Picked Up A Husband For Farming

Wade Collins is a genius who is affected by the mediocracy of normal life. Multi-billion deals no longer excited him, life was bland. Especially since he was not only a genius but also had the ability to see people’s true intentions. His life became interesting when Marianna crashed into it. Mistaking him as a bartender. She was the most genuine person he had ever met. And she had a proposal for him. She was willing to hire him as her husband. Well, it was not every day that he got prepositioned the way she did. And there was something about her that fired up his protective instincts. Well, there was one thing he knew for sure. His life was no longer boring. Not when he was now introduced to the family drama of opportunists, inheritance wars and corporate subterfuge

"He was supposed to be cannon fodder. Now he’s the CEO’s obsession.” Sky Templeton thought dying broke was the worst fate. That was until he opened his eyes in the body of a doomed secretary inside a cheesy romance novel he once rage-dropped. The role? Cannon fodder, destined to be crushed under the heel of the cold and ruthless billionaire CEO, Dream Lancaster. But life gives Gloss no time to despair. A mischievous system binds to him with cruel missions: survive 100 days, raise the CEO’s affection score from -1000 to +1000, and…most terrifying of all, rewrite his tragic ending. Gloss only wanted to survive. He never expected to become entangled in office politics, fake dating contracts, or the dangerous pull of a man who despised him. Yet, with every mission cleared, Dream’s icy mask begins to crack, revealing scars and loneliness Gloss never thought a ruthless CEO could carry. Was this just the system’s game, or had fate rewritten both their stories?

Extract Alpha Dominic’s gaze cut through me like ice. “I don’t know you,” he spat, his voice filled with disgust. “How dare you show up out of nowhere, claiming to be my mate, claiming to carry my child, when I have never laid eyes on you before?” “Um, I—” I opened my mouth to explain, to tell him everything, but he cut me off. “Are you here for money? Is that it?” Without waiting for an answer, he reached into his car and pulled out a bundle of cash, flinging it at my feet. “I don’t want to see your filthy face again. I won’t waste my energy rejecting you. We will never be together. The moon goddess must have been mistaken to think a lowlife like you could be my mate.” The money lay scattered on the ground as hot tears blurred my vision. “I’m not lying,” I sobbed. “I am carrying your child.” Wolfless and satisfied, all Odette ever wanted was to be promoted and to become a full-time teacher. But her world came crumbling down when her boss made sexual advances at her, saying it was the only way for her to keep her job. Brokenhearted, she ran from the school, and instead of going home to her family, she went to a hotel, got drunk, ended up in the bed of a stranger, and got pregnant afterwards. She was sent out of the house by her mother until she aborted the baby. Will she abort the baby? Or find the father of her child?

Four days after my death, my four-year-old daughter finally sensed that something was terribly wrong. The fridge door slammed into her forehead when she tried to get a snack. Normally, I would've been there in a heartbeat—arms open, kisses ready, whispering, "You're okay, sweetheart, Mommy's here." But this time, I just lay on the bed, cold and still.​ She didn't understand. She thought the sweet treat would make me respond. So she held the final piece of chocolate up to my mouth. "Here, Mommy. Have some chocolate..." But I didn't even blink. She climbed into my arms, clutching my clothes tightly. "Mommy... Mommy, wake up..." She waited for me to stroke her hair, to tell her that everything was going to be fine. There was only silence.​ Completely lost and scared, she found my phone. "Daddy, why is Mommy still sleeping?" she asked, her voice filled with desperation.​ In response, Oliver sent a photo of himself having Christmas Eve dinner with his childhood sweetheart. His voice was icy cold when he replied, "She's just sleeping, not dead. It's Christmas Eve, and I'm busy. Tell her to stop playing games and come apologize when she's done sulking." Then he hung up.​ But when the truth finally hit Oliver—when the coroner's report came, when the police knocked on his door right in the middle of his laughter, when he realized I'd been lying dead for four days while he toasted—he broke.

Betrayed by her fiancé, Claire is forced to marry Julian, the outcast grandson rumored to be poor and rude. Yet beneath the guise of a "menial worker," Julian is a mysterious ruler ready to destroy anyone who touches his wife. As dark secrets come to light, Claire realizes her husband is both the most dangerous predator and the protector she has always desired.

Even after being married for three years, my husband treats me like a stranger. When I throw up blood from pregnancy complications, he's in the prayer room chanting for his foster sister, Yvie Springton. He accuses me of being dramatic. If Yvie so much as gets a headache, he drops everything and flies overseas to be by her side. When his parents are in critical condition after a car crash, I beg him to go see them one last time. But what does he do? He claims I'm cursing Yvie. When I go into early labor and cling to life after giving birth to our son, he posts a photo of his international boarding pass on social media. At his parents' funeral, he returns to the country with Yvie and demands I leave the marriage with nothing. The day our divorce finalizes, he holds a wedding ceremony with her. I bury his parents alone. Then, at an exclusive auction, dead set on winning the famous painting for Yvie, he offered a staggering price. Even his accounts are frozen. That's when he finally realizes he's been disowned by the Springton family. His eyes are bloodshot, and he's furious as he demands answers. I simply gesture for my lawyer to step forward. He says, "Mr. Springton, take a look at this will."

