After Marrying A Dying Bigshot Novels & Stories

I stood frozen and speechless, unconsciously the coffee cup trembling in my hand as I stared at the business card like it was my fate. Marry him? For money? Was I really that desperate to that extent? A broken voice inside me whispered, Yes. My life was about to change in ways I could never imagine.

Tell me the truth, Rachel. I swallow hard, my fingers tightening around the strap of my purse. There’s no escape from this. "I got married"" I announce, my voice barely above a whisper. Silence crashes into the room. Emily gasps, her hand flying to her mouth. My father’s face contorts into something unreadable before it hardens into anger. "You did what?!" "I got married," I repeat, a bit stronger this time. "It was the only way, Dad. I needed to make sure you got the treatment you—"

My wife who never associated with smoke died from lung cancer. “You guys were going to get divorced, didn’t she throw a tantrum when she found out you’re in the mafia? I low-key knew that your marriage was gonna fall out since y’all never liked each other that much, you guys got married because it was going to put on a good font on both your businesses, right? Since Lillian was a model at that time.” Theodore quips. “Damn, she would’ve taken the kids too.” I gulped down the rest of the burning liquid in my glass before looking at Theodore. He raised a questioning brow at my gaze, and I tilted my head, a smile appearing on my lips as I spoke.

"Why? If you didn't want to be married, you could have divorced me..." "Divorce is messy. Expensive. My father would cut me off if I divorced you within the first five years of marriage. The prenup was very clear." Lucas leaned back in his chair. "This way is cleaner. You die from postpartum complications. I'm the tragic widower. I inherit your trust fund. And in a respectable amount of time, I marry Alice." "My trust fund?"

Georgina shrugged. I glared at her with every form of rage burning in my eyes. "Georgina just shut the hell up!" I hollered. "This has nothing to do with money, okay? I just got married, he's my husband, and now I received a stupid call that he was dead. What do I do now? Celebrate that I still have billions of dollars and forget that someone who loves me with his whole heart just died?" "No, I didn't..." she trailed off.

“What is this?” “A proposal,” he said. “A solution. My father’s will contains a clause that requires me to be married within the year to maintain certain corporate protections. I need a wife—under terms that protect my interests. You need payment for your brother’s surgery. I provide funds, you provide marriage for one year. No emotional entanglement. A formal, legal arrangement.” The room tilted in on itself. Elena felt disoriented as if the carpet had moved. “Are you—are you offering me money for marriage?” Her laugh sounded broken and incredulous. “That’s—cruel.”

I draped a towel over his shoulder. "You're in a white dress, we love each other, how about it, Bambi, marry me?" He asked, his voice not shaken, but simply as if he was so sure. As if he wanted nothing more at this moment. "We can be like that couple from that tv show". He said, and I hated to break it to him, they never made it. "They got a divorce after you fell asleep". I said, and he whimpered. "Well we can be them post me sleeping". He agreed, as I leaned against his back, my hands wrapping around his waist.

I said, emotionless. "What?" she asked, disbelief evident in her voice. "You said you’d kill yourself if I married Chase, right? Go ahead. Because even if it kills you, Chase and I are getting married. So, see you soon in hell, my dear sister."

I tapped on the door, and Drew’s blond head popped up. “Hey, Nate,” he said as he started to smile, then frowned. “Is everything okay?” I shook my head and leaned on the door frame. “No.” “What’s going on?” I let out a harsh sigh as I fell into the chair in front of his desk. “Vincent Marconi is dead and his organization is crumbling. Adam is in jail. Life should be rainbows and fucking sunshine, but my marriage is blowing up.” His brow scrunched up. “Wait…what? You should be kicking back and enjoying life after everything you’ve been through.”

“If the Moreira family hears you say that, they could have your tongue cut out!” “How can a man in a coma even get married? Can he sign the marriage documents? You’re sacrificing me because you don’t want your precious daughter to become his caretaker, aren’t you?” Tatiana looked from Oliver to Clarisse, then to Oktavia, before finally turning her gaze toward Ethan and Dylan. “And you two... You agree that I should marry that man too?” she asked hoarsely. For a moment, Tatiana had allowed herself to believe that there was still a little love left in her brothers’ hearts.