We Married In 9 Days Novel PDF Free Download

funny teaser

The Female Lead Name: Dagmar Nielsen Country: Denmark (Copenhagen) Age: 24 Personality: * The Soulful Artist: Dagmar is observant and quiet, often seeing beauty in things others overlook—like the way rain streaks a window or the specific shade of the Baltic Sea.

The Male Lead Name: Elias Jensen Country: Denmark (Copenhagen) Age: 26 Personality: The Driven Architect: Elias is structured and logical

so start

The air in the Aarhus city square was thick with the scent of roasted almonds, salty sea air, and the electric tension of a high-stakes election.

Henrik Jensen, Elias’s father and the man currently leading the polls to be the next Mayor, stood behind a podium draped in the Danish flag. He was a man who looked like he had been carved out of granite—sharp suit, silver hair, and a voice that could command a storm to stop. He lived for power, for order, and most importantly, for his reputation.

ml dad

Citizens of Aarhus!" Henrik roared, his voice amplified by the massive speakers. "We stand at the precipice of a new era! My opponent promises change, but I promise stability! I promise a Denmark that remembers its roots while building for its children!"

The crowd erupted. "JENSEN! JENSEN! JENSEN!" The slogans were rhythmic, a heartbeat of a thousand people stomping their feet on the cobblestones

Behind him stood his lead guard, a mountain of a man named Soren, whose sunglasses reflected the sunlight and whose earpiece crackled with security updates. Soren’s job was to watch for threats, but today, he was mostly watching Henrik’s blood pressure rise with every dramatic gesture.

ml dad

"Look at this," Henrik whispered sideways to Soren during a break for applause, his professional smile never wavering. "The people love a man who has his house in order. And my house? It is a fortress."

"If you say so, sir," Soren replied dryly.

ml dad

Henrik turned back to the microphone, his chest puffed out. "And when my time in office is done, I know the legacy of this city will be safe. Because a man is only as strong as the family he raises! My son, Elias Jensen—a man of logic, a man of architecture, a man who understands the value of a solid foundation—will one day—"

ml dad

Henrik’s voice died in his throat. His "granite" face cracked.

In the middle of the crowd, right between a group of students holding banners and an elderly woman with a Pomeranian, a path was clearing. Not because of a protest, but because people were staring. There stood Elias. But it wasn't the Elias his father expected. This wasn't the man in the sleek, minimalist charcoal suit he was supposed to wear to the charity gala tonight.

Elias was wearing a tuxedo. A wedding tuxedo. He had a white rose pinned to his lapel, and his hair, usually styled to perfection, was windswept and messy. He looked like he had just run a marathon through a flower shop. And tucked tightly under his arm was a girl. Dagmar.

She was a vision of chaotic beauty. She was in a floor-length, vintage lace wedding gown that looked like it belonged in a museum (or a very expensive attic). Her veil was lopsided, caught on one of her earrings, and she was clutching a bouquet of wildflowers that looked suspiciously like they had been plucked from a public park five minutes ago.

Henrik gasped, the sound caught by the microphone and broadcasted to the entire square. It sounded like a dying vacuum cleaner. The crowd fell silent. They didn't know Elias’s face well—Henrik kept him private to build "mystery"—but the guards knew. Oh, the guards knew.

Elias caught his father's eye. He didn't look ashamed. He looked... terrified, but deliriously happy. He gave a small, awkward wave, then grabbed Dagmar’s hand and started pulling her through the crowd toward the back alleyway.

"Sir?" Soren whispered, stepping closer to Henrik as the candidate remained frozen like a statue. "Are you... having a heart attack?"

ml dad

That..." Henrik choked out. "Is that... a bride?"

Looks like a 19th-century French lace design, sir," Soren observed, leaning in. "Very trendy."

ml dad

"He's supposed to be at the firm!" Henrik hissed, his face turning a shade of red that matched the Danish flag.

You know, sir," the guard said with a tiny, rare smirk.

ml dad

What?" Henrik snapped.

"The politics might be a mess..." Soren whispered, nodding toward the beautiful, breathless girl in the white dress. "But you have to admit... your new daughter-in-law is beautiful."

ml dad

Henrik’s jaw dropped.

