The Devils Bride Megans Story

Modern

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.

Fantasy

Man, always lives in wrong ways and sins. No one in the world lives because he is perfect, or because he is sinless. Everything that moves on the earth has him at his fault. Sometimes, you are not aware, that you have committed a sin that you must pay for in the world of the abyss. The sound of deat

Billionaires

"Marry me, or face the consequences," he growled. Megan's nails dug into her palms, fury simmering beneath her fear. How dare he? How dare this arrogant billionaire claim a child he never wanted? "My family is bloodthirsty, Megan. They'll take the baby-with or without you." Her heart slammed agai

Mafia

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Romance

Alexander Grant, the 27-year-old CEO of Grant Enterprises, believed his life was perfect-an empire at his feet and a stunning fiancée by his side. But just 24 hours before their lavish wedding, his fiancée walked away, leaving him heartbroken and humiliated. With no other options, Alexander turned

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Adventure

Certain chapters of this story first appeared in The Youth’s Companion. The author wishes to acknowledge the courtesy of the editors in permitting her to republish them in the present volume. Messrs. L. C. Page and Company wish also to acknowledge the courtesy of the editors in granting the