Who Designed Amy'S Wedding Dress In Secret Life?

“Sign the papers, and don’t come back.” Those were the last words Celeste heard from her cold, heartless husband—the man she was forced to marry in exchange for her family’s survival. She thought it was just a deal: marry Killian Hart, play the role of the perfect wife, and disappear when the contract ended. But somewhere between the lonely nights and stolen glances, she made the mistake of falling for him... while he spent every waking moment with another woman. Until the night she found out she was pregnant. Shattered and humiliated, Celeste vanished without a trace, determined to raise their child alone—far away from the lies, betrayal, and the man who never wanted her in the first place. But five years later, fate drags her back to the city she swore she’d never return to. And this time, she’s not the helpless bride in a wedding dress. This time, she’s stronger. Smarter. And she has a daughter who looks just like him. But Killian Hart doesn’t do second chances—and when he sees the child she tried to hide, the ruthless CEO declares war. “I let you go once. I won’t make the same mistake again.” In a world full of secrets, enemies in disguise, and buried truths, can Celeste protect her child—and her heart—from the man who once broke it?

On my wedding day, Ethan Westbrook's ex-girlfriend sent word that she was terminally ill. Her dying wish was to wear a wedding dress once in her life. Ethan locked me in the waiting room while he prepared to hold the ceremony with her instead of me to fulfill this wish. I heard his impatient voice through the door as he said to me, "Can't you show some compassion? She's dying. What's wrong with granting her one final wish?" Later, the guy next door who had carried a torch for me for years climbed to the rooftop and begged me to marry him. Ethan stared at me with bloodshot eyes. "Are you really going to throw away our seven-year relationship just for him?" I brushed his hand away. "Should I just let him die? It's only a marriage certificate. Where's your compassion now?"

I was with Marco, the New York Mafia heir, for seven years. He never told his family about me. But when I walked in on a wedding rehearsal and saw the groom embracing the bride-to-be. It was Marco! "Her fiancé's held up in Italy. I'm just a stand-in," he told me, but his eyes never left her. "You're the best wedding planner in New York. This wedding has to be flawless." But I saw something in his eyes I'd never seen before. A possessiveness that bordered on resentment. Isabella, the bride, hated every idea I had for her. In the end, Marco told me to give her the wedding I'd spent five years designing for myself. "Our wedding can wait. I'll give you something bigger, I promise. It's just a plan, Sophia. It's what you do. Giving it to a client should be easy, right?" He didn't know. It wasn't just a plan. It was my dying wish. In the end, I gave him what he wanted, quietly preparing to die. Later, he went mad, kidnapping the world’s best doctors—risking a global manhunt—all to save me.

The day before the wedding, I go to the bridal shop to pick up my custom wedding dress. The clerk informs me apologetically, "I'm sorry, Ms. Stone. Yesterday, a woman called Ms. Lovelett came and picked up your dress." My best friend, Sherry Lancelot, suddenly remembers something. "Isn't that the surname of your fiance's secretary? He's so thoughtful. He had your dress picked up in advance for you." But in the next second, Mary Lovelett posts a social media update. In her photo, she is wearing my one-of-a-kind custom wedding dress that is worth hundreds of millions and posing coquettishly in front of the camera. The caption reads, "Zachary is the best boss in the world. I casually said I wanted to take some portraits. He generously bought me a globally limited outfit for a photoshoot so that I can take the photos to my heart's desire!" I look at the post and reply coldly, "That's the wedding dress I personally chose for myself. Since when did it become your photoshoot outfit?" The post is deleted instantly. My fiance, Zachary Everdon, calls me angrily. "What nonsense comment was that? I just lent your stupid dress to Mary for a bit. It's a cheap, one-time thing anyway. I can buy you a dozen more to make up for it." I let out a cold laugh and record the call. Then, I send him a screenshot of the 200 million dollars purchase record. I say, "Sure. Will you pay by check or by direct transfer? Hurry up. Once you pay, we're calling off the engagement."

Gigi Geffrey’s life was about to change and she had no idea about it. Everything was perfectly planned by her, she had the best grades she could ever dream of, an amazing group of friends, and the perfect body. She thought she has everything worked out until she returns to her hometown after three years only to find out she still has a lot of things to figure out.With a terrible past behind her and a big mistake she made before leaving, Gigi only wants to make things up with the only person she truly cared about but she receives a cold slap in the face when she finds out this person was not willing to forgive her easily.Will she be able to make things up with the person she loved the most on Earth? Would she be able to finally explain why she left Illinois in the first place?Content tags: +16, explicit language, LGBTQ+Dress is created by Candela Schneer, an eGlobal Creative Publishing Signed Author.

For five years, I have seen Leo Belmonte—the Don’s heir—as the only light in my life. On the day of my wedding dress fitting, he smiled and told me I was only a stand-in for his untouchable first love, Mia. Now that the real thing was back, I was supposed to step aside—go underground, follow my mother's path, and be somebody's mistress like she had been. The bridal fastenings cut my palms bloody, and all he cared about was the dress. His precious Mia ran me down on the highway in her car, and he warned me not to call the police—held my mother's ashes over my head to keep me in line. When the whole internet was calling me a homewrecker, it was him who nailed me to the pillar of shame with his own hands. The night I finally gave up, I boarded the Deluca family's private helicopter. That was when they learned the truth—I was no homeless bastard daughter. I was the only heir the most powerful Don in Europe had been searching for all these years. Once, I saw him as my light. Now he kneels at my feet and begs forgiveness, and all I feel is disgust. One day soon, I would stand at the top of the underworld—somewhere he could never reach again.