My Contract Husband Resembles The Male Protagonist Novels & Stories

I flailed my arms, “Does anything make sense?” I started to pace around the room as he smiled. “You decided to get married to me because you wanted to get back at your father. Don’t make this whole thing a big deal like you actually care for me or what I am going through.” I looked to the side and touched my beard. “Look, we don’t need to argue about this. You belong to me according to the contract.” He came close to me as I stood towering him. “I belong to you?” He laughed. “I belong to you? That’s what we are doing now? Who belongs to who? So we’re having some sort of slave and master relationship now?”

"Relax, dear wife. I am not that desperate. Did you forget that we have a contract?" There was one thing he said that made me immediately flinch and shift away from him. I turned around and frowned at him. Why was he provoking me? More like — why was he seducing me? "Ah, Mister Desmond Lucas, I think it's you I should be reminding about the contract. You seem to always forget that this is just a contract marriage we agreed on. Yet you keep coming to me... Am I really that irresistible?"

as if unveiling a secret world meant only for us. I lay on a sumptuous bed, still trying to process the whirlwind of emotions while scrolling through social media updates. The remnants of scandal and gossip clung to every post, but all that faded when I felt a gentle touch on my back. Lucas’s lips traced a warm path along my neck, and despite my protests—reminding myself that this was just a contract—his soft, commanding whisper broke through: "I'm your husband now. This is more than a contract to me."

As if we weren’t fighting… as if I hadn’t been pushing him away. I turned my head to look at him. He was still fast asleep. It was the first time I’d looked at him this closely. His beard and mustache had grown a little thicker, but it didn’t matter—he was still incredibly handsome. Without realizing it, I smiled. Was this man really my husband? I knew ours was only a contract marriage. But to me… it was real. Every moment we spent together, every little thing we shared—it all felt real. I filled my lungs with a deep breath and decided to get up.

I said. "I understand. Then you need to find a husband". She suggested. "I don't need a husband". I said. "Huh? you don't need a husband? So how can you do it?" She asked. "I just need a man who will act like my husband, and am willing to pay for it". I said. "Wait, like a contract?". She asked. "Exactly, you get it. Like a contract." I replied. "But.but. that will be difficult. Getting a husband, I mean hiring a husband". She said.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily.” She chuckled softly, melting into my arms. I stayed with Brooke for a few more hours, just talking like we used to—not about revenge or secrets, just about us and our family. Eventually, I stood, adjusting my trousers. “Now that everything’s settled with you, I need to go find my wife.” Brooke’s expression turned sour. She rolled her eyes and folded her arms “You’re not legally married. She’s not your wife.” “It may be a contract marriage, but we’re legally married, Brooke,” I chuckled, turning to leave.

Joanne stretched her neck and glanced at the contract. The first term written was about the duties of husband and wife. Joanne blushed and threw the contract back to Edwin. "We're not even close at all." If she had not been mistaken she was pregnant, they would barely know each other. Edwin supported Joanne with one arm on the side of her head, which was very oppressive in her eyes. She then habitually stepped back. Meanwhile, his other hand wound around her waist as he stepped forward and pressed her into him.

My forehead creased, making him more and more impatient. “You need the money, I need a wife. All you have to do is marry me, give me an heir and you're free to go. I will take care of everything. You just have to sign the contract,” he said impatiently. I gasped. A contract? Wow, he must have planned it out. “Contract?“ “Yes, a contract to make sure you don't violate anything. I don't do love, and I don't believe in it either. Tell me when you've decided…” he said.

"So what if I've been with Petra? Wipe that look off your face." "So what?!" Valerie repeated, her voice hitting a piercing, manic pitch. Tears finally spilled over, hot and fast, blinding her. "You cheated on me! You broke our vows!" Damian let out a short, mocking scoff. "Don't forget yourself, Valerie. Our marriage has always been based on a contract. Nothing more. You knew the terms when you signed it. Don't act like this was some epic love story." The words sliced through whatever sanity she had left. Her lips quivered, but she forced a small, broken smile. "Of course. How could I forget? Everything with you is just a transaction. A convenient agreement."

Close enough to wonder what kind of man carried that story for two years and still got up in the morning looking like stone. “Who took her?” she whispered. His eyes returned to hers. “I don’t know.” The bedroom door unlocked behind them. Slowly. Mrs Vale gasped. Adrian moved instantly, pulling Elena behind him again, but not before she saw the door open by inches. A man’s voice came from the hallway, old and cold and pleased. “Send in the contract wife.”