A Marriage of Revenge: His Uncle Takes Over

In the church.

Dressed in her gown, Luna Carter was told that her groom, Noah Davis, had eloped.

Her brother, Henry Carter, insisted that the wedding proceed — only with Noah’s uncle, Theodore Davis, as the groom.

“Henry, don’t you know Theodore and I are adversaries?” she objected.

“I know. But if you marry him, you two will be on the same side, competing with Noah for control of the Davis family. That is — revenge,” Henry said.

Luna fell silent.

Then she nodded — so this was the revenge plan.

The wedding proceeded as scheduled.

With a bouquet in hand, Luna stood beside Theodore.

Before them, the priest held a book, ready to make his declaration.

She kept stealing glances at Theodore — his tall, imposing frame exuded a powerful aura, an almost physical pressure that pressed against her ribs.

Why would he marry me? For profit? Or revenge?

If he dares to humiliate me, I, Luna Carter, will fight back.

Theodore suddenly turned and looked at her coldly, sending a jolt through her.

Caught red-handed, guilt flushed her cheeks.

Why should I flinch?

It’s the Davis family who wronged me. I have no reason to feel guilty.

She forced herself to steady her nerves. Lifting her chin, she snorted softly.

Seeing that, Theodore’s lips curved instinctively. Then he turned toward the priest as the man began his long-awaited blessing.

“Mr. Theodore Davis, do you take this woman to be your lawful wife? Do you promise to love, cherish, honor, and respect her in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, until death do you part?”

“I do,” Theodore replied, voice low and steady, eyes fixed on the priest.

Luna shot him a glance, astonished by his flawless composure — what an actor.

The priest nodded and turned to her.

“Miss Luna Carter, do you take this man to be your husband? Do you promise to love him, cherish him, respect him, and accept him, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, to love and honor him always, until death do you part?”

“I do.” Luna met the priest’s gaze directly, her voice gentle yet firm.

The priest smiled. “Now, please exchange rings.”

Theodore opened a box and drew out a diamond ring. Holding it steady in one hand, he lifted Luna’s wrist with the other and slid the ring onto her finger — slowly, deliberately, almost reverently.

She had to admit, the new ring gleamed brighter and finer than the one Noah had chosen.

Now it was her turn. She took the ring box from the bridesmaid, opened it, and slipped the band onto Theodore’s finger.

“Now, groom, you may kiss your bride,” the priest announced.

Theodore’s gaze locked on Luna’s. His hands settled on her shoulders — gentle, yet inescapably firm. He tilted his head, his breath brushing her cheek, and her heartbeat stumbled.

When his lips met hers, a shock shot through her body. She froze, mind blank. She’d thought he wouldn’t actually do it.

In the next instant, Theodore released her and straightened, his expression utterly indifferent.

A surge of anger burned up Luna’s spine. Her eyes widened; her mouth parted, but she swallowed the curse rising in her throat. Bloody man.

Her fists clenched so tightly that her nails bit into her palms. When the ceremony ended, the guests erupted into applause.

She turned and glared at Theodore. Through gritted teeth, she hissed, “You just wait, Theodore Davis.”

He let out a low, mocking laugh, eyes gleaming with challenge — We’ll see.

Her body trembled with rage.