The Art of Domestic Warfare
By @john1208
I, Polina Markova, have a simple life philosophy: everything, and everyone, is just a problem of inefficient routing. So when the impossibly wealthy Kárász family offered to pay off my late father's debts and secure his priceless antiquarian book collection in exchange for me marrying their stoic heir, Adorjan, I saw it as a straightforward logistics deal. I get the books, he gets a wife-shaped placeholder to placate his dying grandfather. Easy. Except the Kárász family isn't just a corporation; it's a black hole of dysfunction. The sister-in-law, Eszter, plots my social demise with the subtlety of a freight train derailment. My new 'husband' regards me with the warmth of a refrigerated shipping container. And the family matriarch, Zsofia, watches it all with the serene smile of someone who knows exactly where all the skeletons are buried. They think I'm just some quiet, mousy bookworm. They don't realize that my brain is a supercomputer built for one thing: creating brutally elegant systems out of chaos. And this family is the most chaotic system I've ever seen. Can I streamline these people into oblivion and win my real prize before the old patriarch's will is read?
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