Roesy_Moore

Kimberly Campbell, a beautiful and goal driven financial analyst, knew exactly what she wanted for herself, and a baby didn't make the list. 

It was a huge stray from the big plans, and the commitment a baby required, she was certain she could never afford. 

With no one to blame, there was only one victim — the stupid glasses of Vodka that had led her into the arms of a man, whose first name was all she knew. Nicholas. 


Nicholas Vice loved nothing more than being in charge of his own life and decisions. And he was more proud of the casual and mutually-beneficial relationships with little to no commitments he enjoyed. But disappointment came in shocking waves when his father gave an ultimatum to marry his favorite and soon-to-be promoted staff, or risk losing his inheritance.


Vexed and certain there was a ploy somewhere, Nicholas vowed to expose the gold digger who was trying to ruin his life. 


With determination in his heart, he took up his temp role at the head branch. But the unexpected twist occurs when Nicholas discovers that not only was his 'supposed bride' his one-night stand, she was also pregnant. 

Taking advantage of 'the' situation, he proposed a deal, the only one he believed would get him out of his father's ultimatum — a contract marriage. 


Marriage for a year in exchange for her pride and reputation.

Married To Mr. Vice

The closet door creaked open, revealing a battlefield of clothes. Dresses of all colors and styles hung in an organized chaos.

Kimberly rummaged through the racks, pulling out one item after another, discarding them with a frustrated sigh.

Tonight was her "dinner date" with Nicholas, a term she used with air quotes in her mind. This whole dinner date with Nicholas felt like a charade. The whole situation felt contrived, a performance more than anything else.

Anything too fancy wouldn't do. It would scream "trying too hard," and she loathed that.

Finally, she settled on a simple black knee-length sheath dress that clung comfortably to her curves. It wasn't flashy, it didn't scream "look at me," it just… existed. Perfect.

She threw on a pair of heels, the kind that gave her height without compromising on comfort, and a quick dab of mascara and a swipe of lip gloss, finished the look. She was ready – or rather, not-ready.

"Dinner Date"