Contos e Romances de Romance com Love after Marriage

I married someone two years ago. From then on, I lived a happy life. Thankfully, I did not have to deal with a mother-in-law and did not have to work. I even got two hundred thousand dollars from my husband every month as pocket money. Even my best friends lived the high life because of me. But today, right after I got my allowance, I got a call from the police station. They told me to pick my husband up from there.

The moment I opened the door, I never imagined that my fiancé would be in bed with my best friend, both of them wearing nothing. I went absolutely crazy and charged toward them, wanting nothing more than to kill the two of them. But my fiancé shoved me to the floor and, turning it around, blamed me instead. "Rosalind," he sneered, "if you hadn't been so self-righteous and refused to sleep with me, I wouldn't have cheated!" Fine. Since he no longer wanted me, I married his older brother. On the day of the wedding, I smiled at him and said, "Norris, guess what? I'm your sister-in-law now."

I ended up with the person who used to bully me in school. As the morning sunlight seeped into the room, I barely moved my arm when the arm wrapped around my waist tightened, pulling me closer. Ethan Chambers lowered his head to kiss my neck, his deep voice tinged with a husky tone from just waking up. "Did you fall asleep last night?" I froze for a moment before nodding obediently. In the past, I might have resisted, but three weeks with him taught me a simple lesson to be compliant. He took my hand, which rested at my side, and interlaced his fingers with mine, playing with them as if amused. Leaning close to my hair, he let out a low chuckle full of interest. "This time, you didn’t throw away the ring I gave you?" He was referring to the diamond ring on my finger. There had been two others before this one—one I hid in the freezer, and the other I threw into the fountain in the garden downstairs. I didn’t want to think about the consequences of losing the first two rings for now, but the result of the third ring was clear: I was going to marry him, the person I once feared the most.

The year I was at my poorest, I impersonated my sister to take care of her blind fiancé in exchange for one hundred thousand dollars. On the day he regained his sight, I left without a word. When we met again, it was during a business interview. I was a nameless intern reporter. He had returned to his rightful status as the heir of the influential Hughes family. During the interview, the host asked, "We’ve heard that during your illness, your fiancée, Miss Dawson, stayed by your side through thick and thin. The two of you are about to get married?" He lifted his hand slightly, revealing a ring, and his lips curled into a faint smile. "Yes, we’re getting engaged soon." Yet, his gaze, through the lens of his glasses, landed—intentionally or not—on me, standing in the corner.

Silas Grant and I are renowned in our social circle for being a loving couple. However, a month before our wedding, he calls everything off. He wants to marry the poor student that my parents have been sponsoring. I demand an explanation. He says to me, "Vivian will have to marry that cripple if I don't marry her. You're the kindest person I know, Serena. I'm sure you can understand why I'm doing this." "Fine, then," I say. Silas leans down to kiss my cheek. He holds me happily and says, "I knew you'd agree to this. Don't worry, okay? I'll divorce her once this matter is settled." I push him away lightly and wipe his saliva from my cheek. Then, I pull out an invitation from my pocket. He takes it. His smile freezes when he sees the names on the invitation.

"Hello, I want a divorce." In the third year of her marriage, Roxanne Levine decided to file for divorce. But she did so without telling her husband. Across the desk, the lawyer, Nathaniel Shepherd, responded in a formulaic tone after hearing her intent. "If you wish to proceed with a divorce, both parties need to sign the divorce agreement. After that, there will be a one-month cooling-off period before the divorce is finalized. Did your husband not come with you today?" Roxanne paused for a few seconds. "I'll make sure he signs it." "Very well. I'll draft a divorce agreement for you."

There's a month to Angela Thompson's wedding, but she's no longer sure whether to proceed with it. The reason for her doubts? Her fiancé, Carl Swain, wants to have a child with his good friend's widow, Lucy Hogg. Carl says, "Keith was my best friend. He died so suddenly, leaving Lucy alone in this world. She tried to take her life a few times, you know. Maybe having a child will help her get past this." Angela can't understand it. She says, "Lucy can adopt or marry someone else if she wants a child. She can even go to a sperm bank abroad if she wants! Why do you have to be the one to have the child with her?"

