me-cold, sharp, and entirely conscious. "Interesting. So the dead man picks his own knife." I picked up the pen and signed my name, ready to become their worst nightmare.”