روايات وقصص ضمن The Surrogate Bride Of My Ex S Uncle

I left his office. “What did Uncle say?” Cara asked the moment I stepped out. Before I could answer, her eyes fell on the brochures in my hands. She snatched them from me, scowling. “You’re marrying Uncle?!” “Sshh.” I hushed her quickly in case anyone overheard—though I was sure we were the only ones on this floor. At least, I thought we were. “M-Married? You and Uncle Clifford?” Both Cara and I turned at the shaky voice. My breath caught. Jackson was standing a short distance away, frozen like a statue, his face etched with shock.

It's not been three years since their marriage, since I left home for a fresh start because I couldn't bear to see my sister with the man I have loved all my life. Mum and Dad summoned me back urgently. Apparently, Jenna has fertility issues, and she didn't want to use a surrogate; she wanted her blood sister, rather, to have sex with her husband and bear a child in her stead. Sure, the idea of that made my heart race, but at the same time, it wasn't right, and something seemed off. "Betty, I know it's difficult but I really need this." Jenna rubbed my hair from behind and I froze.

“Anna. The one I dated before. I messed up but—” “Joshua,” his mother cut in sharply, her tone deadly calm, “that woman is engaged to your uncle. The Sinclair heir. The man keeping this family afloat!” Josh blinked like he had been slapped. “What?” he breathed. “She is Alaric Sinclair’s fiancée. Do you know what that means for us?” “She’s... she's married into our family?” Josh croaked, face going pale. “Engaged. And she’s the reason your uncle hasn’t pulled our funding yet,” his dad growled. “If you’ve just embarrassed her in front of the press—”

Jason managed to pick up his jaw that had fallen to the floor after a few seconds. “Uncle, y-you can’t be serious!” He blurted in bewilderment. “Jasmine was my fiancé up until yesterday. How can you be getting married to her?!” “Surely this is some sort of prank right?” Charlotte added, her voice dripping with contempt towards Jasmine. “You can’t possibly want someone as cheap as her.” Asher’s lips twitched as he enjoyed their reactions. He was so close to laughing, but he kept his expression controlled.

She stepped in with a burst of manufactured brightness. "Mr. Lancaster, I actually wanted to ask if any of your subsidiaries are looking for a health ambassador," she said quickly. "I think our values could really align." Rowan didn’t even blink in her direction. Instead, he plucked a champagne flute from a passing tray, raised it—and turned to me. "To the original bride," he said smoothly, "who was brave enough to show up to her ex’s wedding." The air went still. Victoria’s smile froze. Her hand tensed on Tristan’s arm.

They had the absolute audacity to expect me to step in as a substitute bride to marry the second son of the Blackwood family, a man rumored to be ancient, ruthless, and Lucas's own uncle. Uncle Donte finally slammed his hand down on the armrest, his voice booming across the room. "Evelli! You ungrateful, selfish brat. Is this really how far your petty, spiteful behavior goes?" I stared at him like he had lost his mind. He was calling me spiteful because I refused to be a human sacrifice for my stepsister's catastrophic mistakes? These people were fundamentally sick in the head. Suddenly, a glaring omission hit me. Where was the man whose name was on the house deed?

Long dresses, long hair, and sky-high heels, never missing a single detail. All I ever got in return was a comment from him about being a pathetic imitation. None of that mattered anymore. I was married. I just had a baby. My husband was Rowan’s uncle, who lived overseas. The plain robe wrapping me from head to toe was custom-made by royal craftsmen, commissioned by my husband because he was afraid I would catch a chill. It seemed like these people had not only failed to recognize its value, but they also had no idea the ‘aunt’ they were here to welcome today was me.

Respectable. Powerful. But Amelia wasn’t looking at his face. She was looking at his hand. The gold lion ring. The same ring from the video. Beneath the photograph was his name. Charles Blackwood. Ethan’s uncle. And the man who had attended their wedding with a warm smile and a congratulatory speech. Amelia slowly looked at Ethan. Neither of them wanted to say the words aloud. But they both knew. The enemy hadn’t been chasing them from the shadows. He had been sitting at their family table all along.

The audio started with static, and then my own voice cut through the speaker, clear and sharp. "We signed an agreement when you took over the guardianship. I am your surrogate bride to satisfy your family’s inheritance requirements... If last night is what you required to fulfill my role as your surrogate bride, then we can consider it part of the contract." Then, there was a brief pause, followed by the sound of Damien's voice, raw and shouting. "I do not care about the contract! ... You think I want to be your business partner? ... No more contracts. No more business partners."

Uncle Faartz squeezed my right forearm and discreetly mouthed 'Shotgun License' to me before walking to seat in the second row on the left side of the altar beside his wife -Aunt Monica- I cracked a smile at her and she grinned, waving her hand. My gaze landed on the spot beside my mum -where the father of the bride is supposed to sit- the spot was strategically decorated with white roses in respect of my late dad and I remembered telling my mum to give Uncle Faartz a white rose to pin to his tuxedo jacket. I felt my eyes sting. Even though it was a temporary wedding, I knew my dad would have been so proud.