On the day of my ninth wedding attempt, my fiancé, Lucas Yearwood, leaves me jilted again. This time, I follow him. I see him holding his adoptive sister's hand as they walk into the obstetrics department. "Lucas, I dreamed that we're having a boy—he's definitely going to be as handsome as you." Watching the two of them laugh and chat like that, I feel my blood freeze. After I chased Lucas for seven years, I got a chance to use a debt of gratitude to force a marriage contract out of him. I backed him into a corner to make him marry me. Everyone thinks I can't survive without him. But this time, I hand the marriage contract back and leave him without looking back. On my wedding day, he calls me. "Viv! Where are you right now?" I'm in the shower. My new husband picks up the call for me. "Do you have business with my wife?" Later, I hear Lucas turned all of Riverville upside down, digging through every trash can to find our marriage contract.

In the five years of their marriage, Kimberly bore a son for Daniel, believing their life together would last. Then Siena returned to the country. Kimberly finally realized she was nothing but an outsider the whole time. Daniel repeatedly chose Siena over her, and even her son grew attached to Siena. Fortunately, their marriage was just a contract, and in seven days, she would be free to leave.

On the same day we were registering our marriage, my boyfriend, Levi Salfolk, had someone throw me out of the clerk's office while he led his childhood sweetheart inside. He looked at me nonchalantly. "Rosalie's child can't be illegitimate. I'll marry you once we get divorced." Everyone thought that the lovestruck me would wait for him for another month. After all, I had already waited for him for seven years. However, I went overseas that night, accepting the arranged marriage my family had set up for me and disappearing from his world. Three years later, I accompanied my husband back home to pay our respects to his ancestors. Something came up, and my husband sent someone from the local branch office to pick me up. Unexpectedly, I met Levi, whom I had not seen since I left. "Enough with the fooling around. Come back. Rosalie's child is starting preschool soon. You're in charge of picking up and dropping off the child."

I dated my younger brother’s best friend, Dylan Lane, for three years. More than once, he told me how much he loathed arranged marriages and how he hated being chained by family interests. However, one night, after another bout of indulgence, he wrapped his arms around me and begged me sweetly to design a wedding ring for his fiancée—someone he had never even met. The smile froze on my face, yet he just said indifferently, “Aren’t people like us all destined to marry for our families' benefit?” Seeing the blood drain from my face, he even chuckled. “Vee, don’t you tell me you're still as naïve as a 20-year-old girl, thinking I would ever marry you? At most, we're just… pillow friends." Later, I agreed to the marriage my family had arranged for me. Dylan showed up on my wedding day, disheveled and red-eyed. He fell to his knees and begged me not to leave. I stood beside my new husband, hand in hand, and smiled faintly as I chuckled. “Didn’t you say people like us were born for arranged marriages? I’m simply doing what you always wanted me to do. Shouldn’t you be happy?”

Emma Blanton twists her ankle, and my fiance, Matthew Harrison, insists on becoming her personal chauffeur. When I voice my disapproval, he makes an even more outrageous decision. He moves Emma into my apartment at Bellemont District—the apartment I bought with my own money. He argues like he's the victim, "You're being selfish. She's injured, and living alone is too dangerous for her right now. I'm just being a decent human being. "And that place is sitting empty anyway. Having someone there helps with security." On the morning we were supposed to get our marriage certificate, he doesn't show up. I call, expecting apologies. Instead, I hear, "Emma had a fever this morning—101 Fahrenheit. I had to take her to urgent care. We can postpone getting the marriage certificate. Her health can't wait." To hell with postponing! I grab my phone and call David Rockefeller. "Do you want to marry me? Then get to City Hall. I'm serious—right now."

Jenson Bailey suffered from severe face blindness. The morning after our wedding night, right after sleeping with me, he pulled up his pants and warned me coldly, "We got married for business. Profit comes first. We stay out of each other’s lives. Don’t forget your place, Natasha." So I picked up a part-time job at a coffee shop. Jenson said, "That girl has a really clean vibe. Look into her background." When I started singing at a bar, Jenson said, "That lead singer’s voice is incredible. Find a way to sign her to the company." After I set off fireworks by the beach, Jenson stared at me for a long moment before asking, "Miss, have we met somewhere before?" I told him I was married, and he went quiet for a while. "I’m not interested in being the other man. But can I ask when your husband plans to get out of the way?"

I have dated my girlfriend, Brenda Townsend, for eight years. She finally agrees to marry me. Filled with excitement, I head to the city hall. But to my surprise, I discover that the person waiting for me at the entrance is her best friend, Megan Cunningham. It turns out Brenda is on her way to her childhood sweetheart's house to take care of him. So I go along with it and marry Megan instead. Brenda loses her mind and breaks down. She cries hysterically while telling me that she has her reasons.

