Three Years Contract Marriage With The Billionaire Novels & Stories

“Psychopath is dramatic.” “You kidnapped me.” “Fair point.” Instead of responding further, he slid a document toward me. “Sign it.” I glance down. A Three-Year Marriage Contract. He wants me to marry him? …You cannot be serious. “A contract marriage,” he said casually. “You marry me tomorrow. Three years later, you walk away free.” “You’re insane,” “No.” His voice stayed quiet. “Insane men act without purpose.” “Marriage?” I let out a disbelieving laugh. “You kidnap women and force them to marry you?”

She still remembered Ella’s wide eyes when she said it. “You what? You married a billionaire under contract?” Sophie had laughed at the disbelief, sipping her wine and brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Yes. No ceremony, no rings. Just ink on a page and signatures.” Ella’s jaw had dropped. “Wait, wait Sophie, who is he?” “His name is Carson O’Connell . He needed a wife for some mmm complicated corporate reasons. And I needed the money for my mum’s hospital bill, Sophie said felling a little bit sad

"And your marriage contract had one very specific clause." Lucian frowned. "The heir clause?" Gregory Winslow leaned forward. "Yes. It's year three, Lucian. That clause states that before the fourth year, an heir must be produced. No child means the marriage dissolves—and both our families lose everything we've built." Caliste raised an eyebrow. "Lose everything? Isn't that a little dramatic?" Her father glared. "It's not a joke, Caliste. The Velmores and Winslows joined for global control of trade and investment. If this marriage falls apart, dozens of partnerships collapse."

The number hung in the air between us. "The marriage contract is for three years minimum," my father explained. "Play the role of Julian Blackwood's wife, attend the necessary events, maintain appearances. After three years, you can divorce him and walk away with three million dollars. Tax-free. Enough to start whatever life you want, anywhere in the world." I stared at the folder, my mind racing. Three million dollars. That was freedom. Real freedom, not the scraping, desperate kind I had been planning. With that money, I could go to graduate school, start a business, and never depend on anyone again.

No apology. “Why?” I whispered. “Ten thousand dollars…how can I ever repay you?” “I don’t want your money,” he said, gaze locked on mine, unflinching. Then he leaned closer. “I want you to marry me.” The words hit like a blow. My chair scraped the floor as I jolted back. “What? You’re…crazy.” “A contract marriage,” he said, calm. “Twelve months. Legal. Businesslike. You’ll receive fifty thousand dollars per month during the agreement.”

I smiled happily inwardly and muttered to myself, “I really want to go back and punch my past self a few times to wake her up. This is clearly an extremely profitable deal! No, that’s not right! This is a super high-profit deal where money makes more money!” Looking at the compensation I would receive after three years of a contractual marriage, one billion dollars, I decisively signed my name without hesitation. Leo, standing beside me, looked both shocked and incredulous. He probably hadn’t expected me to agree so quickly, so he asked again. “You really read all the terms?” I put the pen down, looked at him with confusion, and shrugged. “Of course. Is there a problem?” Leo still seemed sur

‎He placed them on the table between them. ‎Her heart skipped. ‎“What is this?” she asked softly. ‎“A contract,” he replied. ‎The word felt heavy. ‎“A contract?” she repeated. ‎“Yes.” ‎He folded his hands together. ‎“Our marriage is not based on love. You understand that, right?” ‎Ava swallowed. ‎She knew this was a business marriage. ‎She knew he did not love her. ‎But hearing him say it still hurt. ‎“Yes,” she whispered.

For a while, we moved through the crowd in silence. Then I finally broke. “I was married to him three years ago.” Fiona stopped so abruptly that I had to turn around. Her eyes widened. “Married?” I nodded slowly. “What happened?” I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. “It was a contract marriage. I was supposed to get paid after one hundred days.” She stared at me as though I'd just told her the most unbelievable thing in the world. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” I shook my head. “It wasn’t an easy decision, Fiona. I needed the money for my brother’s surgery, so I accepted.”

I said. I raised my right hand. My fingers were cold and weak, but I didn't hesitate. I pulled the thin silver wedding band off my left ring finger,the simple band I had worn for three long years. I held it out to him in my palm. Dillian looked down at the ring, his brow tight. "What are you doing?" "Our three-year contract is over, Dillian," I said. "Your grandfather got his quiet marriage, and my family got their debts paid. The three years are up today."