“Congratulations on your wedding! Although we must have missed our invite in the mail. We’d like to catch up with…” There’s no reason to keep reading the mail beyond that point. It’s a variation of the same kinds of mails I’ve been receiving since the wedding three weeks ago. I pause at the door to his study, sounds of a woman riding on throes of orgasms, filters through the open crack. What would people say if they saw a woman with her legs spread out, in between her legs, my husband of a few days, sliding in and out of her? He keeps his dark eyes on me, bringing his signature scotch to his lips. I can’t take this anymore. How could he do this?? How did I end up with a man like this?? “Get out of my house!” I snap, The woman shrieks, scrambling to cover herself up with pieces of clothing. I grit my teeth hard. “She’s my guest.” “Take your guests elsewhere. This is not a whorehouse.” I snap, gritting my teeth so hard it feels like my jaw would crack. “Would you do what they do?” “W-what?” He leans forward, I keep my eyes above his waistline, specifically on the middle of his forehead. “Would you, instead of them, suck my cock?” His accent makes the word sound even dirtier than usual. Isaac's family demanded a husband, he delivered and now his life is a mess. A marriage on paper, a disaster in practice. Isaac Valentine needed a husband, not for love. And he met the last man he would ever choose, Ivan Romanov. The deal is clean. Everyone wins. Until it isn't. After all, what's more dangerous than a marriage of convenience? Real feelings with an expiration date.

To Willa Fowler, I'm not her husband, but rather, a non-performing asset that awaits her handling. When I fall sick and ask her for help, she grows impatient with me. "This is a low-tier problem that you should be dealing with on your own. There's no need to report to me about it." When I burst into tears from an emotional breakdown, she berates me, "If you lose control of your emotions, you'll just show everyone else the vulnerability in our alliance. Next time, I'll have the PR team teach you how to manage your emotions." Even when I call her for help after getting into a car crash, she doesn't hesitate to hang up on me. "Everything concerning you isn't important enough for me to suspend the hundred-billion-dollar transaction I'm performing right now." I spend seven days in the ICU getting my life saved afterward. On the first day of getting home, I witness Willa bending down to gently coax another young man into taking his medication. She opens her mouth in an attempt to explain the situation to me. But I just chuckle bitterly before handing over the paperwork I've already prepared in advance to her. This time, I sound exactly like her. "Ms. Fowler, regarding our marriage project, after a comprehension evaluation, the return on the investment is deemed too low. Therefore, I'd like to officially propose a termination on this project. "This is the divorce agreement. Please leave your signature here."

He betrayed me w‌ith my own stepsi⁠ster. Big mistake. I though‍t my ma‍rriage to James was my forever—a sac⁠red vow built on love and l‌oyalty—until I‌ caught hi‍m tangle‌d in our sheets with Mel, the woman I once trusted most.‍ T‍hat betrayal shattered my world into a thousand‌ jag⁠ged pieces and left me gasping fo‌r breath‍. Broken, hu‍miliated, and cast out, I cl⁠ung‍ to the only thi⁠ng left: the secre‌t of a tiny life growing in⁠si⁠de me‌, a miracle after⁠ years o‍f h‍eartache. Then Silas Truman, a powerful billionaire, stepped in‌t‍o my sh‌attered wo‌rld w‌ith an‍ offer I couldn’t refuse—a marriage contract p‍ro⁠mising str‌ength‌, security, an‌d a ch⁠ance to re‍build from the ashes. De‌sperate, I took it. Three y‌ears later⁠, I returned‍ not the broken girl I was, b‍ut a woman who comman‌ds an empire. But life’‍s crue‍l twist s‍truck again when Silas lost his memory in an accident, erasing everyth⁠ing we built toge‌t⁠her. Now, with his empire in my hands, I face James’s shadow and a choice I never ex‍pected—betw‌een the past t⁠hat almost destroyed me and‍ a future I never saw coming. ⁠The qu‍estion is, which path will I choose when everyt‍hing hangs in the balance?

Five years ago, he had abandoned her, betrayed her, destroyed her company when she had trusted him and needed him the most. Five years later, Evelyn was back for revenge. She would return everything he had done to her tenfold, and to do that, she needed to live in the same house with him again. “Ex-husband, let's sign a marriage contract again!” Evelyn demanded after barging into her ex-husband's party. “Okay.” **** She had sworn to frustrate and destroy his life as they live under the same roof but who can tell Evelyn why everything was different from what she had expected? Who was this man cajoling her every request? Why is her ex-husband who’s supposed to be an enemy looking at her dotingly? Ex-husband, this was supposed to be a fierce revenge battle, not a love battle!