Story Contract Novels & Stories

Goal-orientated and very focused. Someone who had every step of her work planned out in a way that it would go her way without failure. 'I'm so happy I accepted her request. This is the most relaxed I've ever been while working under any cooperation,' he thought to himself before addressing Drake's offer. "If it's okay, then yes, please do. I'll draft the contract for them, and you can go through it as soon as possible," he noted. "I'll reach out to them immediately; trust me, with such a well-written program and storyline, they definitely won't reject the offer," he assured.

He wondered what led to these transactions and this huge sums. As he scrolled further, he also saw that the land at the south side which had been handed to Richard by his grandfather—that was planned to be constructed as a resort—its ownership was handed to Kate White. All these transactions were questionable to him because if she was given all this, why the need for the suicide? And what was the reason for the Richard he knew, who had always prioritized the south side project, to let it go? And at the last side of the mail, Kate White had a character/behavioral disorder.

"TMZ. They have a story about us. About the contract." My stomach dropped. "What?" "Someone leaked the details. The terms, the timeline, the payments. All of it." He sat up, running a hand through his hair. "It's going to break in an hour. We need to get ahead of it." "How? How do we get ahead of the truth?" He looked at me, and something fierce and determined blazed in his eyes. "We tell our own story. Before they can tell it for us." "What story?"

She never knew which Will she would get. ​ The paper on the table turned out to be a contract. ​ *I, Emma Skye Wells, being of sound mind and body, and under no duress of any kind, do hereby submit myself to William Anderson Stewart. For a period of six (6) months, beginning on the undersigned date, I shall be available to him upon his request within reason. I shall be available to him for social events, family gatherings, and sexual encounters as he demands. For a period of six (6) months, I shall fully submit to his requests. During this period, neither party shall be involved with another person.*

Something that started as shock and moved quickly into something else entirely. Their whole marriage. The love story the entire office whispered about. The man who left early every day to go home to his wife. The woman who got three months of absence without a single question asked. All of it. Built on a contract. She looked at the document in her hands. And she took out her phone. The story broke at six in the evening. By seven it was everywhere. By eight the Sterling name was trending and every entertainment and business news outlet had their own version of the headline. Contract marriage. Arranged union. CEO’s secret agreement. The details were all there because Cassia had sent the full d

The contract Roman and I signed was clear—this arrangement had to remain between us. But I wasn’t just here to catch up with Sydney. This meeting was strategic. She would help me craft the believable story Roman and I had agreed upon—the version of events we’d present to my old college group and, eventually, the media. Once Roman and I officially announced our engagement, there’d be parties to attend, interviews to give, and photoshoots for magazines.

She couldn't tell. "The skillet will not be necessary," he said in a low voice. "I keep my promises, Mira. You'll learn that about me, for better or worse." He took the chair opposite hers at her father's kitchen table-the only piece of furniture she'd salvaged from the house-and spread the contract across its cracked laminate surface. It was ten pages long, crammed with legalese, with a single blank line at the bottom, awaiting her signature. Mira sat across from him, the envelope still open on the table, the ghosts of her father's secrets and her own desperate future pressing in on all sides.

He sounds like Leyla when she doesn’t get her way. I ignore him and pick up the contract I’ve printed out, eyes scanning the text with forced detachment. “So … point one — I pretend to be your girlfriend. Publicly starting mid-March,” I say. We have to wait for Leyla to finish her first batch of chemo.

Luckily for me, it was a soft and comfortable bed, just as I like it. "Huh!" I heaved a sigh of relief and sat on the bed as I heard my phone beeped a call. I located the phone and answered the call. I placed it on my ear to receive the voice of the caller. "Hello mam! I'm in" I informed the caller. "Good! Daphne, remember, you have 30 days to eliminate him. Don't let me down" the caller reminded me of our contract. "Yes mam, I won't fail you. He'd be dead sooner than you expect" I gave my reply and she ended the call immediately.

Kelvin Mckenna said without looking at her, “This is not going to be done. You can be my secretary or my mistress, but you can't be both. Let's choose." Layla Larson paused, her nimble fingers hovering over the stack of classified papers searching for the contract he'd asked for... His request was out of the sky, and she felt Her breathing seemed to stop. Choose, he said. It's this or that. Kelvin always said exactly what he thought and remembered what he said.