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The Marriage Equation Novel Cover

The Marriage Equation

Confronted by her husband’s mocking first love, the current Mrs. Brooke offers only indifference. For her, the union with billionaire Noah Brooke is a cold, calculated equation for mutual benefit. She views the marriage not as a romantic endeavor, but as a strategic tool to double her net worth and status. Dismissing the concept of love as a ridiculous notion, she remains focused on her financial goals, never taking her husband or his past flames seriously.
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Chapter 3

His deep, mysterious eyes flickered with an emotion I couldn't quite place.

He stood there, speechless for what felt like forever. I stared at his face, so close to mine, and found myself lost in thought. He was undeniably handsome—he had strong features but not harsh, with an aura of quiet intensity. Yet, even facing such a breathtaking man, I felt nothing.

"Noah, our marriage was always about business. There's no need to overthink it.

"I've known about you and Lillian for a while now. You know what you should and shouldn't do. Grandpa cares a lot about the Brookes' reputation."

I grew more serious as I spoke. His grandfather, Doug Brooke's, health was worsening, and if anything happened, I doubted he could handle the stress. The company would feel the blow too.

After a long pause, Noah finally responded, "Teagan, you're right. The last thing our marriage needs is feelings."

I pulled my hand back, my voice cold. "The doors of the Brooke residence are for me and me alone. Don't even think about bringing another woman into that house."

He straightened his collar and gave me a playful smile in the mirror.

"Don't worry, Mrs. Brooke."

On the way back, Noah unexpectedly seemed interested in conversation, chatting more than usual.

"Where do you plan to open your studio?" he asked. "I gave you enough money to start a whole company, so why not think big?"

I gazed out the window. "Because that’s what I want."

Seeing my lack of interest, he quickly changed the subject.

"Has Grandpa talked to you about anything recently?"

I sighed and turned to him. "He wants us to have a baby as soon as possible."

Noah immediately started coughing, his face flushing bright red, clearly uncomfortable and not sure where to look.

"I-I'm not ready for that," he stammered.

I fell silent for a while before chuckling. "Well, I am. Grandpa's waiting to hold his great-grandchild. We wouldn't want to disappoint him, would we?"

He hesitated but finally muttered, "Alright."

A child born into the Brookes would already have a head start in life. It didn't matter to me who the father was or if we had any real connection. As long as my current status allowed me to live comfortably and elevate my career, that was all I needed.

On the day my studio opened, the event was grand—thanks to the Brookes' name. Industry leaders flocked to support me, and the celebration was lively and extravagant.

Noah didn't show up, but he did send a huge bouquet of flowers.

Doug attended in person to cut the ribbon and didn't miss the chance to remind the business moguls to take good care of me. He had no objections to me starting the studio; in fact, he admired my ambition and courage.

Having just returned to the country, I needed time to gather momentum, and he understood that.

After the opening ceremony, I cleaned up and retreated to my office to make some coffee. Suddenly, I heard the click of high heels approaching.

I looked up and saw Noah's dream girl, Lillian. She was a well-known model in the industry—tall, with strikingly fair skin, and dressed in a sleek, black strap dress that highlighted her elegant neckline and shoulders. Her soft, natural makeup added to her graceful appearance.

Her voice was sweet as she introduced herself. "Hello, Ms. Reed. I'm Noah's girlfriend, Lillian."

I was busy sorting through a pile of design drafts, trying to decide on the final sample for my launch. Frustration was creeping in as I struggled with the details.

"Ms. Reed," she repeated, her patience clearly wearing thin. "Ms. Reed, who gave you the audacity to act so high and mighty?"

I let out a small laugh. "Shouldn't you be calling me Mrs. Brooke?"

"Mrs. Brooke," she replied through gritted teeth.

"Sit."

I went back to reviewing the drafts. With my product launch just days away and adjustments still needed, I was far too busy to deal with her. I hadn't planned on engaging, but she had come here looking for a fight.

Lillian grew impatient. "He doesn't love you at all."

I rolled my eyes. "I don't know whether he loves me, but I am Mrs. Brooke now. And who are you, exactly?

"And do you even realize the size of the fortune tied to this marriage between the Brookes and the Reeds? You're here talking about love? How naive."

From the moment I was born, I understood how the world worked. Getting hung up on love was the most childish thing imaginable.

Love—real or not—could disappear in a heartbeat. Why chase after something so fleeting when material wealth, something tangible, could offer far more security?

Only when I held it tightly in my hands could I feel at peace.

Lillian was visibly shaken by my words, momentarily lost for a response.

"If there's no love between you two, why are you holding on? Are you really going to sacrifice your happiness for money?" she asked, sounding genuinely confused.

I couldn't help but sigh. It was like talking to a brick wall.

"Without money, there is no happiness. And let me ask you—if Noah were broke, would you still love him?"

Without hesitation, Lillian replied, "Yes! I'd love him even if he were penniless!"

How touching—true love, apparently.

"Ms. Carroll, I'm not questioning your love for Noah, but you need to understand something. This is my studio, not the place for you to make grand declarations. If you want to profess your love, go to Noah.

"If you said you loved Noah for his money, it'd be normal, and I'd respect your eye for opportunity. But to say you love him for who he is? Well, don't be surprised if I laugh at your childishness.

"Also, your relationship has nothing to do with me, nor do I care to know. So please, don't come to me with this again."

Livid, she grabbed the coffee I had set on the desk and threw it at me.

"You think you're so special! You're nothing but a dog in the manger! Who do you think you are to humiliate me?!"

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