Lahat ng Kabanata ng THE ACCIDENTAL BRIDE: Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

Some girls dreamed of glass slippers and fairy tales. Luna Reyes? She just wanted food.Her stomach growled, loud and insistent, as she pressed her face against the window of Sterling Pavilion. Inside, lights shimmered like stars over tables heavy with food she couldn't even name. Golden chandeliers sparkled, and the hum of music and laughter drifted into the cool evening air."Just one plate," she murmured, tugging the thrift-shop wedding dress tighter around her frame. The faded lace scratched her skin, the bodice loose where it should’ve hugged her curves. "In and out. Nobody will notice."A side door hung open, a steady stream of servers passing through. Luna slipped inside, her heart hammering against her ribs as the warmth and scent of roasted meats, fresh bread, and wine washed over her.Workers in crisp black and white uniforms bustled around, too preoccupied to spare her a glance. Maybe they assumed she belonged. That thought made her want to laugh.She followed the scent of

Luna woke to sunlight streaming through the curtains. For a second, she forgot where she was. Then it all crashed back. The wedding. The contract. Grayson Vaughn. "Oh cramps," she groaned, burying her face in silk pillows. "What have I done?" A sharp knock interrupted her crisis. "Mrs. Vaughn?" Mrs. Patel's voice called. "Your schedule begins in thirty minutes." Luna sat bolt upright. "Schedule?" The door opened, and Mrs. Patel entered with two young women carrying garment bags and makeup cases. "Breakfast is on the balcony," she said, all business. "Emma will handle your hair, Sophia your makeup. The blue dress for this morning's brunch." "Brunch?" Luna's head spun. "With who?" "The Miyamoto delegation, of course. Your first public appearance as Mrs. Vaughn." Luna's stomach knotted. "Does Grayson know about this?" "Mr. Vaughn arranged it." Mrs. Patel checked her watch. "You have twenty-eight minutes." When they left, Luna stumbled to the bathroom—bigger than her old apa

The first week of Luna's life as Mrs. Vaughn passed in a blur of appearances, lessons, and strained silences. She'd mastered the basics of art restoration or at least faking it, which fork to use at formal meals, and how to pose for photographers while Grayson's hand rested possessively at her hip.What she had not mastered was how to unravel the enigma of the man she'd unknowingly married."Hold still," Emma muttered, pinning Luna's hair into a chic updo. "You have the charity auction tonight."Luna sighed, watching her transformation in the mirror. "Another night of pretending to be madly in love with the ice king.""I heard that," said Mrs. Patel, entering with a garment bag. "And I'd advise not calling him that in public.""I'm not stupid," Luna replied, though there was no spark in her words. Over the past week, she'd developed a peculiar fondness for Mrs. Patel's dry wit and Emma's gentle speech. They were the closest thing she had to friends in this golden cage."The Peterson C

Luna stood at her bedroom window, watching the city lights blur through the glass. The auction felt like a lifetime ago, though only hours had passed since Grayson had guided her through the mansion's front door, the Maria Santos painting carefully wrapped and following in a separate car.She'd managed to hold herself together during the ride home, even smiled when Grayson mentioned having the painting hung in the morning room where the light would showcase it best. But now, alone with her thoughts, the full weight of Damien's return crashed over her.I know where to find you now, Luna girl.His words echoed in her mind as she traced patterns on the cool glass. He'd found her once; he'd find her again. The question wasn't if, but when—and what he'd do next.A soft knock interrupted her thoughts. "Luna?" Mrs. Patel's gentle voice came through the door. "I brought you some tea.""Come in," Luna called, turning from the window.Mrs. Patel entered with a delicate tray—chamomile tea in fin

Chapter NineThe silence in the car was different this time—not the tense, careful quiet of their first weeks together, but something softer. Luna watched the city blur past through tinted windows, her hand still tingling from where Grayson had held it as they’d walked away from the park.“Your team knew exactly where to find those warrants,” she said quietly. She wasn’t ready to voice the larger weight of what had just happened.Grayson’s profile was sharp against the afternoon light. He didn’t look at her as he replied, “Marcus is thorough.”“How thorough?”Grayson paused, knuckles white against the steering wheel. “Thorough enough to know that Damien Kross has been using fake identities to evade law enforcement in four states. Thorough enough to connect him to a pattern of behavior that goes back years.”He took a breath. “Thorough enough to know that you weren’t his first victim.”Luna’s breath caught. “There were others?”“Rebecca Martinez in Phoenix, Bella Brown in Portland, Ama