My wealthy parents demanded I marry to inherit the family business, so I chose a “country girl” to spite them. But soon, I discovered she was hiding a powerful secret.
I’ll admit it. I’m not proud of how I started all this. I wasn’t looking for love, not even close. I just wanted to get back at my parents.
You see, I’ve always lived the way I wanted, with no strings. Parties, fast cars, expensive vacations. And why not? My family was wealthy, and I knew I’d inherit my father’s business one day.
A serious young man | Source: Pexels
But then my parents sat me down for “the talk.”
“Listen, Alex,” my father said, leaning forward like he was discussing a business deal. “Your mother and I feel it’s time you settle down.”
“Settle down?” I scoffed, leaning back with a smirk. “You mean get married?”
“Precisely,” he said with a nod, not breaking eye contact. “You’re almost 30. If you want the company, we need to see some commitment. That means a wife, a family. You can’t run a business like this alone.”
A serious man talking to his son | Source: Midjourney
My mother chimed in, shaking her head. “Your father worked his entire life for this, Alex. We can’t trust the future of the business to someone who treats life like a party.”
I was fuming. They wanted a marriage, so I’d give them one. If they thought they could push me around, I’d prove them wrong. I’d find someone who’d make them question their own demands.
And that’s when I met Mary.
A country woman | Source: Pexels
Mary wasn’t from the usual places where I met women. I found her volunteering at a quiet charity event. She looked modest, maybe even shy, with a simple dress and her hair tied back. Nothing flashy, no designer clothes, just calm and… real.
When I introduced myself, she just nodded and said, “Nice to meet you, Alex.” She barely looked at me, like she wasn’t impressed at all.
A couple meeting for the first time | Source: Midjourney
“So, uh, where are you from, Mary?” I asked, trying to gauge her story.
“Oh, I’m just from a small town,” she replied with a polite smile. “Nothing fancy.” Her voice was soft, and her eyes seemed guarded.
Perfect. Just perfect.
“So, Mary,” I began, cutting right to the chase. “How do you feel about marriage?”
She raised an eyebrow, looking surprised. “Excuse me?”
“I know it sounds strange,” I said, forcing a confident smile. “But I’m looking for someone to marry. I… have my reasons. But you will need to pass several ‘tests’ first.”
A black and white photo of a serious man | Source: Pexels
Mary looked at me, expression unreadable. Then she laughed, surprising me. “Well, isn’t that funny,” she said, her eyes gleaming with something I couldn’t place. “I was just thinking I could use a little ‘marriage’ myself.”
“Really?” I said, surprised. “So, is it a deal?”
Mary studied me, then shrugged. “Alright, Alex. But you have to promise one thing.”
A young woman talking to a man at a charitable event | Source: Midjourney
“What’s that?”
“No questions about my past, and I’ll keep it simple. Just a girl from a small town, that’s all they need to know. You good with that?”
I grinned, hardly believing my luck. “Perfect.”
When I introduced Mary to my parents, they were horrified. My mother’s eyebrows shot up as she took in Mary’s plain dress and quiet demeanor.
A shocked middle-aged woman | Source: Pexels
“Oh… Mary, is it?” Mom said, trying to mask her disapproval with a tight smile.
Dad’s frown deepened. “Alex, this… this isn’t exactly what we had in mind.”
“Well, you wanted me to settle down,” I replied, unable to hide my grin. “And Mary’s perfect for me. She’s calm, humble, and doesn’t care about all this fancy stuff.”
A smiling relaxed man | Source: Pexels
Mary was pulling it off. Every time she answered politely, every time she acted uncertain around our “society talk,” I knew my parents were dying inside.
But then… something about her stayed a mystery. She was perfect for my plan, yet every so often, I’d catch a look in her eye, something almost… amused.
“Are you sure this is what you want, Alex?” she’d asked me once after dinner with my parents.
A concerned woman talking to a man at a dinner party | Source: Midjourney
“More than ever,” I said, laughing. “They’re horrified, Mary. This is working.”
“Well,” she said, her voice soft, almost too soft. “Glad I could help.”
I was so busy watching my parents’ reactions that I didn’t look too closely at Mary’s. Not yet, anyway.
An arrogant young man at a dinner table | Source: Midjourney
The night of the charity ball finally arrived. My parents had spared no expense: a grand hall glittered with chandeliers, tables lined with white silk cloths, and silverware that could feed a small country.
Mary walked in beside me, her simple dress and quiet elegance making her look out of place among the sequins and high heels around her. Exactly what I’d wanted.
A woman in a simple dress | Source: Pexels
“Just remember,” I whispered, leaning close to her. “Tonight’s the final test.”
