Marriage Rules Novels & Stories

I can't attend by myself nor leave alone, I must be by his side. The third term was that I had to live in his house. Whoever set the goddamn rules that if you're married you have to live together? Fourth term? I couldn't be with any other man, I must be faithful to the marriage, no sleeping out there which was just ourightly outrageous. And there goes the fifth and sixth term, I must cooperate with the merger between the stavros and reed merger and also never disclose the nature of the arrangement of our marriage. I sighed out loudly, feeling extremely frustrated already and it's just day one.

The rules had been written clearly. Edward remembered the evening they had drafted them with unusual precision. It had happened at the dining table only two days before the wedding—documents spread neatly between them, pens placed carefully beside a printed agreement that looked more like a corporate contract than the foundation of a marriage. No shared bedroom. No physical intimacy. Public affection only when necessary. Clear financial separation. Absolute honesty during immigration interviews. Minimal emotional involvement. It had all seemed sensible at the time. Efficient.

Christ, what have I gotten myself into? “Rule one: We're not in love. This is a contracted marriage. There will be no love, no jealousy, no possessiveness, no asking about the other's whereabouts. All you have to do is play the role of a perfect wife, give birth, and leave with your body still intact.” He explained, and I swallowed, listening attentively. “Rule 2: never tell anyone about the contract. We're married, that's all anyone needs to know. Just those two rules. Do you understand?” He asked, and I nodded quickly, earning a satisfied smirk from him. “You can leave.”

He was too arrogant to be sure that I was going to agree! ‘Well, you’re the one who first suggested it, if you’ve forgotten,’ Ulva’s mocking voice echoed in her mind, prompting Scarlett to sigh inwardly, ‘Stop making a fuss, Ulva.’ ‘Yeah, whatever.’ She shut herself off again. The marriage contract is for three years with lots of rules. The main ones are in bold letters. 1. During this time, neither party shall interfere in the other’s life. However, when necessary, they will portray themselves as a couple in love in public, with no room for denial.

“Before you sign the contract, there are rules you must follow.” Rules? “What rules?” His voice deepened, “This will be a contract marriage, but we’re not going to treat it like it’s one.” My ears piqued. “What do you mean?” “You’re going to live with me if you sign this. All your things are going to be moved right away.” My heart pounded with each word he uttered. “As long as you’re married to me, you’re going to be a loyal wife. In other words, you’re not allowed to be sexually or romantically involved with anyone.”

Since when did that become a thing? Alicia was deeply confused but she couldn't bring herself to question him now. "The three rules are : Don't touch me, Don't talk to me, Stay out of my business." He blurted out heartlessly. Her eyes widened in shock. What would be marriage without those things? How could she and Alicia be married to him without talking to him? Not allowed to touch him? She could still cope with the first rule but the other two? Hell no! It wasn't possible.

Only the maids and other servants in the house were allowed to go in there, and it was just once a month when they would clean and wash the clothes in there. She came back into the room and sat on the bed, and I quickly made a quick calculation in my head—one which would free me from this shackle called marriage earlier than I thought. She had to get pregnant soon, and she would walk away on her own accord after delivering and giving the heir to which we got married for. Let’s get to business! I turned to her, “I have given you the first rule of this marriage, and now the second rule is being at my bed on every even day,” I stated.

And in that moment, standing beneath his smirk and the weight of five years of grief, she realized something terrifying: She had walked back into the arms of the storm. “What rules?” Marceline asked, her voice brittle as glass, but her spine steel. Cross smiled—a slow, dangerous smile that curled with arrogance and amusement. He leaned back on the leather couch like a king on a throne, lounging in his own cruelty. “Rule number one: This is just a marriage of convenience,” he said, voice silk-wrapped steel. She blinked, stunned, as the air in the room thickened. “Rule number two: You’re not allowed to get physically attached to any other male. Ever.”

The tie clip inside was still delicate, and the card read: Safety, health, and mutual trust are the best marriage. After reading it, Shen Zeyan gently hugged me. Instead of an expensive gift, he took out a family agreement we wrote together: Communicate frankly immediately when encountering any problem, without hiding or bearing it alone; Trust each other firmly and not be influenced by external rumors or malicious videos;

His deep, mysterious eyes flickered with an emotion I couldn't quite place. He stood there, speechless for what felt like forever. I stared at his face, so close to mine, and found myself lost in thought. He was undeniably handsome—he had strong features but not harsh, with an aura of quiet intensity. Yet, even facing such a breathtaking man, I felt nothing. "Noah, our marriage was always about business. There's no need to overthink it. "I've known about you and Lillian for a while now. You know what you should and shouldn't do. Grandpa cares a lot about the Brookes' reputation."