9 days marriage

The Jensen mansion in the suburbs of Aarhus didn't feel like a home; it felt like a museum where the exhibits were all perpetually angry. The heavy oak doors slammed shut behind the "happy couple," but the silence that followed was more deafening than the cheering crowd at the rally. The air was thick with the expensive, bitter scent of Henrik’s imported cigars. He was leaning against the marble fireplace, a glass of scotch in one hand and a smoking cigar in the other, his back turned to the room.

Mette Jensen, Elias’s mother, was pacing the Persian rug. She looked like she had just stepped out of a high-fashion catalog—sharp bob, silk blouse, and eyes that could freeze the North Sea.

ml dad

Nineteen years," Henrik said, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. "I spent nineteen years building a political image of a stable, traditional family man. And in nineteen seconds, you turned me into a meme, Elias

He turned around, his eyes landing on Dagmar. She was still in the lace dress, though she had kicked off her heels and was standing barefoot on the cold floor. Her golden hair was a mess of tangles, and her pale skin looked almost translucent under the harsh chandelier light.

ml mom

And you," Mette hissed, pointing a manicured finger at Dagmar. "Does your family know? Does your father know his daughter is currently the most hated woman in the Danish conservative party?"

dagmar(fl)

Dagmar swallowed hard, her hand tightening around Elias’s. "I... I haven't called them yet. I was going to do it after this."

ml mom

"After this?" Mette let out a sharp, hysterical laugh. "You've been married for two hours! How long have you even known each other? A year? Six months? Did you meet at the university?"

elias(ml)

Elias cleared his throat, pulling Dagmar closer to his side. He looked at his mother with a straight face. "Actually, it’s been nine days."

The silence returned, but this time it felt like the floor was falling away.

ml dad

Nine... days?" Henrik repeated, his cigar ash falling onto the expensive rug.

elias(ml)

"Nine days," Elias confirmed. "We met last Tuesday. I went to get my grandmother’s violin fixed. Dagmar was the one behind the counter. By Thursday, I knew. By Sunday, we were planning the escape."

ml mom

NINE DAYS!" Mette shrieked, her voice reaching a pitch that probably alerted every dog in the neighborhood. "You married a stranger! You brought a girl who smells like wood varnish into this family after NINE DAYS?"

elias(ml)

It was a very productive week, Mother," Elias said dryly.

Standing in the corner was Uncle Aksel, Henrik’s brother and the family’s unofficial "fixer." He had been watching the drama with a look of suppressed amusement. Seeing the vein throb in Henrik’s forehead, Aksel decided to intervene.

ml uncle

Alright, alright," Aksel said, stepping forward. "The deed is done. The press is already calling it a 'Modern Fairy Tale.' If we kick them out now, the headlines will say 'Heartless Politician Disowns Son for Love.' We can't have that. Elias, take your wife to your room. We’ll deal with the legalities in the morning."

SLAP. The sound echoed through the hall. Henrik had moved with surprising speed, his hand connecting with Aksel’s cheek.

ml dad

Who are you to tell me what to do in my house?" Henrik roared. He turned his rage toward Elias and Dagmar. "GET OUT. Both of you. Take your dandelions and your lace and find a bridge to live under. You are no longer a Jensen."

ml mom

Mette gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. "Henrik, stay calm. The neighbors... the cameras outside..."

ml dad

I don't care!" Henrik yelled. "I want them gone!"

Elias didn't flinch. He didn't beg. Instead, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and tapped the screen a few times.

elias(ml)

"Okay," Elias said calmly. "We’ll go. But before we leave, I’m just going to start a Facebook Live. I have about fifty thousand followers from my architecture blog, and I’m sure the national news outlets would love a notification that I’m live-streaming from my front porch."

ml dad

Henrik froze. "What are you doing?"

elias(ml)

"I’m just going to give everyone a shortcut," Elias said, his thumb hovering over the 'Go Live' button. "Instead of them wondering why I’m leaving, I’ll just show them. 'Hey everyone, here is my dad, the man who wants your vote for a better future, kicking his son and new bride out into the street at night because we fell in love.' It’ll be viral in ten minutes. I might even tag your opponent."