She looked up at me, her expression unreadable. “I know the drill.”
As the night went on, I stayed close to her, watching as she spoke softly, smiled politely, and never called attention to herself. My parents threw her a few concerned glances now and then, but I could tell they were hoping she’d just blend into the background.
People at a charity event | Source: Freepik
Then, out of nowhere, the mayor himself approached us, his face breaking into a broad smile.
“Mary! I’m delighted to see you here!” he exclaimed, reaching out to shake her hand.
My parents’ jaws nearly hit the floor. I blinked, trying to make sense of it. The mayor knew Mary?
Mary’s smile was polite, but I noticed her discomfort. “Good to see you too, Mayor,” she replied, a little stiffly.
A woman talking to the Mayor of the city | Source: Midjourney
“You know, everyone’s still talking about that children’s hospital project you funded,” the mayor continued. “Your family’s contributions are still making a difference.”
Mary nodded. “I’m glad to hear that. We just want to help where we can.”
The mayor finally moved on, leaving us in stunned silence. My mother was the first to break it, looking at me with wide eyes. “Alex… what was that about?”
A skeptical woman at an event | Source: Midjourney
Before I could respond, Jack, an old family friend, walked over with an astonished expression. “Mary! It’s been ages since I last saw you. I didn’t know you were back in town.”
Mary forced a small laugh. “I, uh, didn’t exactly announce it. I came back for my… wedding,” she said.
Jack turned to me, his face half-amused, half-incredulous. “Alex, you’re marrying Mary the Charity Princess? Her family’s one of the largest philanthropists in the state!”
An amused man at a charity event | Source: Midjourney
My mouth went dry. Charity Princess. I’d heard the name, of course. Everyone had. But I had never bothered to meet her or even look her up.
The moment we could slip away from my parents’ glares, I pulled Mary aside to a quiet corner. “So… Charity Princess?” I asked, crossing my arms.
She sighed, glancing away. “Yes. My family owns the biggest charity fund. They run in these circles, but I don’t. I’ve been avoiding all this for years.”
An awkward woman talking to a man | Source: Midjourney
I ran a hand through my hair, still trying to wrap my head around it. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because,” she said slowly, “it’s the same reason you didn’t tell me you wanted a ‘fake’ marriage to spite your parents. I have my own reasons, Alex.”
“You knew this was fake all along?” I asked, trying to sound calm, but my voice gave me away.
A shocked man in a suit | Source: Freepik
She took a deep breath. “I got sick of my parents pushing me to marry someone for status. I wanted my own life, without all the expectations. When you came along, I figured I could help you and solve my own problem at the same time.”
“Let me get this straight,” I said, still amazed. “You agreed to this whole thing because you’re trying to escape your family’s expectations, just like I am?”
Mary nodded. “Guess that’s one thing we have in common.”
A young man talking to a woman at an event | Source: Midjourney
I stared at her, realizing for the first time how much I didn’t know about her. This wasn’t some naive “country girl” here to make my parents uncomfortable. She was intelligent, strong, and just as independent as I was. Maybe more.
My original plan suddenly felt childish. While I’d been playing games to annoy my parents, Mary had been quietly navigating a world she didn’t want to be part of, giving up her family’s wealth and influence to stand on her own two feet. She’d agreed to my ridiculous scheme just to win her freedom. I couldn’t help but respect her for that.
One evening, as we were going over some plans for the charity events my mother insisted we attend, I caught myself watching her. She looked up, catching my gaze. “What?”
A couple in love | Source: Midjourney
“I just… I guess I didn’t realize how strong you were,” I admitted, feeling surprisingly nervous. “You put up with all this, and you never once complained. You’ve done more than I would’ve in your position.”
Mary smiled, a little softer than I’d ever seen. “I’m not doing it for them,” she replied. “I’m doing it for me.”
a smiling young woman writing in her journal | Source: Midjourney
And in that moment, I realized my feelings had shifted. What started as a plan to shock my parents had become something else entirely. I respected and admired her, and, yes, I wanted to be with her for real.
“Mary,” I said slowly, “maybe it’s time we told them the truth.”
A couple holding hands | Source: Pexels
She nodded, understanding exactly what I meant. We weren’t just playing a game anymore.
The next day, we asked our parents to sit down with us. As we prepared to reveal everything, I felt a strange calm. I wasn’t worried about what they’d say. I just knew that, for once, I was ready to do things honestly and with Mary by my side.
A happy couple | Source: Pexels
Liked this story? Consider checking out this one: When a wealthy, emotionally distant man offers shelter to Lexi, a homeless woman, he’s drawn to her resilience. Their unlikely bond begins to grow — until the day he walks into his garage unannounced and discovers something disturbing. Who is Lexi really, and what is she hiding?
