Falling for My Contract Husband

"Huh, Sir, why is my house sealed?" Mario asked in confusion as he arrived home to find his door locked, and marked with the word "SEIZED" by bank officials.

A group of burly men dressed entirely in black had carried out the seizure without his consent.

Mario had just returned from the gym after finishing a personal training session with one of his exclusive clients. He was bewildered to discover his home had been seized by a bank he didn't even recall ever borrowing money from.

"This is the court order for asset seizure by the bank, Sir. Please read it. You've been delinquent on your loan for six months," one of the men in black said, handing him a document.

The letter stated that Mario had put up his house as collateral for a 1 billion rupiah loan two years prior. What? How could he have no idea? The lending institution wasn't even a well-known national bank, it seemed more like a predatory lender. Mario pressed his palm to his forehead, suddenly feeling dizzy.

"Sir, all my belongings are still inside. Can I go get my things first?" Mario pleaded with the debt collector.

"I'm sorry, Sir, that's not possible. Also, we'll need the keys to your Pajero Sport. It was included as collateral for the loan," the collector added.

Mario felt his legs give out beneath him, and he sank to the floor of his porch.

"This is insane, Sir! I've been tricked by my ex-wife. I never signed any loan documents!" Mario protested weakly.

The debt collector grew impatient, showing no sympathy for his plight. "That's not my concern, Sir. Hand over the Pajero keys now!" the bald, burly man demanded sharply.

Reluctantly, Mario handed over the keys to his Pajero Sport.

"Now I'm locking the front gate. Please leave the premises," the collector said, ushering Mario out of his own home.

Mario ran both hands over his face, his thoughts in complete disarray. He was unprepared for the string of misfortunes that had hit him that morning. Shuffling unsteadily, he stepped off the porch of his once-luxurious home, and moved toward the front gate.

With a pained gaze, he looked back at his house one last time. He was now officially homeless, suddenly without a roof over his head.

Mario sat down on the sidewalk in front of his former home, still unsure what to do next. His body felt weak; he hadn't eaten breakfast all morning, and had only drunk bottled water at the gym.

Mario had officially divorced his wife, Rosita Mulya, two months earlier, and they'd been living apart for three months. Before becoming his spouse, Rosita had been his manager. They'd first met when Mario was launching his career as a fitness celebrity.

Mario Chandra had risen to fame after winning first place in a men's bodybuilding competition several years ago. The victory brought a flood of offers to model fitness products, and muscle-building supplements.

At the peak of his career, he'd