Henrik’s face went from red to purple, then finally to a sickly pale white. Mette, Henrik, and Aksel all did a simultaneous face-palm. It was the Jensen family’s first moment of true unity.

ml mom

You... you wouldn't," Mette whispered.

elias(ml)

Try me," Elias replied, his voice cold. "I have nothing to lose. I have Dagmar. That’s my 'forever.' Your election, however, is on a very tight deadline."

ml uncle

Aksel let out a dry, barking laugh. "He's got you, Henrik. He’s got you by the throat."

ml dad

Henrik took a long, shaky breath. He pointed toward the grand staircase without looking at them. "Fine. Take her to your room. Stay out of my sight. If I see a single blonde hair in the hallway tomorrow morning, I’m calling the lawyers."

Elias didn't wait for a second invitation. He scooped Dagmar up, wedding dress and all, and began carrying her up the stairs. Once they were gone, the three adults stood in the morgue-like silence of the foyer.

ml uncle

Aksel rubbed his stinging cheek and looked at his brother. "You know... your son is very dangerous, Henrik. He didn't get that from the violin girl. He got that ruthless streak from you."

ml dad

Henrik threw his cigar into the fireplace and stared at the flames. "Let them stay for now. I need the voters to think we are a happy family. But the moment the final ballot is cast and the election is over? I am getting them out. I will scrub that girl's name from our history."

dagmar(fl)

Upstairs, behind a locked door, Elias set Dagmar down. She looked at him, her eyes wide. "Nine days, Elias. Are we crazy?"

elias(ml)

Elias leaned his forehead against hers, the chaotic noise of the world finally fading away. "Maybe. But I told you, Dagmar... for you, nine days is enough for a lifetime. This is just the beginning."

romance

The door to Elias’s bedroom clicked shut, sealing out the venomous atmosphere of the hallway. For a moment, they both just stood there. The room was exactly like Elias—sleek, modern, and smelling faintly of expensive cologne and old drafting paper

Elias didn’t say a word. He groaned, unbuttoned his tuxedo jacket, threw it toward a designer chair, and literally launched himself onto the king-sized bed. He landed face-down in the pillows with a muffled thud.

dagmar(fl)

Dagmar, still in her heavy lace gown, stood by the window, looking at the city lights of Aarhus. "Is this really your room?" she whispered. "It’s so... organized. I feel like if I breathe too hard, I’ll mess up the symmetry."

elias(ml)

Elias rolled over onto his back, propping himself up on his elbows. A mischievous glint returned to his eyes. "You’re allowed to mess it up, Wifey."

dagmar(fl)

Dagmar’s breath hitched. Her face turned a shade of pink that rivaled the sunset. "Don't... don't call me that. It’s weird."

elias(ml)

What? It’s your legal title," Elias teased, sitting up and patting the spot on the bed next to him. "Come here, Hubby is lonely."

dagmar(fl)

Elias!" she squeaked, hiding her face in her hands. "You’re so shameless. How can you be so relaxed? Your father literally looked like he was going to explode. Do you really have no feelings about this? He’s going to throw us out the second that last ballot is counted.

elias(ml)

Elias’s expression softened, the humor fading into something more grounded. "He’s a politician, Dagmar. He barks to keep his supporters happy, but he won't bite his own legacy. He’s stuck with us. And besides..." He stood up and walked toward her, his footsteps silent on the plush carpet. "I’ve spent twenty-six years doing exactly what he wanted. These nine days? They’re the first time I’ve actually been alive."

dagmar(fl)

He stopped just inches from her. Dagmar reached up, her fingers fumbling with the heavy, intricate silver earring that had been pinching her lobe all evening. "I can't... it’s stuck," she muttered, frustrated.

elias(ml)

Let me." Elias’s hands were steady—an architect’s hands. He gently brushed her golden hair behind her ear. His fingers were warm against her cool, pale skin. As he worked the clasp free, his breath swept across her neck, sending a shiver straight down her spine.

elias(ml)

There," he whispered, holding the earring. But he didn't pull away. Instead, he leaned down, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin behind her ear.

dagmar(fl)

Elias..." she breathed.

elias(ml)

I told you," he murmured against her skin. "Forever starts now. I don't care about the election. I don't care about the mansion. I just care about this

elias(ml)

You look like you were made of starlight and old lace tonight."

dagmar(fl)