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
My Landlord Kicked Us Out for a Week So His Brother Could Stay In the House We Rent
When Nancy’s landlord demanded she and her three daughters vacate their rental home for a week, she thought life couldn’t get worse. But a surprise meeting with the landlord’s brother revealed a shocking betrayal.
Our house isn’t much, but it’s ours. The floors creak with every step, and the paint in the kitchen is peeling so badly that I’ve started calling it “abstract art.”
An old house | Source: Pexels
Still, it’s home. My daughters, Lily, Emma, and Sophie, make it feel that way, with their laughter and the little things they do that remind me why I push so hard.
Money was always on my mind. My job as a waitress barely covered our rent and bills. There was no cushion, no backup plan. If something went wrong, I didn’t know what we’d do.
The phone rang the next day while I was hanging out laundry to dry.
A woman hanging laundry | Source: Pexels
“Hello?” I answered, tucking the phone between my ear and shoulder.
“Nancy, it’s Peterson.”
His voice made my stomach tighten. “Oh, hi, Mr. Peterson. Is everything okay?”
“I need you out of the house for a week,” he said, as casually as if he were asking me to water his plants.
A woman talking on her phone | Source: Pexels
“What?” I froze, a pair of Sophie’s socks still in my hands.
“My brother’s coming to town, and he needs a place to stay. I told him he could use your house.”
I thought I must’ve misheard him. “Wait—this is my home. We have a lease!”
“Don’t start with that lease nonsense,” he snapped. “Remember when you were late on rent last month? I could’ve kicked you out then, but I didn’t. You owe me.”
An angry man talking on his phone | Source: Freepik
I gripped the phone tighter. “I was late by one day,” I said, my voice shaking. “My daughter was sick. I explained that to you—”
“Doesn’t matter,” he interrupted. “You’ve got till Friday to get out. Be gone, or maybe you won’t come back at all.”
“Mr. Peterson, please,” I said, trying to keep the desperation out of my voice. “I don’t have anywhere else to go.”
An expressive woman talking | Source: Pexels
“Not my problem,” he said coldly, and then the line went dead.
I sat on the couch, staring at the phone in my hand. My heart pounded in my ears, and I felt like I couldn’t breathe.
“Mama, what’s wrong?” Lily, my oldest, asked from the doorway, her eyes filled with concern.
I forced a smile. “Nothing, sweetheart. Go play with your sisters.”
A woman talking to her daughter | Source: Pexels
But it wasn’t nothing. I had no savings, no family nearby, and no way to fight back. If I stood up to Peterson, he’d find an excuse to evict us for good.
By Thursday night, I’d packed what little we could carry into a few bags. The girls were full of questions, but I didn’t know how to explain what was happening.
“We’re going on an adventure,” I told them, trying to sound cheerful.
A woman packing together with her daughter | Source: Pexels
“Is it far?” Sophie asked, clutching Mr. Floppy to her chest.
“Not too far,” I said, avoiding her gaze.
The hostel was worse than I expected. The room was tiny, barely big enough for the four of us, and the walls were so thin we could hear every cough, every creak, every loud voice from the other side.
A woman in a hostel | Source: Freepik
“Mama, it’s noisy,” Emma said, pressing her hands over her ears.
“I know, sweetie,” I said softly, stroking her hair.
Lily tried to distract her sisters by playing I Spy, but it didn’t work for long. Sophie’s little face crumpled, and tears started streaming down her cheeks.
“Where’s Mr. Floppy?” she cried, her voice breaking.
A crying child | Source: Pexels
My stomach sank. In the rush to leave, I’d forgotten her bunny.
“He’s still at home,” I said, my throat tightening.
“I can’t sleep without him!” Sophie sobbed, clutching my arm.
I wrapped her in my arms and held her close, whispering that it would be okay. But I knew it wasn’t okay.
A woman hugging her crying child | Source: Freepik
That night, as Sophie cried herself to sleep, I stared at the cracked ceiling, feeling completely helpless.
By the fourth night, Sophie’s crying hadn’t stopped. Every sob felt like a knife to my heart.
“Please, Mama,” she whispered, her voice raw. “I want Mr. Floppy.”
I held her tightly, rocking her back and forth.
A crying girl | Source: Pexels
I couldn’t take it anymore.
“I’ll get him,” I whispered, more to myself than to her.
I didn’t know how, but I had to try.
I parked down the street, my heart pounding as I stared at the house. What if they didn’t let me in? What if Mr. Peterson was there? But Sophie’s tear-streaked face wouldn’t leave my mind.
