A Contract Marriage With My Boss Novels & Stories

Three years. That’s how long it’s been since I became both Mrs. Addams and still the secretary to Derek Addams, the man who, once upon a time, was just my boss. Three years of a life that feels like a dream amazes me sometimes when I think about how I got here Three years ago, after paying the hospital bills, instead of accepting my offer to pay him back, he offers me a marriage contract, with me getting ten illion for every year we stay married and said contract expires in four years, which is nine months away,

“This isn’t a game. You’re my husband now. You can’t keep pretending you still live in another city, like you can shut me out whenever it suits you. Listen, we signed a contract. All we can do is make sure that we fulfill the contract terms to avoid the people looking into our lives.” The room was suddenly too small with how close he was to me. The walls pushed us together, asking for something neither of us were ready to give. We stared at each other for a while before he smiled and nodded as he stepped back. "Fine," he muttered, voice rougher now, almost tired. "I'm not gonna force you. I might be overstepping my bounds as a boss but we had a contract signed. Sleeping in the same bed is th

he retorted. My eyes widened, “what are you trying to say? Are you saying that you're only using me as an option because you have no other options? This is so disrespectful, Mr. D'Amor. How do you then expect me to accept your contract marriage if your approach is unbearably rude?”. “Because I am your boss, you do whatever I say. You do me or you get fired, I can just hire anyone to marry me anyway so grasp this opportunity since you always wanted it anyway but pretended in the first place.”.

“But the truth is, we have been worried about the boss and the madam, they don’t always interact in the way married couples do, so we felt they were in crisis but we were too afraid to ask either one of them. But when we saw the pictures today, we were so happy, and this is just our way of showing that we are rooting for you.” Paige’s frown softens for a bit and Crystal smiled. “Thank you, Debbie.” Crystal started. “I appreciate your concern but there is no need to be worried about us; Mr. Smith is a person who likes to be formal and responsible, at home, we are an inseparable couple but here he is my boss and not my husband, it’s just another way to show a better example of being a leader.”

"Apollo, let’s be real. With that scandal hanging over her head, your parents will never accept her. It’ll be a bloodbath. Don't tell me you actually like your secretary?" "I don't like her," Apollo said flatly while his eyes were fixed on the bottom of his glass. "She’s just convenient. The situation presented itself and I took it. It’s a tactical move and nothing more." Tommy scoffed while leaning back with a skeptical look. "So what? You marry her and then divorce her in a few years? You say you don't like her now, but what happens when you start spending every waking hour together? Have you thought about what happens if you actually fall for her?"

Why do I keep doing this to myself? "The marriage wasn't fake, Hailey," he says, exasperation dripping from his tone. But I don't give a flying fuck about how frustrated he is right now. He caused it. "My lawyer messed up the deal. Instead of us signing a fake agreement, we actually got legally married by contract," he hesitates, like he's preparing himself to deliver more bad news. "For one year." Ah ha. I knew there had to be more. On Monday, we met at Levi's attorney's office to sign what was supposed to be a fake marriage contract, because Levi insisted that my parents might want proof that we're really married.

“I work under an agency. I’m just doing my job.” Her tone was cold, detached. She knew he’d have questions. And she was ready to answer them because she knew how these contract marriages worked all too well. George scoffed. “And this is what your company does? Marries people off without their consent?” “She didn’t ask for much. Just presence. Discretion. Patience.” He let out a bitter laugh. “She asked you to live in my house and pretend to be my wife.” “She asked me to protect the image of your marriage. And to give you the privilege to explore.”

She stated. I felt quite embarrassed for a mere bartender to have such courage to rub the shit they talk about my company on my face. “So, a contract marriage,” I said slowly, testing the idea. “What makes you think I would even consider something like that? And with you?” I asked, letting out a little laughter. She leaned in slightly, her lips curving into a small, confident smile. “Because it’s the perfect solution for both of us. You need the public to believe you’re happily married. And I need the money. We both walk away with exactly what we want—no strings attached.”

Since there wasn't much work to do at the restaurant, I had given him some time off. “Get to work and find me a woman who's ready to sign a marriage contract lasting one year. She will be offered a substantial amount of money as compensation,” I explained over the phone. “A marriage contract?” I heard him question, his voice uncertain. “Yes. You have just two weeks to find her. I need to take her to see my parents then,” I said. “Alright, Boss. I’ll start right away,” he replied. I disconnected the call and let out a sigh of relief. At least any woman would do. It's for just a year.

What the hell is he talking about? " I've said it before, I intend to visit my mother, see my friends, and work too." " Work, no freaking way!" " That's sexist of you!" " So be it, my wife won't work! " He takes a deep breath. " Look, you can go out, okay? Visit your mother and see your friends, as long as my security accompanies you. However, once you sign this contract, some places will be off-limits for you. " I audibly huff.