Husband For Hire | Taehyung FF

All Rights Reserved ©


Irene doesn't believe in love. She found her fiancé screwing her sister on her wedding day and vowed to never go near men again. Unfortunately for her, marriage is the only way to receive her inheritance. She decides to forget about it and live off her own means. One day she is involved in an accident that leaves her in a five month coma. When she wakes up, she is without a job and without a home. She starts using up her savings but is soon running out. Due to her injury she struggles to find another job as she is too much of a liability. Stuck between a rock and a hard place, she is forced to do the one thing she vowed never not to do, marry. While eating at a restaurant she overhears her waiter in need of a better paying job. It turns out Taehyung is a fresh out of college and out of work actor. Perfect. She then presents the idea to him to marry her for six months. After that, she will receive her inheritance and in exchange, she will pay him $1,000,000 for his services. Simple enough right? Wrong. A clause stated in her inheritance says that she must wed and live in her old town forcing her to once again face the very same people she ran away from. Will she be able to convince her family that she finally found her true love or will she be outted and left out of her inheritance? © All Rights Reserved Wattpad: _SamanthaRose_

Romance / Drama
4.0 1 review
Age Rating:

Black Wedding

“What the fuck! How could you Bogum? You’re a fucking piece of shit!” I yell as loud as I can, not giving two fucks if everyone at the church can hear me. I stood there by the door wide eyed in shock over seeing my fiancé trying to put on his pants after having caught him and my sister Suzy screwing each other in his dressing room.

“And you,” I point to my ugly sister. “my own sister.” I say in utter disbelief. “Couldn’t you have found someone else to fuck? Someone single or one without sight so they don’t see just how ugly and horrible you are. Someone widowed or deaf so that they don’t have to hear your annoying voice. Someone, anyone but especially not one that’s just about to get married and to your own sibling for God’s sake.

Wow, I managed to say all that in one breath and without breaking eye contact.

“Baby, please listen to me, I-” I cut him off.

“Don’t touch me Bogum.” I tell him as he keeps approaching me. What doesn’t he understand? I don’t want to be touched.

He puts his hands on me and I lose it

“Don’t fucking touch me! Get your filthy hands off me!” I scream so hard my throat burns and I’m pretty sure I’m about to burst a vein. I slap him hard and push him with all my might away from me. My heart starts to pound heavily inside my chest. I feel rage. Rage like I’ve never felt before and all I see is red. Red, the color of blood. Blood, which I want to draw out of these two assholes in front of me who have betrayed me in the worst way possible.

Eight years. Eight years of pure bliss and happiness I spent with him. Loving him, caring for him, making love to him. Eight years of helping him become the person he is today, because let’s face it, he was practically broke and awkwardly social when I met him my freshman year in high school.

He was the first person to see me for who I was rather than what I wore or looked like. His family didn’t have the means to provide him with the best life could give him and he had so much potential that I couldn’t let it go to waste over something as trivial as money. I had a lot of it at my disposal and had nothing but outfits, purses, accessories, and shoes to spend it on so why not invest in a good deed. It all started when I accidentally spilled chocolate milk on his brand-new white shoes. I felt terrible because I knew how many lawns he had to mow and how many driveways he had to clean in order to save up for them. He had wanted to make a good impression on a girl he liked, and I offered to help him out.

That same day I took him shopping despite his many protests. I told him that it wasn’t like he had bad clothes, but it was the fact that they didn’t fit properly since he was growing. Plus, I really wanted to go shopping.

After that day, we became really good friends. I even started giving him pointers on how to flirt or what to gift her to get her to notice him. After about two months we made some progress and he finally asked her out. To my surprise and his, she agreed. Let’s just say the date was a bust. Turns out they had nothing in common and she thought he was rich and was only after the money. She made fun of him and degraded him in the worst way possible.

He called me that night and told me everything that happened. He came over to my house and we ate snacks, pizza, and a whole lot of ice cream. We watched movies and we stayed up all night having fun. That was the first time I saw him cry and the first time it broke my heart to see him that way. It was then that I realized how much more he actually meant to me and I vowed to make him happy so that I would never see him hurt again.

Ironic huh? He ended up hurting me.

Time passed by and we eventually became more than friends. After about a year, he finally had the guts to ask me out. At this point, I was madly in love and excitedly accepted. Until this day, I kept my promise ring. He even made me see the world differently. A world where not everything was about money, but a world filled of the simple things that made my life full of true happiness. He changed me on more ways than one.

He made me see how I needed to stop depending on my family and get a job of my own. He made me change my partying ways and got me focused more on my studies. He changed the way I viewed myself as more than just a future trophy wife. He pushed me to go to college and get an actual degree instead of going to cosmetology school. Not that there is anything wrong with that, but he saw the potential in me that I didn’t see myself.

I will be forever grateful for the endless number of times that he stayed up with me helping me with my projects. Forever grateful for the time he spent his hard-earned money on me by taking me on a trip to distract me and help me cope with my brother’s death. Forever grateful for his endless number of hugs and kisses he gave me when I would feel down. Forever grateful for being the only one to show up on the day I finally graduated college with my master’s degree. Forever grateful for showing his great love for me by asking me to be his wife and making me feel like I was actually worth something to someone.

And now, I will forever be grateful for making me into a strong woman as a result of his infidelity. For giving me the strength to know that I deserve better. For making me know someone can love me better and that someone is me. I will love myself more than anyone and I will prove that I don’t need him or anyone else in my life to bring forth my own happiness.

“Get out. All of you get out.” I say as calmly as possible trying to compose myself before I hurt anyone like they hurt me. I look around the room to see that no one has moved a muscle. Are they deaf?

I look over to my left and notice a vase full of flowers on top of a small table. I pick it up and throw it at him barely missing his head. I see another vase to my right and pick that up too. I toss it his way, but he ducks just in time. “Aahh.” I hear a scream behind Bogum and notice Suzy holding her nose. He turns around and checks on her. “Are you alright? Let me see.” He places his hands on her face and rubs her cheek which starts to bleed as a small cut is visible.

I am immediately infuriated even more with seeing how even with all of this; how his fucking behind my back hurt me to the core, he still has the audacity to ask her if she’s okay. As if she is the one in actual pain and emotional distress.

Hello, cheated fiancée in her wedding dress on her wedding day standing right in front of you asshole.

I start going on a rampage inside the room picking up anything and everything I can get my hands on and start throwing it at them. Vases, shoes, pens, cups, plates, food, small furniture, heck even the cat in the corner doesn’t go unscathed.

Sorry little buddy. I kind of thought you were a statue.

“Leave! Get out! Get out! Get out! Get the fuck out. I don’t ever want to see you two again.” They barely move so I decide to make my way towards them and start shoving them out the door.

“I said leave! I hate you!” I finally manage to take them out the room. I close and lock the door behind me, and I slide down the door. Once I am on the ground, my anger is replaced by sadness and I burst out in tears. Every emotion courses through my body and I don’t even know where to start.

“Was I not enough?” I whisper to myself.

I hang my head low, close my eyes, and feel as the tears flow down my face onto floor below me. I can hear Bogum banging on the door begging me to open it so that he can come in and talk to me.

Meow. I turn to see the poor cat limping its way towards me.

“Come here kitty. Sorry I hurt you. I didn’t mean to.” I hold on the cat and start petting it. It somehow calms me down.

“I hate you Bogum. I hate you......but I love you.”


Instead of a wedding, I attended a funeral. My own. I may be broken today but tomorrow is a new day and a new start.

I finally break and lie on the floor and rest. My body is exhausted, and my head is pounding. I close my eyes and let the darkness overcome me.

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