The Garment Bag Bride
By @john1208
I never planned on waking up zipped inside a breathable, temperature-controlled garment bag at thirty thousand feet. I also didn't plan on Tycho Renz - the tyrannical, sleep-deprived CEO of the city's most vicious fashion house - unzipping me and demanding I sign a marriage contract to repel his horde of litigious, gold-digging ex-fiancées. As a lowly pattern drafter, I should have run. As a quietly ruthless opportunist, I signed. The rules were simple: act like his adoring wife, secretly redesign his failing winter line to save the company, and never mistake his desperate need to sleep next to me for affection. Tycho is a chronic insomniac who only drops off when I'm in his bed. But the joke is on him. I recently uncovered encrypted sketches left by my own erased memory, proving I deliberately shipped myself to him in that bag to corner him into this marriage. My scheme was flawless - until my abusive, parasitic relatives finally tracked me down, and my cold, calculating boss decided to breach our contract by going absolutely feral to protect me. Just how unhinged is my fake husband willing to get?
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The Honeypot Husband
By @john1208
I hate my boss, Bramson Klerk. The man is a walking spreadsheet with the emotional depth of a puddle, and we’ve spent three years screaming at each other over server budgets. So when a courier hands me a live, snapping Venus flytrap with a diamond ring and a marriage contract attached to its teeth, I assume it’s a threat. Instead, my terrifying rival needs a wife to unlock a multibillion-dollar inheritance left by his eccentric father. The rules? Live together, pretend to be in love, and absolutely no catching feelings. I only sign because I want a cut of the cash to fund my own tech startup. But moving into Bramson's glass penthouse reveals two massive problems. One, the inheritance isn't a gift; it's a digital honeypot designed to trigger a hostile takeover, forcing me to use my secret hacking skills to dismantle his own family's trap. Two, my icy boss hasn't slept a full night in years - unless I'm sitting right next to him. As accidental naps turn into sharing a bed, his cold boundaries melt into a fierce, suffocating jealousy. But when he catches me crying over our contract's expiration date, will he let me go, or burn down his own empire to keep me?
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