I look like a girl who ran through a park and got caught in a political crossfire."

elias(ml)

Then you’re the most beautiful casualty I’ve ever seen."

dagmar(fl)

Why me? You could have had any socialite in Denmark."

elias(ml)

Because socialites are made of glass. You’re made of music, Dagmar."

dagmar(fl)

Promise me you won't regret this when the shouting starts tomorrow."

elias(ml)

Regretting you would be like regretting breathing. It’s not an option

dagmar(fl)

Nine days... people will say we’re fools."

elias(ml)

Let them. I'd rather be a fool with you than a genius without you

elias(ml)

Close your eyes. Forget the hallway. Forget my father. It’s just you and me."

He captured her lips in a kiss that was slow, deep, and tasted of promises. He swept her off her feet—careful of the vintage lace—and carried her back to the bed. The world outside could burn; for now, the fortress was theirs.

...

Morning in the Jensen house was not a "sunny breakfast" affair. It was a cold, calculated event. Henrik sat at the head of the long marble table, buried in his tablet, checking the morning polls. Mette sat opposite him, sipping black coffee as if it were poison. Then came the newlyweds.

Elias looked refreshed, wearing a simple black sweater. Dagmar, however, looked like a fish out of water. Having no clothes of her own here, she was wearing a pair of Elias’s oversized gym leggings and a baggy sweatshirt that swallowed her small frame.

ml mom

Mette’s eyes dropped to Dagmar’s leggings. Her lip curled. "I didn't realize the Jensen dining room had been downgraded to a gymnasium."

Dagmar froze, a piece of toast halfway to her mouth. She looked like a startled rabbit, her golden hair tied in a messy bun. She sat with her legs tucked under her chair, eating silently, trying to take up as little space as possible.

elias(ml)

She’ll have her things moved in by noon, Mother," Elias said smoothly, reaching over to take a sip of Dagmar’s orange juice just to annoy his mom.

ml dad

Henrik stood up suddenly, snapping his tablet shut. "I have a meeting with the trade union. Do not let the press inside the gates." He left without a single glance at his son or the "bride."

ml mom

Mette sighed, standing up as well. "Well, since the staff is off today for the rally holiday, I suppose I have to go out and arrange for the lunch catering. I certainly won't be cooking."

elias(ml)

Why go out?" Elias asked, a wicked sparkle in his eyes.

ml mom

Mette paused. "Excuse me?"

elias(ml)

We have a world-class, five-star chef right here," Elias said, nodding toward Dagmar.

dagmar(fl)

Dagmar choked on her toast. Her head snapped toward Elias, her eyes wide with pure terror. "I... what?"

elias(ml)

Oh, don't be humble, Wifey," Elias said, leaning back and grinning. "Dagmar is a genius in the kitchen. She makes this... what was it? This artisan sea-salt crusted salmon with dill-infused reduction? It’s better than anything at Noma.

dagmar(fl)

Dagmar felt the blood drain from her face. She could barely boil an egg without staring at it suspiciously. She looked at Elias, her mouth hanging open. I will kill you, her eyes screamed.

Mette stopped in her tracks. A slow, predatory smirk spread across her face. She hated Dagmar, but she loved the idea of watching her fail.

ml mom

"Is that so?" Mette asked, her voice dripping with fake interest. "Well then. I shall cancel the catering. I expect lunch at 1:00 PM sharp. Henrik will be back, and he is very particular about his salmon."

ml mom

Mette leaned down, looking Dagmar right in the eye. "Today’s lunch will be done by our new bride. Don't disappoint us... dear.

As Mette swept out of the room, her heels clicking victoriously, Dagmar turned to Elias and hit him with a sofa pillow.

dagmar(fl)

ELIAS! I CAN'T COOK!" she hissed. "I restore violins! I don't 'infuse' things! I don't even know where the stove is!"

elias(ml)

Elias laughed, catching her hands and pulling her close. "Relax. I’ll help you. It’ll be fun. Plus, seeing my mom eat 'artisan' food made by a girl in gym leggings? It’s going to be the highlight of my year.

dagmar(fl)

Dagmar groaned, burying her face in his chest. "We are going to be homeless by dinner time."

Download NovelToon APP on App Store and Google Play