The Wrong Bride

Irene stared at the woman in front of her, shock coursing through her veins. It felt like looking into a mirror—similar features, same piercing gaze, but a world of difference in how they carried themselves. The woman recovered from her initial shock almost instantly, her expression twisting into disgust as her eyes raked over Irene’s stained uniform and tired face.Irene shifted uncomfortably, instinctively trying to cover the bloodstains on her shirt with her hands. This is crazy. This can’t be real.“Do I… know you?” Irene blurted out before she could stop herself.The woman scoffed, flicking an imaginary speck of dust off her designer coat. “I don’t know how the hell we look alike, but I’m certain I don’t want anything to do with the likes of you.” Her voice was ice, cutting through the air like a blade.Irene barely had time to process the words before the woman turned on her heel, ready to leave. Panic surged in Irene’s chest. She couldn’t let this moment slip away. Without thin

"Oh my God, Irene, what did you do this time?"Irene shot up from the bed, heart hammering as she took in her surroundings. The luxurious hotel room with its pristine white sheets, golden drapes, and the faint scent of expensive cologne was unfamiliar. Her dress lay crumpled on the floor, and panic surged through her. She scrambled to her feet, grabbing her dress and slipping it on. Where was her purse? Her money was in there. "Think, Irene. Think!"Flashes of last night flickered through her mind. The bar. The drinks. Snuggling against that stranger’s chest. "Oh, you pervert!" she whispered harshly to herself, mortified as the memories hit her. The man—his warmth, his strength—how she clung to him like some desperate drunk. She bent down, searching for her purse, and spotted the strap peeking out from under the bed. As she pulled it out, her head collided with the wooden bedpost. "Ouch!"Then it hit her. He had called her Giselle. He must have mistaken her for her doppelg

Irene jolted awake, her eyes darting around the unfamiliar room. The sterile scent of disinfectant hit her nose, and it took a moment for her vision to focus. She was lying in a hospital bed, the steady beeping of a heart monitor confirming what her aching body already knew—she was alive.Barely.Her body throbbed with pain, a dull ache pulsing through her chest, ribs, and limbs. Her mind, still swimming in murky confusion, tried to piece together what had happened.The water. The crash. The cold. The darkness.Her heart raced.She tried to sit up, but a sharp pain seized her ribs, forcing her back down with a gasp.“You should take it easy,” a cold, all-too-familiar voice said.Her head snapped to the side.Stefan.He stood at the corner of the room, arms folded, his expression unreadable. Dressed in black as always, he looked calm—far too calm for someone who’d just witnessed someone almost die.“What are you doing here?” she croaked.A smirk curled at the edge of his lips. “Is that

After the wedding, the newlyweds returned to the Carrington estate in stiff silence. The ride was quiet—Ryan leaned into his seat, eyes fixed on the tinted window, while Irene’s heart thudded wildly. She fiddled with her ring, still not used to the weight of it… or the name that came with it. Mrs. Carrington. It sounded foreign—like a title she’d stolen rather than earned.As the car curved around the long private drive, Irene’s breath caught. The estate wasn’t just large—it was breathtaking. A grand colonial-style mansion stood in the middle of carefully manicured lawns, trimmed hedges forming elegant patterns. A fountain with a marble sculpture danced at the center of the circular driveway, and ivory roses climbed the pillars that framed the entrance.She hadn’t had time to admire it the last time she came—she’d been too nervous then. But now, stepping out with her dress bunched at her feet and her emotions tightly coiled, she couldn’t ignore the opulence.A tall man in a crisp blac

The streets of her old neighborhood hadn’t changed much. Same cracked pavements. Same rusted lamp posts buzzing faintly. Irene stood still for a moment. Her heart ached, not with nostalgia, but with the heaviness of what she’d lost. She gripped the shopping bag tighter in her hand. She only wanted to drop the shopping bag off at the gate. Just a glimpse of her sister or her mother would do.But as she took a step forward, ready to cross the road, a hand yanked her backward with enough force to make her stumble, the bag slipping from her grasp and falling to the floor.“Aw—” the gasp caught in her throat as she looked up.Stefan.His jaw was clenched, eyes shadowed with fury. He looked nothing like the calm, calculated man he often presented himself as.“Do you know what the most stupid emotion in the world is?” he snarled. “Love.”“Rationality, logic, everything collapses when it comes to love. It ruins everything!” His voice dropped, but the venom in it didn’t.Irene blinked, lips q