Cursed bride

“Looks like our beautiful bride is ready.”

Kameron’s ridiculing voice broke Anastasia from her trance. She looked back at the woman in the mirror. Her doe-like brown eyes had turned red after she had mourned the night away.

She had never shed a single tear for her grandfather’s death, but now misery had plagued her ability to realize the outcome of her past deeds.

No one can escape fate. No one.

“I am-,” Her voice had died out. She couldn’t ignore the pain in her throat.

“Save that for the vows,” Kameron warned. He approached for a closer look at his bride, whose eyes were still glued to herself in the mirror.

It was then he realized how beautiful she looked in the ivory white wedding dress. The makeup artist concealed all the wounds and bruises he had given her under that makeup.

Her eyes seemed so clear and pure. She resembled Catherine physically, but her personality leans on the contrary.

She wasn’t brave, nor had she had the unwavering disposition