My Parents Demanded That I Get Married to Keep the Family Business, So I Chose a Fresh off the Farm Girl to Spite Them

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I’ll be honest—I didn’t start this with good reasons. I wasn’t looking for love or joy. I just wanted to go against my parents.

I grew up rich and spoiled, doing what I wanted—fast cars, big parties, fancy trips. As the only heir to my dad’s business, I thought my future was set.

Then came “the talk.”

“Alex,” my dad said in his serious voice, “it’s time to settle down.”

I leaned back, smirking. “Settle down? You mean get married?”

“Yes,” he said, like it was obvious. “We can’t trust the company to someone who acts reckless. A wife and family will show you’re mature.”

My mom nodded, clearly unhappy. “You’re almost 30, Alex. If you can’t prove yourself, we’ll find someone else.”

I was angry. If they wanted a perfect son with a perfect wife, fine. I’d give them a wife—but not the one they expected.

That’s when I met Mary.

I saw her at a charity event, a place I didn’t usually go. She stood quietly in a plain dress, calm and different. She wasn’t flashy, but she caught my eye.

“Hi, I’m Alex,” I said, confident as always.

“Nice to meet you,” she replied calmly, barely looking at me.

She wasn’t impressed. Perfect.

I got to the point. “I need someone to marry. It’s not about love—it’s complicated. What do you think?”

Mary looked at me for a moment, then laughed. “Interesting. I could use a marriage too. One rule: no questions about my past.”

“Deal,” I said, grinning.

Meeting my parents with Mary was exactly what I wanted. Her simple style and quiet ways clashed with their high standards. My mom’s smile was fake, my dad’s frown deepened. Mary played along, just enough to annoy them.

At a fancy charity ball, cracks appeared. The mayor spotted Mary and praised her family’s work on a hospital. My parents were stunned.

Later, I asked her, “Your family built a hospital?”

“Yes,” she said. “My family runs a big charity. I didn’t tell you because I wanted a break from all that. Your fake marriage plan was perfect—I thought you didn’t care who I was.”

“You knew this was fake?”

“Of course,” she said with a sly grin. “You’re not exactly subtle, Alex.”

I stared at her, realizing she wasn’t just part of my plan. She was smart, independent, and following her own path—just like me.

That night, on a quiet balcony, I looked at her. “Mary, maybe we should stop pretending.”

She smiled warmly for the first time. “You might be right.”

The next day, we told my parents the truth. They were shocked, but for once, I didn’t care. Mary wasn’t what they wanted, but she was who I needed.

What started as a way to rebel became something real. In the end, it wasn’t about revenge—it was about us.