All Chapters of The Chosen Bride: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Isabella“Miss Isabella,” Mabel walked into the library where I had been sitting for several hours, lost in the book I was reading.I looked up, I saw her hands on her hips, and smiled at her. She always scolded me about lounging sideways in my favorite reading chair, legs slung over the arm. She is old school and says it isn’t ‘ladylike.’“Yes?”Mabel shook her head, a small smile on her face, “Your father would like to speak to you,” she said, already turning to walk out before I could respond. Classic Mabel. I slid a bookmark into the pages, closed the book, and stood up, smoothing my skirt.“He’s in his office,” she called out as she walked toward the kitchen- already yelling at the cook before she even got there.I laughed because I love that old lady. She’s the mother I wish I had.Shaking off the thoughts before they go down the path they do so often when I think about all the other ways my life could be better, I took a deep breath and headed down the hallway to my father’s of

Isabella10, 11, 12, 13, 14. Turn. 1, 2, 3, 4…I had been pacing the length of my room, counting steps like it’s the only thing keeping me from losing it completely. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. What the hell was Aristide thinking? Did he even know yet?My phone rang and I jumped. “Fuck,” I breathed. I glanced at the screen on my nightstand. “Fuck,” I said again, softer this time.My hands trembled as I picked it up. “Aristide,” I whispered his name like it might break me. You can do this, I told myself. But what would I even say?I hit the answer button quickly, like waiting might make it worse. “Hello?” My voice barely came out above a whisper.A sigh came through the line. “Izzy?”“Ari,” I sigh.“You heard the news?”I let out a short, dry laugh. “Yeah.” I sat on the edge of my bed, trying to breathe normally. I didn’t know what I wanted to hear from him. I didn’t even know what I felt. But I did know one thing—if he said he wanted to marry my sister instead of me, it would h

BellaFriday came fast. Too fast in my opinion. For the last two days, my heart had been beating like I just got done running a marathon. This is why I don’t run. Not to back up what Gianna said about me though.I tried to convince Mabel that I was having a heart attack yesterday, but she laughed and said, “He must be as hot as everyone says,” before winking at me and walking away.Gianna had barged into my room this morning, holding a dress like it was a gift from God. I was half asleep, but I caught her saying something about Mother had picked it out for me to greet Aristide.I should have known better.I barely got it over my head before I realized that it was three sizes too small. I stood there in front of the mirror, stuck, feeling like the walls were closing in. I was just about to start crying when I heard the front door open and Mom and Gianna’s voices echoing up the stairs. I suddenly realized that the sooner I got downstairs, the sooner I would get to see Aristide.And God,

BellaI took a deep breath, staring into the mirror in front of me. My reflection looked calm, but I could feel the tremble in my hands as I smoothed down the front of my gown. The fabric shimmered under the soft lights—ivory lace over a structured silk bodice that hugged my curves in all the right places. The neckline was a soft, off-the-shoulder sweep, with the sleeves being sheer and featuring delicate floral appliqué that provided just enough coverage to make me feel confident. The skirt flowed from the waist in gentle layers, skimming over my hips and cascading down like a waterfall. It was elegant, romantic, and designed to celebrate my shape rather than hide it. I didn’t feel quite like myself, not entirely—but maybe that was the point. Maybe I wasn’t supposed to.Elena stood behind me, beaming with excitement. Her smile was wide and genuine. “I’m so excited we’re going to be sisters,” she told me, clapping her hands together. Her cheeks were flushed from all the running around

BellaWhen I woke up the next day and rolled over, I saw him. Aristide.He was lying on his back, one arm resting behind his head, the other stretched across the bed where I’d been. The sheet barely covered his hips, and his chest was bare, smooth, and golden in the morning light. There was a stillness to him in sleep, but it didn’t take away from the intensity that always radiated from him. Even at rest, he looked powerful—like a king temporarily off duty.I let my eyes trace him. The slope of his shoulders. The way his stomach dipped in that delicious V-shape, disappearing beneath the sheets. The dark stubble on his jaw gave him a rugged, slightly dangerous appearance.Thoughts of the night before had me blushing and thinking about what had happened.My first time.I hadn’t known what to expect. My mind had spiraled with possibilities, ranging from awkward and painful to overwhelming and out of my depth. What if it was uncomfortable? What if I disappointed him somehow? The uncertain