Flash Marriage Spouse Is A Wealthy Family Novels & Stories

Her heel twisted on a loose stone, and she tumbled into a puddle of muddy rainwater with a splash. "N-no… impossible!" She jabbed a finger at me, the nail nearly grazing my cheek. "She was just some poor girl desperate to cling to you. She can't possibly be your wife!" Lawrence couldn't even be bothered to respond. He simply drew out his phone, tapped twice, and shoved the screen toward them. It was a family portrait, taken on our third wedding anniversary. Behind us stretched the floor-to-ceiling windows of our villa. The children perched on his shoulders, laughing brightly, while I leaned against him, my smile radiant.

Everyone knew Amber Sherry was hopelessly in love with me. She would even risk her life for me. I got into a severe car accident to save her. My health never fully recovered. Because I had a rare blood type, she was terrified that something else might happen to me. She found someone with the same blood type and kept him on standby. He would donate blood to me whenever I needed it. I was also hopelessly in love with her. After she gave birth to Aria, I did not care what people thought. We gave her Amber’s last name—Aria Sherry. I did not want her to go through another pregnancy, so I got a vasectomy. Every socialite in our circle was jealous of what we had. On the day of Aria’s baby de

"Oh, you're getting married? Where's this guy? Bring him out so we can all see. If he's real, I'll give you a nice wedding gift—consider it a thank you for finally leaving me alone." "Yeah, same here! A big celebration like this calls for fireworks, right?" Seeing their confident expressions, I let out a cold laugh and reached for my phone.

Until the Hawthorne family finally hit rock bottom. When debts started piling up like cordwood and their so-called 'reputation' was on the verge of a complete and utter collapse, the family made the obvious choice. They arranged her marriage to Julian Moreau - some pampered, out-of-touch rich kid whose family had all sorts of connections. The wedding was a bloody spectacle. The vows were empty. And the marriage was a nightmare that just went on and on.

To expand my family's arms empire, I personally blew our old base sky-high. As I surveyed the charred ruins, I filmed a video and posted it on social media. I joked that my family had suffered a crushing defeat in a turf war and that I would have to wait tables to survive. My fiancé Antonio, who had always doted on me, called immediately. Feeling mischievous, I pretended to be afraid and tested him. "Anton, my home has been leveled, and our enemies are hunting me down everywhere… I’m terrified. Will you run away with me?" To my surprise, Antonio gave a cold laugh on the other end of the line and snapped at me. "Know your place, Ophelia. Without your status as the Don’s daughter, you should t

Nate barely had time to catch her before they tumbled back onto the bed. She pounded a fist against his chest, which barely made an impact. “What was it, huh? You saw my card, my balance? That’s why you tricked me into this!” Nate met her glare, unruffled. Then, with a grin, “Sure, wifey. Let’s say I married you for your money. Because your personality’s not exactly charming.” She froze, stunned by his boldness. “You-!”

Because Rose said: "If we start marriage with private jet, we will end with private jet divorce like other billionaires. If we start with mold, we will appreciate no mold later. Like Mom started with instant noodles and now has 50 flower shops." Leo, in Primark hoodie £15, itchy, said: "I agree, my Rose. I burned Loro Piana for you. I can live with mold for you. Mold is new rich. Mold is... organic." So Ethan's private jet flew empty to Santorini. Oliver's private island stayed empty with 50 staff waiting. And the newlyweds - £240B combined net worth if you count future inheritance, but £800 bank account if you count their poor acting - stayed in Shoreditch.

Jason finally spoke. Measured. Controlled. “We are currently reviewing legal options.” Not dramatic. Not emotional. Just factual. I looked back at the reporter who had asked the question. “As for the suggestion that our marriage is a ‘front’ because our families disapprove…” I allowed myself a small smile. “My grandfather is happy with my chosen husband, he provided acomodations for my new family.” A ripple of surprise. “And Mr. and Mrs. Sun have publicly acknowledged our union.” Another pause. “If there are hidden partners, I would be very inclined to meet them myself, they sound interesting.”

At the wedding, Stephen held my hand as we walked down a carpet made entirely out of imported roses. Matthew and Mark walked in front of us, while Luke, who still had not weaned, was in my arms. That day, due to the news of the wedding, Fenton Group's shares surged to the daily limit. Media outlets rushed to report. [The Summer Family's Daughter Brings Prosperity to Both Her Husband and The Heirs. The Fenton Family Rises to Even Greater Heights, Securing Another Century of Dominance.] At the same moment, Jack was squatting in a corner in prison, eating cold and rotten leftovers.

"She looks... she’s..." Ian stepped toward Valentina, his presence a dark, overwhelming shadow. He wrapped a heavy arm around her waist, hauling her flush against his side. The heat of him was intoxicating, sandalwood, smoke, and pure authority. Valentina didn't pull away. She leaned into him, using his massive frame as a shield against the monster she used to love. The monster who wanted to kill her. "This is my wife, Misha Kingston," Ian announced, his voice laced with a possessive, territorial pride that cut through Kennedy’s sanity. "Misha, this is Kennedy. My lead accountant. He handles the tedious details of my smaller holdings."