Novel Istri Kontrak Novels & Stories

“Why don’t you work for my agency? You know that I run an agency for high-profile contract girlfriends or wives, right?” Justin asked. I guess I heard something about it before, but I didn’t know the details. Frankly, I wasn’t interested in these sorts of things and isn’t it sort of like a shady business? I was also finding it hard to believe that Justin was suggesting for me to work as a ‘contract wife’ or whatever it was called. “You mean like…become an escort? Or like a…prostitute?” I asked, unable to find a better word to use.

But before she could get the words out, he quickly gathered his things and left the room without a word. He didn't know her name or care about her life. She was just another conquest to him, another notch on his bedpost. All he cared about was satisfying his own desires, no matter the cost. As he left the room, a sense of exhilaration and power surged through him. Little did he know, this moment would come back to haunt him in ways he never could have imagined. Chapter 1 "A marriage contract?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Elma's eyes widened in shock as Gael handed her a document.

Just this morning she was a single lady,but now she was married. After soaking herself for 30minutes she got out of the tub and got into her night wear. She then switched on her phone which had been of for almost the whole day. She had a lot of missed calls,most which was from Jane and some were from her father. Just as she was about to call Jane she received a notification from an unknown number. It contained the terms of the contract,the sender was definitely Elias. She opened the message and read through the terms 1. Both parties are not allowed to develop feelings for each other,if feelings arise they must not act on them.

"What happened to their estate?" "The family’s businesses and assets were transferred to a management firm. Her mafia father tried to claim them under marriage rights, but he was unsuccessful." Adrian hung up and immediately contacted his private lawyer. ******************* Ashleigh sat stiffly as the lawyer read the terms of the marriage contract aloud. "This Marriage Contract (the 'Agreement') is made and entered into as of [Date] by and between Mr. Adrian Cagliari, the first party, and Miss Ashleigh Hartman, the second party..."

She stated before she started the car, and the ride to wherever she was taking us, began. "That's not possible," I muttered when what she said earlier crossed my mind. Although I have never seen Mr. Miles with any woman, rumors had it that he only deals with classy girls, and I'm nowhere near his standard. Not that he was my type either, anyway. But come to think of it, why did we sign a marriage contract? I thought to myself, but quickly dismissed the thoughts because I was sure that whatever was happening had nothing to do with him being in love with me.

Theo shifted his gaze from his phone, his gray eyes locking onto hers. “The contract,” he said bluntly. “You look like someone who just sold their soul.” Hazel clenched her fists, suppressing the surge of emotion rising in her chest. “I had no choice,” she replied softly but firmly. “This is for my mother.” Theo let out a small chuckle, a cold, hollow sound. “Sacrificing for family. How cliché,” he murmured dismissively. Hazel shot him a glare, her eyes burning with defiance.

I couldn't comprehend what I had just heard. “What do you mean? I'm your wife? How?” My voice was shaking as I quietly retorted. “You'd fucking obey me, okay? Do as I say.” His grip on my hand became firmer as an old, rich lady approached us. “Is this her? She's so beautiful! Oh my.” The woman said, pulling me into an abrupt hug. She could have felt the way my heart was racing so fast, but I guessed not. “Mom, you fall for Massimo's tricks so fast. She doesn't even look happy. Don't you think he hired a fake wife?” A tall, muscular guy with a tattoo on his left arm smirked, walking into the conversation.

“Funny you should say that.” Brandon’s playful expression faltered as he took the documents from my hand. His brows furrowed as he skimmed the first page. “A marriage contract? You already had it drafted.” I nodded. “I had it drafted earlier. Look it over.” His eyes flicked back to the paper, scanning the terms. “So, this is what you wanted from me,” he murmured. His tone was unreadable, but something about it made my stomach twist.

ISABELLA’S POV The call came at six in the morning. Alessandra, my fabric supplier in Milan. “Isabella, we have a problem.” I was upright instantly, reaching for my laptop. “What kind of problem?” “Our launch contract. Someone from Moretti Luxe contacted us yesterday claiming there were irregularities. They’re threatening legal action if we fulfill the order.” Cold spread through me. “Who?” “Samuel Moretti. He said he was auditing ISMARA-related contracts. Raised concerns about pricing structures and conflicts of interest.”