The Marriage Effect Novels & Stories

“I was hurt, too.” “Well, not the way I feel. If you can cheat on someone—” “Damn you!” She pushed me on my chest, causing me to wrap my arms around her. “I am not cheating on Keene! I married him because that was the only way I could help him.” “But you are still married, Westley. That’s the truth. Marriage is not just a piece of paper. It’s sacred. And you made a bow, remember? To have and to hold, for this day forward, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health—’“

Chapter Eighteen: A Question Sharper Than a Blade Emma Volkov Marriage, I learned, is a word that sounds different in rooms where men decide wars. It isn’t romantic there. It isn’t soft. It’s strategic, sharpened, measured by what it costs and what it secures. I’d heard it all my life spoken like a contract, like a weapon wrapped in silk. My mother used to say that love and power rarely shared a table—but when they did, someone always paid.

"And you think a wedding fixes that?" "I think a wedding closes certain doors," he said. "It's not a fix. It's a position..... Once we're married, the narrative changes. The story isn't will she, won't she anymore. The story is done." He held my gaze. "Richard can't use uncertainty as leverage. Zara has nothing to insert herself into....." I pressed my hand to my knee "You're describing a marriage as a legal strategy," I said.

The day I proved to myself that marriage could work without emotions attached, and the day that the name Global Masters hit the screens of every TV and smartphone across the globe in a massive live coverage of a wedding that would shake the city. The day where assumptions are proved wrong and preconceived notions are boshed. The day where those who thought that marriage was the one thing out of everything I just wouldn't be able to do would shed tears of realisation. The moment no one had been waiting for, but everyone will be shocked to see. The D-day where it wasn't men, but money that stormed the beaches of Normandy...

I accept out of spite, drinking it while Lucien works on his laptop like I'm not there. Thirty minutes in, I break the silence. "How many couples will be there?" "Eight, including us." "Do they all have real marriages?" His fingers pause on the keyboard. "Define real." "Marriages that started without contracts." "Most marriages are contracts, Mara. Some are just more honest about it." "That's bleak." "That's reality." He returns to typing. "James and Victoria Worthington married to merge family fortunes. Oliver Grant married his assistant to avoid a sexual harassment lawsuit. The Pattersons have an arrangement where he keeps a mistress and she keeps his credit cards."

“Unless it’s a miracle lottery win, I don’t think anything can fix this.” Emma leaned forward, voice dropping. “There’s this new government program called the One-Year Marriage Incentive Scheme. Couples who sign a legal one-year marriage contract and live together get a huge one-time payment — enough to cover major medical bills and clear heavy debts. After twelve months, you can walk away free.” Abby froze. “Marry a stranger for money?”

Instead, I was met with nods and perfunctory smiles that only deepened the chasm within me. At one table, I overheard a conversation about future business ventures and the strategic advantages that my marriage would supposedly bring. Their words were cold, impersonal, and it struck me how my personal happiness had become a mere footnote in a grand corporate strategy. Every detail of the wedding, from the floral arrangements to the seating charts, was dictated by those who valued power over individual desire. In that moment, I felt the sting of betrayal all over again—the bitter realization that I was a commodity to be traded, a means to an end rather than a person with hopes and dreams.

"If he pulls the blanket at night, buy two." "Guys, this is too pessimistic," I complained. "It's realistic, my dear. Marriage isn't just romance. It's also logistics." Rosa laughed, shaking her head. "Don't listen to them, Alice. Marriage is love, yes. But it's also choosing the same person every day, even when they snore, even when they forget your anniversary, even when they leave the wet towel on the bed." "Marco doesn't snore," I defended. "Yet," Teresa said with a mischievous smile.

“I can give you the east-coast land. On one condition.” “Register our marriage.” I blinked. “Does that mean our previous contract doesn’t count anymore?” He brushed his fingertips across my lips. “We are a de facto married couple. What’s mine is yours.” The small sting on my lip made me lick it without thinking. His eyes darkened instantly. I thought for a moment and shook my head. “I only want the land.” Money in my pocket belonged to me. Money locked inside a marriage did not. Especially not in a bizarre novel world like this one.