My husband, Ivan Sanders, found out that his first love, Brenda Waters, had gotten divorced. That very night, I asked for a divorce. Ivan smiled. "Are you sure? I'll call my secretary and have him cancel the custom dress from Butterfly." I blinked. Um... on second thought, maybe I should think it over a little longer.

When my husband from the arranged marriage lost his memory, I couldn't resist messing with him. “Adrian. Say 'Boss.'“ The man in the hospital bed hugged his pillow and looked up at me like a good little boy. “Boss.” I nodded, satisfied. Perfect. A whole year of marriage, and he never once called me his wife. One car crash, and he'd been demoted to calling me Boss. Adrian and I had an arranged marriage. I did it for my family's dying factory. After the wedding he was colder than the fridge. We slept in separate rooms. He wouldn't eat my cooking and wouldn't take my calls. He even saved my number in his phone as “the Bell girl.” I lived in the Crane house more carefully than the hired help. His mother thought I was poor. His aunt thought I was trash. Adrian thought I was an eyesore. Then came the crash. A clot pressing on the nerves in his brain. The doctor said his mind had rolled back to about six years old. I looked at the man in the bed, clutching my sleeve and refusing to let go, and on the inside, I was glowing. Payback. My moment had finally come. I wanted money. I wanted revenge. I wanted a divorce and a clean getaway.

To keep me from becoming a spinster, my father spared no expense in finding me a husband. Seduced by a handsome face, I rushed into a whirlwind marriage with a charming young gentleman. Little did I imagine that this gentleman would prove more dissolute than I. Not only did he hold clandestine meetings with four different women, but he was also legally married. Upon finding that out, I fled with my baby without hesitation. But there was something I could not fathom. Why did the fugitive the new king was hunting bear my exact face?

On my wedding night, I saw another me from fifty years in the future through the bronze mirror on the dressing table. The old woman in the mirror was in the same manor I had just married into. Blushing, I touched my hair. "Fifty years from now, will I be surrounded by family, living peacefully together?" But the old woman only leaned against the dark bed in silence. Then, a yellowed painted portrait slipped from her sleeve and fell at her feet. I shyly said, "Is that the portrait Matthew promised me on our wedding night? He said we would grow old together, hand in hand." Only then did the old woman scoff and slowly move closer to the mirror. I looked carefully. The woman in the portrait on the floor was... Sabella, my closest friend. A chill went through me as my future self forced a bitter smile and stared straight at me. "The truth is that Sabella Lane was abducted and violated on your wedding night, and then she died. Because you stopped Matthew Cross, he became certain that you had sent people to do it. After that, he hated you and tortured you for fifty years. "Gwendolen Shaw, I have now revealed to you the truth ahead of time. Whether you still stop him from seeking out Sabella tonight or not is your choice."

I'd known Ethan for twenty years. We'd been together for five. Everyone was certain that at the Rose Crown Gala, I would place the crown in his hands and publicly confirm our engagement, sealing the alliance between our families. But when I walked onto the stage, the person standing beside him was my adopted sister, Claire. She wore a custom white gown, my mother's missing rose diamond ring glinting on her finger. Behind them, the screen that should have displayed my name alongside Ethan's had been changed to theirs. The most laughable part? They'd been together behind my back for six months. My father ordered me in front of every guest, "Give Claire the crown. We'll discuss this at home!" They wanted to throw me out of my own family. My crown was tossed aside and landed in the arms of a mud-streaked stranger the guards had mistaken for a homeless man. I didn't hesitate. I pulled off my engagement gloves and walked up to him. "Will you marry me?" But after marrying that homeless stranger, I became the most powerful woman in the country.

In my past life, my sister and I got married on the same day. I married Ethan Vance, a conservative, old-school business tycoon. My fiery temper clashed with his family's rigid rules, and we fought constantly. My sister Seraphina married General Alexander Marshall, a cold and ruthless military man. She was gentle and timid, and while her husband was always away on duty, his adopted sister Sophia tormented her endlessly until she fell into depression and died. The first thing I did when I was reborn was swap husbands with my sister. Before the wedding, I made a deal with Alexander: "This is just a political marriage. We each get what we need. No feelings involved." But after we married, he became obsessed with my body. He kissed me over and over, whispering in my ear: "Are you sure about that, baby?"