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Chapter 4: The Wedding
Last Updated:
2025-07-18 19:59:57
Latest chapter
The Billionaire's Broken Bride Chapter 9: Lines We Shouldn’t Cross
I hated how I could still feel his presence, even when he wasn’t touching me. Ethan stood a few feet away, but the weight of his stare burned through my skin like fire. His jaw was tight, and his eyes—those cold, unreadable eyes—were locked on mine as if he could read every thought in my head. Unfortunately for me, most of those thoughts weren’t the kind I wanted him to know. “I told you,” he said slowly, voice like a blade, “not to go digging into things that don’t concern you.” “But it does concern me,” I shot back, stepping closer before I could stop myself. “She was your ex. She died under suspicious circumstances. And now, someone’s sending me anonymous messages, warning me about you. That concerns me, Ethan.” A flicker of something passed in his expression—guilt, maybe? Pain? But just as quickly, it vanished. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” I laughed bitterly. “Of course I don’t. You never tell me anything.” He took a slow step toward me. I didn’t back away.
The Billionaire's Broken Bride Chapter 8: The Charity Gala
The silence in the car was deafening. The kind that wraps itself around your throat, not loud but suffocating. Between us, it wasn’t just quiet — it was loaded. Every breath felt like it could start a war. Ethan sat beside me, crisp and severe in his black suit, his profile carved from marble. Cold. Sharp. Untouchable. I sat rigid in my seat, my gown molding against me like a second skin, the deep red shade too close to blood. My reflection on the tinted window showed a composed woman — perfect hair, perfect lipstick, perfect lie. But inside, I was unraveling. Quietly. Violently. “This is just for show,” he reminded me before we left the penthouse. “Smile. Walk beside me. Play your role.” Not "please." Not "if you're ready." Just orders. I hadn’t responded. Because if I opened my mouth, I might scream. The car stopped, the door opened, and in a single movement, Ethan stepped out like he owned the city. He turned, held out his hand. I hesitated — long enough for him to notice.
The Billionaire's Broken Bride Chapter 7: Unveiled Ties
I wasn’t the kind of woman who let things go anymore. The old Ariana might’ve curled up in fear, blinded by love or obligation. But the woman Ethan Navarro married—whether he liked it or not—was someone forged by betrayal. I had scars, but they didn’t make me weak. They made me sharper. And now, I was going to use every blade. My phone buzzed quietly as I sat in the café, hidden in a corner booth in Makati. It was an upscale place, the kind where old-money women in designer sunglasses clinked coffee cups and gossiped behind diamond-studded smiles. A place I once belonged to. But today, I wasn’t here for idle chatter. I was waiting for answers. “Ma’am Ariana,” a soft voice interrupted my thoughts. I looked up to see Liza, one of the few people from my old circle who hadn’t turned their back on me when my engagement to Miguel imploded. She slid into the seat across from me, tucking her Hermès bag beside her. “You’re lucky I owe you one,” she said, brushing a strand of her balayag
The Billionaire's Broken Bride Chapter 6: The Door I Shouldn’t Have Opened
I couldn’t sleep. Not with those photos burned into my memory. The woman in the frame had my exact smile. The same curve at the corner of her lips, the same tilt of her chin, as if she was trying to challenge the camera. And Ethan—he didn’t just take the photos. He adored her through the lens. And in that moment, I realized something terrifying: I was living in another woman’s shadow. I stayed up the entire night sitting by the edge of the bed in my satin robe, barely blinking, until the morning sun began to peek through the tall curtains. The silk fabric of my robe clung to my skin like it knew I wasn’t meant to be here. When Ethan walked in with two black coffees in hand, dressed like sin in a crisp white shirt and slacks, he paused. He knew. He knew I had seen it. "You went into my office," he said calmly, like he was commenting on the weather. "I opened a door," I replied, voice flat. "Didn’t realize I’d find a shrine." His jaw tightened, but he didn’t deny it. He place
The Billionaire's Broken Bride Chapter 5: The Stranger I Married
I didn’t sleep. Not because the bed was uncomfortable. But because silence was louder than any storm. Ethan’s penthouse was too quiet. Too perfect. Not a single clock ticked. Not a single shadow moved. Just me—lying there, fully dressed, staring at the ceiling, trying to remember who I used to be before all of this. The girl who believed in love. The girl who thought marriage was sacred. The girl who never imagined she’d end up in a stranger’s home, wearing his ring and pretending it meant nothing. I rose at dawn, barefoot on cold marble floors. The guest room Ethan gave me was luxurious. Cream and gold palette. Floor-to-ceiling windows. A walk-in closet that could swallow my entire old apartment. But I hated it. Because none of it was mine. I opened the balcony doors and stepped outside, letting the morning breeze sting my skin. The city was still half asleep. The streets below looked tiny, like toy roads beneath glass. How could everything feel so big and so
The Billionaire's Broken Bride Chapter 4: The Wedding
I never imagined I’d get married like this. No flowers. No soft music. No father walking me down the aisle. Just silence. Tight, suffocating silence. The kind that pressed against my chest like a warning. I stared at my reflection in the mirror, unsure if the woman wearing the gown was still me. The dress was simple—elegant, expensive, clearly chosen by someone with taste. Not me. It fit like it was tailored overnight, hugging my frame like a second skin. Off-white silk with no frills, no lace, no trace of who I used to be. I looked like a ghost bride. Perfectly composed, completely hollow. “You ready?” I turned slowly. A woman with sharp cheekbones and a headset stood at the doorway. Her black suit screamed assistant, and her tone was clipped, efficient—like this was just another item on her to-do list. I nodded. Not because I was ready. But because I had no other choice. The hallway outside the dressing room was wide and cold. The walls were a pristine ivory, and every
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