30 Day Fiancé Novels & Stories

She smiled and said, "He's expecting you. Please follow me." I followed her to a table in the back of the restaurant, where I saw a man in his late 30s sitting and waiting for me. He stood up and extended his hand. "Hello, I'm Mr. Tommy. It's a pleasure to meet you," he said. I shook his hand and said, "It's nice to meet you too, Mr. Tommy. Thank you for taking the time to interview me."

So I crank the music and dance. I think I hear the front door open. I slow my dancing and squint through my double vision. “Calder?” I call out. No answer. Maybe I imagined it. I go back to dancing alone. Who cares if he is here? He’s probably come back to say he changed his mind about the month. I asked for thirty days like it could fix three years of being overlooked. But I didn’t ask for forever. Because I know he will never give me that. One month isn’t too much to ask.

"I did it because nobody tells me when I’m allowed to lose. Not Silas, not Elara... and not you." She pulled him into a kiss, a deep, fierce claim that tasted of victory and the promise of a future they had stolen back from the dark. "The thirty days are over, Dominic," she breathed against his lips. "The contract is dead. What happens now?" Dominic smiled—a real, genuine smile that reached his eyes. "Now? Now we find out if the world is ready for us."

"Yeah, I don't know about that. I mean, no offense, but I'm not exactly sure what being your fake wife for thirty days is going to do for my career." I chuckle. "Fair enough. But you never know. Stranger things have happened." Our conversation continues like this throughout the meal, with plenty of sarcastic jabs and witty comebacks. I can tell that Raini is still a little bit guarded, but I'm determined to break through her defenses and get to know the real her. Who knows? Maybe by the end of these thirty days, we'll actually become friends.

He had locked me in. “What is it?” He studied me for a while and then stepped forward, the rain dripping from his lashes. “Stay with me for thirty days.” I blinked so hard my eyes ached, “What?!” “Just thirty days.” He insisted, “Spend those days with me. Give me a chance to be close to you. Allow yourself to fall in love with me in those days, and if by the end of thirty days, you don't love me, I'll grant you any wish.”

Jasper Eaton decides to ditch me at the altar just so he can meet up with Wendy Klein, his ex-girlfriend who abandoned him when he almost got crippled five years ago. All the guests are stunned, to say the least. I can only tug at Jasper's hem of his shirt while trying very hard to keep my expression intact. "Can you please stay with me now?" Mixed feelings cross his eyes, but he soon wrenches my hand off him, finger by finger. At the same time, he shakes his head. "I'm sorry, but I must go now. I need to ask Wendy why she was so heartless to me back then." Amid the crowd's shocked gasps and murmurs, Jasper leaves without even looking back. My dad, who has a bad heart, trembles violent

“Fair point. What’s up?” She took a breath. “How much to be my fake boyfriend for my sister’s wedding weekend?” Finn blinked. Once. Twice. “Excuse me?” “$1,500. Just smile, hold my hand, pretend we’re in love for three days, don't worry no extra strings. No real dating. You show up, act like we’ve been together six months, charm my family, and walk away with cash.” He stared at her like she’d grown a second head.

“I require a fiancée.” I stared at him. The thought was so absurd, so far outside the realm of my reality, that I actually checked the door to make sure no one else had heard him. “A what?” “A fiancée,” he repeated, laying the document flat on the table.“A temporary, publicly acceptable partner. Six months. I have a situation requiring I appear settled, committed, and absolutely above reproach. It’s an image problem, and you, Miss Chen, are a clean slate with a very large, pressing problem that requires capital injection.”

"But I like my things well-maintained. If you’re going to be mine, I want you looking like this every day. I want you focused on me, not on how you're going to pay for your next flight to see me. Consider the money a perk, not the point." ​"Three months," I read, pointing to the duration clause. ​"Three months to see if you can handle being a billionaire’s obsession without losing your mind," he said. "If at the end of it, you want your freedom back, you walk away. No strings. But for the next ninety days, you’re mine." “Ninety days seems to short” I muttered. “We’ll see how you can handle it…I hope you won't start singing a different tune later.”

I whispered, staring at my pale reflection in the mirror. "Yes. You’ve done an incredible job, Grace. You saved us. But the play is ending. Do not get attached. Do not make plans past thirty days. If Sebastian finds out now... we lose everything." "I understand," I said numbly. "Stick to the script. Goodbye, Grace." The line went dead. I lowered the phone. Thirty days. I had thirty days left to be his wife. Thirty days left to sleep in his bed, to laugh at his dry jokes, to hold his hand in the car.