Sickly Husband's Contractual Wife Novels & Stories

“I can’t believe this.” “Believe it.” I leaned back, watching as she kept scanning through. Then, suddenly— “Oh, come on.” She let out a groan. “‘If the contract wife finds herself in any distressing situation outside this residence, she is expected to call the contract husband before any other person, regardless of the nature of the emergency.’” My tone was flat. “That’s non-negotiable.” She folded her arms. “So if I trip and break my nose, I should call you before an ambulance?”

You are a sloppy kisser, my doll! I roll my eyes. First ‘buttercup’ now ‘doll’. Me: ‘Listen! We have to annul this marriage! I do not remember anything. This can’t be legal.’ Hubby: ‘uhmm actually it is legal. Read the contract, then we can talk. Gotta go! I have things to do. Life to live.’ Hubby: By the way, You will get the money in an hour. I do get the money in an hour. Idea of staying married doesn’t seem bad anymore.

Franco chuckled—at me, of course. "I’m not joking!" I snapped, glaring at him. "Yeah, yeah! You were with your husband. So, who’s your husband?" Anger bubbled up inside me at his question. Husband. I shouldn’t have a husband because I didn’t want to marry him. But we had a marriage contract, and I… I was indeed married to him. "My husband is—"

she asked, sounding like a mother trying to chastise her child. I dropped my gaze to the floor of the car, keeping away from breaking under her stare. “I don’t think that he wants me to do that,” Her gaze narrowed, her nose scrunched as she gave me her best mocking glare, “Sasha, he is your husband…” “Contract,” I cut in. She rolled her eyes, “he is your contract husband. That means that when both of you have issues. You will have to do the most logical thing ever,”

"No, Lulu. I won't let you meet Damien again." "You can't forbid me." "I'm your husband." "It's just a contract!" The words came out before I could stop them. The room suddenly felt very silent. "Contract," he repeated softly. I bit my lip. I had hurt him. I could see it from the way he clenched his fists at his sides, but I couldn't take back my words. Because it was the truth. This marriage was just a contract. Nothing more. "Then handle your own problem. I don't care," he said.

“And you volunteered to be his bride?” “In the end, yes. Derrick kept rejecting a lot of the girls Helen suggested and didn’t bother to look for a partner on his own. Every other girl Helen suggested he seemed to like took one look at the stupid contract and took off. Like, according to the contract, the woman needed to be a stay-at home wife and completely devote herself to him, but she wouldn’t be compensated for it at all. He won’t love her, won’t have sex with her, won’t even acknowledge her as his wife, and the only money she’ll ever get are the funds to maintain his home. And this had to go on for three years. Only after three years will the girl get the opportunity to even consider di

In answer he tilted his head in a nod. I looked at the papers in his hand. “Can I read it?” A flash of something darkened his eyes but finally he gave me a nod. He brought the papers to me. As I went through the papers, each word was like an anvil waiting to be dropped on my head It was a standard marriage contract except the stipulations. I will be the Sokolov Property. I will pay for whatever I had done in the past by following their each and every demand. Sexually, physically and emotionally I'll be my husband’s to toy with. Whatever he wanted I’ll have to do. Unless, I want to forfeit and want out. And the only way out will be death.

Chapter 6: The Contract 3/365 VICKY. I opened my eyes. A new day. Just yesterday, I found out my husband was cheating on me with my sister. She was pregnant. For him. And no, he didn’t apologize. Instead, he threw me out like trash. And my dear sister? She didn’t even flinch. But the real plot twist? I signed a contract marriage with a billionaire. That explains why I woke up in a penthouse this morning.

In answer he tilted his head in a nod. I looked at the papers in his hand. “Can I read it?” A flash of something darkened his eyes but finally he gave me a nod. He brought the papers to me. As I went through the papers, each word was like an anvil waiting to be dropped on my head It was a standard marriage contract except the stipulations. I will be the Sokolov Property. I will pay for whatever I had done in the past by following their each and every demand. Sexually, physically and emotionally I'll be my husband’s to toy with. Whatever he wanted I’ll have to do. Unless, I want to forfeit and want out. And the only way out will be death.