A Vengeful Bride Chinese Novel Novels & Stories

“But we’re finally real.” I looked out at the sea again, at the life we chose, the battles we survived. I once thought vengeance would set me free. But it wasn’t vengeance that gave me peace. It was love. Hard-won. Imperfect. And absolutely mine. — *Elena Montrose Crest* AUTHOR’S NOTE From the Desk of Enerst Brooks - The Vengetful Bride Creator When “The CEO’s Vengeful Bride” began, it wasn’t just a story about power plays or cold-hearted revenge. It was about a woman who lost everything and dared to come back for more than justice. She came back for herself.

"Get on your knees. Apologize to Celeste. Or the wedding is off." My whole body went rigid. I met his gaze, pure hatred burning behind my eyes. "No." His temper exploded. He grabbed my collar and kicked my legs out from under me. My knees hit the hardwood with a sickening crack of pain. I tried to push myself up, but his hand closed around my throat, shoving me back down. "Apologize, or I call everything off right now!" A familiar, primal terror seized me—flashbacks of the violence from my last life crashing down.

‎Grace stared ahead. ‎She thought of the name she no longer used. ‎The life she no longer had. ‎The grave she never got to visit. ‎She did not come back for revenge driven by anger. ‎She came back because the truth had been buried for too long. ‎Nathaniel checked his phone, already moving on to the next crisis. He did not notice the way Grace’s fingers tightened briefly in her lap. ‎He did not see the quiet resolve in her eyes. ‎To him, this marriage was temporary. Controlled.

I opened one. There I was — my face flushed, tears streaming, standing in front of the ballroom entrance, mouth half‑open, taking a step back from Ethan and Vanessa. Behind me, the massive marquee: Emerson Grand Ballroom — Wedding Rehearsal. The caption below read: “She found out live. The bride who lost her groom today.” Another post: “#VanessaWins #ScarlettOut” with a video clip: me, voice trembling, “What do you mean, marrying her? You promised—” My words cut off. The video ended with Ethan’s blank stare and Vanessa’s small, cold laugh.

He helped me back into the car there were brief silences till we got home. Selene was already waiting patiently at the balcony. Look who we have here, our lovely runaway bride . How could you do such a thing Aria? Sometimes I wonder if you know the Consequences of your actions. Enough of your nonesense Selene. You don’t have any business with this. I slammed back. I got back to my room feeling so embarrassed. I wish I had a gun I would have shot right back at Selene and as for Damian making him die slowly would be my greatest comeback I thought.

I showered quietly, warm water running down my skin as my thoughts drifted. Tomorrow would be the start of something new. Not the timid girl who begged for love. Not the broken bride who was betrayed. But the woman who would rise — and make everyone who hurt her pay.

Then came the distant wail of sirens, growing louder by the second. Amelia’s heart stopped. She turned and saw him. Her face went pale, eyes wide with horror. “No… not him! The man I love!” she screamed, tears spilling down her cheeks. ⸻ And that’s a wrap, my wonderful readers! 🎉 The Revenge of the Betrayed Bride has taken you on a wild ride of betrayal, revenge, romance, and jaw-dropping cliffhangers. Thank you for reading the story continues in Book Two: The Blood-Stained Vow ~The Return of the Betrayed Heiress.

“My men don’t leave survivors. Rage filled her like hot metal, burning away her fear. She slammed her knee into him with all her strength, but he blocked it easily. The bastard had always been faster. “Get your fucking hands off me, you psychotic piece of shit!” “Language,my lady . That’s no way for a bride to speak to her groom.” The words hit her like a brick. “What the hell did you just say? Felix grinned, sharp and dangerous. “Congratulations, Muna. You’re getting married. To me. Tomorrow night “Over my dead fucking body.” “That can be arranged.” He pulled out his phone, showing her a photo that froze her blood. Her mother, Isabella, sitting in a luxurious prison cell. Alive, but captive