A thoughtful woman in front of her house | Source: Midjourney
I took a deep breath and walked up to the door, Sophie’s desperate “please” echoing in my ears. My knuckles rapped against the wood, and I held my breath.
The door opened, and a man I’d never seen before stood there. He was tall, with a kind face and sharp green eyes.
“Can I help you?” he asked, looking puzzled.
A man in front of his house | Source: Midjourney
“Hi,” I stammered. “I—I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m the tenant here. My daughter left her stuffed bunny inside, and I was hoping I could grab it.”
He blinked at me. “Wait. You live here?”
“Yes,” I said, feeling a lump form in my throat. “But Mr. Peterson told us we had to leave for a week because you were staying here.”
A sad woman in the doorway | Source: Pexels
His brows furrowed. “What? My brother said the place was empty and ready for me to move in for a bit.”
I couldn’t stop the words from spilling out. “It’s not empty. This is my home. My kids and I are crammed into a hostel across town. My youngest can’t sleep because she doesn’t have her bunny.”
A sad young woman talking to a man | Source: Midjourney
His face darkened, and for a second, I thought he was angry at me. Instead, he muttered, “That son of a…” He stopped himself, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice softer now. “I had no idea. Come in, and we’ll find the bunny.”
A serious young man opening his door | Source: Midjourney
He stepped aside, and I hesitated before walking in. The familiar smell of home hit me, and my eyes burned with tears I refused to let fall. Jack—he introduced himself as Jack—helped me search Sophie’s room, which looked untouched.
“Here he is,” Jack said, pulling Mr. Floppy from under the bed.
A pink stuffed bunny under a bed | Source: Midjourney
I held the bunny close, imagining Sophie’s joy. “Thank you,” I said, my voice trembling.
“Tell me everything,” Jack said, sitting on the edge of Sophie’s bed. “What exactly did my brother say to you?”
I hesitated but told him everything: the call, the threats, the hostel. He listened quietly, his jaw tightening with every word.
A couple talking | Source: Midjourney
When I finished, he stood and pulled out his phone. “This isn’t right,” he said.
“Wait—what are you doing?”
“Fixing this,” he said, dialing.
The conversation that followed was heated, though I could only hear his side.
A serious man on his phone | Source: Pexels
“You kicked a single mom and her kids out of their home? For me?” Jack’s voice was sharp. “No, you’re not getting away with this. Fix it now, or I will.”
He hung up and turned to me. “Pack your things at the hostel. You’re coming back tonight.”
I blinked, not sure I’d heard him right. “What about you?”
“I’ll find somewhere else to stay,” he said firmly. “I can’t stay here after what my brother pulled. And he’ll cover your rent for the next six months.”
A smiling man talking to a woman | Source: Midjourney
That evening, Jack helped us move back in. Sophie lit up when she saw Mr. Floppy, her little arms clutching the bunny like a treasure.
“Thank you,” I told Jack as we unpacked. “You didn’t have to do all this.”
“I couldn’t let you stay there another night,” he said simply.
A young child holding her toy | Source: Midjourney
Over the next few weeks, Jack kept showing up. He fixed the leaky faucet in the kitchen. One night, he brought over groceries.
“You didn’t have to do this,” I said, feeling overwhelmed.
“It’s nothing,” he said with a shrug. “I like helping.”
A man with groceries | Source: Pexels
The girls adored him. Lily asked for his advice on her science project. Emma roped him into board games. Even Sophie warmed up to him, offering Mr. Floppy a “hug” for Jack to join their tea party.
I started to see more of the man behind the kind gestures. He was funny, patient, and genuinely cared about my kids. Eventually, our dinners together blossomed into a romance.
A couple on a date night | Source: Pexels
One evening several months later, as we sat on the porch after the girls had gone to bed, Jack spoke quietly.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said, looking out into the yard.
“About what?”
“I don’t want you and the girls to ever feel like this again. No one should be scared of losing their home overnight.”
A young man talking to his girlfriend | Source: Midjourney
His words hung in the air.
“I want to help you find something permanent,” he continued. “Will you marry me?”
I was stunned. “Jack… I don’t know what to say. Yes!”
A marriage proposal | Source: Pexels
A month later, we moved into a beautiful little house Jack found for us. Lily had her own room. Emma painted hers pink. Sophie ran to hers, holding Mr. Floppy like a shield.
As I tucked Sophie in that night, she whispered, “Mama, I love our new home.”
“So do I, baby,” I said, kissing her forehead.
A woman tucking her daughter in | Source: Midjourney
Jack stayed for dinner that night, helping me set the table. As the girls chattered, I looked at him and knew: he wasn’t just our hero. He was family.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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