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Desperate times calls for Desperate Measures was a phrase Janelle fully got to understand when financial challenges forced her to get into a contract Marriage with a stranger she never saw coming. Janelle Hughes was a very Ambitious Investigative journalist willing and determined to get to the highest level of her job, while still living her very soft life, but obviously life had more in store for her when her father’s business begins to decline rapidly, with a bedridden mother due for urgent Surgery and an heavily broken heart from being betrayed by her fiancé and bestfriend, She was left no choice than to get married on contract to the delectable Adil Carter. From pretending to be a couple to managing their own secrets, will their hearts play by the rule?! Or will they find out that Love has a way of rewriting contracts?! This is the chronicles of a Contract Marriage, an heartwarming tale of love, tears and laughter and the unpredictable turns that Life and Marriage can take.

After being betrayed by her sister and boyfriend, Barbara Calvin decided to nurse her wound and vow not to fall in love but then again, she had to attend a ball, the only option is renting a boyfriend. She ended up renting a cold-hearted CEO, whom she accidentally punched because he reminded her of her predicament. CEO Dante, who the city refers to as a woman hater, and his slogan is punishing any offender, even for the slightest thing they do to him. Will he reciprocate the love she had for him when she start falling in love with him even without knowing his true identity? After finding out the truth, will she still love him or move on with her life?

On the fateful day my asthma struck, Lucas was with his first love, Ariana, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing on the horizon.  He clutched my life-saving medicine, a lifeline that would soon slip through his fingers.  As I lay trapped in the shadows, I witnessed his desperation, his frantic calls echoing in the void when he discovered the shocking news of my pregnancy.  In that moment, everything changed. From that day forward, he became the guardian at my grave, a silent testament to a love that transcended even death.

In my previous life, I had been suffering from a terminal illness when I won the lottery.  To my shock, Mommy advised me to forgo treatment and leave the winnings to my younger brother, David, to use for his marriage.  I refused to become an accessory to his future, so, behind my parents’ backs, I donated every bit of it to an orphanage.  When they found out, they were furious. They called me a heartless, ungrateful wretch.  After severing ties with me, they abandoned me at the hospital. On David's birthday, they gathered as a family and celebrated him while I was left to die in the hospital, utterly alone. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day I had won the lottery.  Recalling the pain and betrayal of my past life, I resolved to leave my parents that very day.  But to my surprise, when I returned home, they had completely changed.  They doted on me and showered me with affection.

After the birth of our daughter, my husband left for a dangerous mission. My in-laws' initial joy soured, and they regarded my baby with disdain. Maria, my mother-in-law, was particularly scornful. In a rare show of familial love, my father-in-law Lincoln took my daughter out for a playdate. I thought he had finally grown fond of her, only for him to strike me the moment he returned. "How dare you betray my son! I'll kill you!" "Yes! Beat that loose woman to death together with that brat!" Shifting my gaze from the report on the floor to my furious father-in-law, I pulled out several photos—my naked mother-in-law Maria, caught with another man. "Let's see who the real loose woman is!"

I was raised to believe that love meant endurance. That if I loved him enough, I could survive anything. For seven years, I was stationed at the border—alone, bleeding, freezing, nearly dying more times than I can count. Every transfer request I submitted was denied. Every time I asked why, I was told the same thing: the family needed me. The alliance came first. Others needed protection more than I did. What I didn’t know was this— Every sacrifice I made was approved by the man who claimed to love me. Adrian Holt, the Don who raised me, protected me, promised I would be his Donna one day… He was the one signing my name away year after year. He chose widows. He chose alliances. He chose power. And he chose for me—without ever asking. Because he was certain of one thing: That no matter what he did, I would never leave him. He believed love meant I would understand. That loyalty meant silence. That I would forgive anything—as long as he said he loved me. So when I finally walked away, I didn’t argue. I didn’t beg. I disappeared. And that was the moment his world collapsed. Now he’s tearing through cities, alliances, and his own sanity trying to find me— Too late realizing that love is not sacrifice when only one person bleeds. This is not a story about redemption. It’s a story about what happens after you lose the woman who endured everything… And finally chose herself.

At my coming-of-age party, Dad told me to choose one of the three boys I had grown up with to marry into the family. The first to step back was my childhood friend, the boy who had grown up with me in the orphanage. The second was the bodyguard’s son, who had once taken three knife wounds for me. He shook his head without hesitation. As for the man I was supposed to marry through a family alliance, the same man who had held me just yesterday and promised he would never marry anyone but me, he looked at me with open ridicule. “Mr. Deen, isn’t this a bit too much? Everyone knows Emma was kidnapped for more than ten years. Those kidnappers were insane. Who knows what they might’ve done? I’m not about to marry damaged goods. If you’re really serious about an alliance, why not marry your other daughter, Isabella, to me instead? Someone like Emma is only suited for men who live in the shadows.” He glanced around the room, then pulled a boy from the corner—a quiet young man who had been standing there with his head lowered. Together with the other two, he laughed as they shoved me straight into the boy’s arms. “What a perfect match!” one of them jeered. “The used goods and a bastard son!” What was supposed to be a grand ceremony to choose my husband turned into a public humiliation for me alone. Later, they told me the reason they had done it was all part of a little game with Isabella. “As long as Bella is happy, we can honor our promises to you afterward.” They all assumed I would do what I had always done before—swallow the humiliation and shamelessly continue following them around. However, this time, I didn’t want to humiliate myself anymore, because I was indeed getting married, and the groom was the very man they pushed into my arms earlier that night. As for Isabella and their little game, I wasn’t playing along anymore.

"We are not related by blood, there is nothing wrong in what we are doing." He assured her. "What if Dad and Mom find out?" She asked. "That's why we have to keep it a secret," he said, caressing her cheeks as their lips locked. Camilla falls in love with her stepbrother, Andrew who is one year older than her. He is twenty-one years old while she is twenty. Everything about him drives her crazy. Things seem to be perfect as their little secret is kept hidden not until Derek, Andrew's best friend, gets their shady acts on tape and threatens her with it. Is it advisable to screw two best friends? Will Andrew believe she was only doing him a favor?

John Garnett's secretary fed me to the dogs on my own birthday. I called his number endlessly to call for help, only for him to block my number immediately, as he fooled around with his secretary at the presidential suite in broad daylight. All I felt was agony as I was ripped into countless little pieces, still holding on to the black rose seeds he had given me when we were younger. That was not thrilling enough for the secretary, however, she buried me in the backyard of John' villa, intent on making my perished soul watch their bedroom activities. It was not until rain poured a month later, and a cluster of black roses suddenly grew in the backyard. "Where's Claire? I was just scaring her with the dogs—did she run away just to spite me?"

On a trip to Chicily, my wife, Rosa Stone, and her first love, Jack Cud, insisted on feeding wild, starving wolves. I simply reminded them, "You might attract more hungry wolves." They turned on me, calling me a heartless monster. In the end, I was right. A pack of wolves really did show up. They circled the car, watching us hungrily. Jack was bitten by one. To my surprise, Rosa kicked me out of the car, yelling, "Jack is hurt! He needs to be taken to the hospital! Distract the wolves, I'll come back for you!" I watched them drive away, leaving me behind, surrounded by hungry wolves closing in from all sides. My heart sank. But, Rosa forgot one thing—I was a great Wolvesmith.