The State-Assigned Husband Novel by Willow Ashbury _ Novel




The State-Assigned Husband Chapter 01

A decade later, the birth rate had hit rock bottom.
The government rolled out a new rule: anyone who hit thirty-five and was still single would get slapped with a massive fine.
I was eating breakfast when the news alert popped up on my phone.
I laughed it off.
Because I’d gotten married six years earlier.
Ding-dong.
The doorbell rang.
I opened it to find a sharply dressed man in a suit, with a refined face and clear eyes—like he’d stepped out of a magazine.
“Ms. Moore, I presume?” he asked.
I nodded.
He held out his hand, smiling faintly, “Hello, I’m Ethan Carter. Your spouse assigned by the Civil Registry’s marriage system.”
I froze in place.
“There must be a mistake,” I frowned, “I got married six years ago.”
As soon as the words left my mouth, my phone vibrated. A text popped up—
“Ms. Moore, as you approach 35 and remain unregistered, to avoid the hefty fine and comply with national policy, the Civil Registry’s marriage system has matched you with a spouse. Please contact them promptly.”
After reading it, my first thought was it’s a scam.
Scammers are getting more outrageous these days.
Once they only made calls or sent links, but now they’re sending people to my door.
I turned my phone screen toward him, “Did you send this text too?”
Ethan glanced down, his expression calm, “It’s an official message from the Civil Registry. You can verify it.”
“No need,” I stepped back, preparing to close the door, “I don’t need an assigned spouse. I’m married.”
“Ms. Moore—”
“Goodbye.”
He pressed his hand against the door, not hard but steady.
“I know you don’t believe me,” he said, his tone calm and unhurried, “This is my business card. You can confirm with the Civil Registry anytime. Once verified, call this number if you want to reach me.”
He placed the card gently on the shoe cabinet by the door.
Then he turned and left.
I watched him walk away—tall, straight-backed, like a tree untouched by the grime of the city.
I glanced down at the card.
Ethan Carter. Vice President of Carter Group.
I almost laughed out loud.
Nowadays, scammers even dare to make up such identities.
I picked up the card and tossed it into the trash can.
It was a little after eleven when Liam got home.
He shrugged off his coat, looking completely drained, and sank onto the sofa, closing his eyes.
I set a bowl of creamy egg noodles I’d just cooked in front of him, saying with a pang of concern, “Honey, you’ve lost so much weight lately. Is work really that busy?”
“Yeah, the project’s on a tight deadline,” he replied.
“You can’t push yourself this hard every day,” I said.
Hesitating for a moment, I added, “By the way, a scammer came by today. He said he was my assigned spouse from the Civil Registry and even sent a text urging me to marry him. Can you believe they didn’t even check my background? I’ve been married for six years.”
I spoke lightly, as if telling a joke.
But the chopsticks slipped from Liam’s hand.
His face flickered for a split second.
It was so fast I almost missed it. But I’d been with this man for six years. I knew his every expression. That wasn’t exhaustion. Wasn’t surprise. It was fear.
Like someone had suddenly uncovered something.
“Honey?” I called.
He snapped back to his senses, bent down to pick up the chopsticks, and smiled, “Scammers are really rampant these days. Be careful. Don’t open the door for strangers anymore.”
“I know,” I said.
“I’ll run you a bath,” he offered.
I turned and walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind me. Standing in front of the mirror,
my hands started to tremble.
That look on his face—it was like a needle piercing my heart.
I hadn’t misread it.
What was he so afraid of?
I took a deep breath, telling myself, No. He wouldn’t lie to me.
But that night, sleep wouldn’t come. I tossed and turned.

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