How Does The Heaviest Dress End?

For five years, Jessie Moore suppressed her personality, wore clothes she hated, and hid her staggering wealth. She did it all for one reason: to prove to her mother that true love could exist without a billion-dollar price tag. But on the day they were supposed to register their marriage, her boyfriend, Allen Walker, didn't show up. When Jessie went to find him, she didn't find an apology. She found a celebration. Allen was toasted by his friends for finally escaping "the fat girl" to get engaged to a "proper" socialite. “Take this million-dollar cheque and get out of my sight," Allen sneered, tossing the paper at her feet. Jessie didn't cry. She threw wine in his face, tore the cheque to pieces, and walked out—straight into the arms of the city’s most powerful, icy, and untouchable man: Stephen Harrington. Stephen is her best friend’s brother and a CEO who has never spared a second glance for any woman. He needs a wife to stop his family’s meddling; Jessie needs a husband to satisfy her mother’s inheritance demands. It was supposed to be a cold business deal. No feelings. No mess. But as Jessie returns to the Moore Empire to reclaim her throne, she realises the "Icy CEO" is anything but cold behind closed doors. And when Allen discovers the "penniless" girl he dumped is the very heiress he’s desperate to sign a contract with, he comes crawling back on his knees. He’s too late. “You had your chance, Allen.” Jessie smiles, leaning into Stephen's possessive embrace. “Now, I’m the one calling the shots.” Now Jessie is reclaiming everything that belonged to her…including the heart of the icy CEO.

A deep bone-melting groan vibrates from his chest. “I want to see you malyshka.Every inch of you.”  I shiver in anticipation as his fingers trail down my back, lowering the zipper of my dress, the fabric pooling at my waist. My tits come into view as cool air kisses my bare skin. His sharp intake of breath makes my stomach flip.  “Damn,” the word is rough, almost reverent as his large hand cups my left tit, squeezing softly. “They look even better than I had imagined.” His grip tightens slightly.   “A perfect fit for my hands.” ☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎ Serafina had only one dream: to take center stage at the New York Opera. But if wishes were horses, even beggars would have a ride. Thrown into an arranged marriage, She is determined to hate him but soon discovers that there’s a thin line between love and hate. Adriko has no use for love. His focus is power, his goal is revenge.But what do you do when your greatest threat is your most sinful desire? A pawn in the game… A Bride for a truce…

On the day I went to try on my wedding dress, Enzo had said he would come with me—but he never showed up. The train of the gown was too long. I stood alone in front of the mirror, bending over again and again to fix it more than a dozen times. The third time I stepped on the hem, my phone finally buzzed. 'Natalie just came back and isn't used to the weather here. I'll go pick her up. You try on the dress first.' The next second, a new post popped up on social media. Natalie had uploaded a photo. In it, Enzo was crouched in front of her, one hand wrapped around her slender ankle as he carefully fastened the strap of her high heels. The caption was only one line. 'He still couldn't bear to let me bend down.' When I tapped into the post, I saw that Enzo had already liked it. The bridal assistant sensed the shift in the air and tried to comfort me in a low voice. "Ms. Blackwood, Mr. Beck really cares about you. He was worried you might secretly diet and hurt your health, so he specifically told us not to alter the waistline any further." I smiled. He cared about me, yes. But his care had never stopped him from favoring someone else. I lowered my head and looked at the wedding dress on my body. Then it suddenly struck me. The thing that did not fit had never been the dress. It was this wedding.

On the day of my wedding, my senior military officer fiance took off the wedding dress I had designed myself. “You know that Crystal got hurt and can’t have children. She won’t be able to get married. Lend her your wedding dress so she can experience what it’s like to get married.” I was stunned in place, but Jordan Langford was already slipping off my dress. “We’re just going to do a wedding rehearsal so she can have the experience. Then, I’ll come home and get you, and we can have our wedding.” I looked at him, flabbergasted. I could not believe that he could say such a thing on such an important day. Jordan helped Crystal into the dress before patting me on the head and saying comfortingly, “It’s just a ceremony. You’re the woman I want for my wife. Don’t think too hard about it.” After that, he left with Crystal in the dozen-car-strong motorcade while I waited at home. Jordan was a senior military officer, while Crystal had been an army medic. Because of an injury that made her lose the ability to have children, Jordan was giving her my wedding. Tears poured down my face, and I felt my heart go cold. I bought a plane ticket back home and left without telling anyone. If that was Jordan’s choice, then I would not marry him.

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?"

When American engineer Evan Hart arrives in Rome, he expects worn stones, ancient architecture, and a chance to quietly rethink his failing marriage. He doesn’t expect Livia Moretti—the enigmatic archivist whose fragile intensity pulls him into a slow-burning, dangerous affair he never meant to start. Livia is brilliant, secretive, and a little broken… and Evan can’t stay away. But when he finally tells his wife Leah he wants a separation, she collapses, claiming she’s been diagnosed with a devastating neurological disease. Overnight, Evan’s guilt becomes a trap. Then Livia disappears without a trace. Anonymous photographs of him and Livia arrive in the mail. A stranger begins watching his apartment. And Leah—sweet, steady Leah—starts behaving in ways he can’t explain. When Evan finds hidden documents and photographs connecting the two women in his life, he follows a clue to a remote coastal village, where he learns Livia once lived under a different name… and may have been running from something far darker than heartbreak. As Evan digs deeper, he uncovers the edge of a conspiracy built on identity, memory, and manipulation—one determined to keep its secrets buried. Someone is pulling strings. Someone is rewriting the truth. And someone wants Evan to stop asking questions. Caught between a wife he no longer understands and a lover who may not be who she claimed to be, Evan is forced to confront the one question he never thought to ask: If the women in his life are wearing borrowed identities… then who has been shaping his? In a story of seduction, deception, and emotional obsession, All the Names She Wore explores the dangerous terrain between love and control—and what happens when the truth becomes the most terrifying lie of all.