Ainz Ooal Gown Novels & Stories

'What the hell? Where am I? Why can't I move my body?' The last thing she remember was wearing a blue gown to attend her brother's wedding. But why the hell she's in the hospital room? Who are these people calling her in a different name? Where was her family? Wait, who's that strange girl staring at her? "I am leaving. I can't live in this cruel world anymore" "Wait, who are you? Why am I here?" "I am sorry Catherine Davison. Here after you have to live as Katherine Flynn" With that she disappeared as smoke. What did she mean by that ‘I have to live as a Katherine Flynn?’ Catherine Davison life was totally changed upside down. It's true, it’s totally changed upside down.

I took leave to be the maid of honor at my best friend's wedding. The moment I landed, Rachel Wendt showered me with lavish gifts: the newest flagship model smartphone, designer perfume, and other branded gifts. "A little gift for you," Rachel said. "Even though I'm getting married, you're still the most important person in my life!" I was deeply moved. Early the next morning, I got up at dawn, changed into my maid of honor gown, and went to find her. Rachel was having her makeup done. When she saw me, she excitedly waved at me. But the moment I went in closer, her face instantly turned icy. "You tramp! Get the hell out of my wedding!" I froze on the spot.

Let's get this over with." Those were the longest words I'd heard him say ever since his entrance to the room. His hoarse voice which held no sign of emotion rumbled like a distant thunder in the large sitting room that was now occupied by his mother, Jane Jordan - the heiress of Jordan Jewelleries, the dark haired judge who sat by an oak table that had been placed in the center of the room for this purpose, Mother, and I , the I-know-nothing-about-this bride dressed in a knee-length lavender gown and silver stiletto heels, nothing befitting for a bride on her big day.  ... "And do you, Ashley, take Alexander to be your lawfully wedded husband?" I sucked in a sharp breath as I closed my eyes. "I do." My fate has been sealed. Just like that, I'm married to a man I know nothing about.

I gave Dante Valenti eight years of my life. When I got pregnant by accident, he called off our wedding the night before the ceremony. I rushed to the hotel and found the venue I had spent months decorating transformed into a baptism reception for his illegitimate son. Liliana Moretti wore the reception dress I had chosen. The old Don put a gold chain on her baby and acknowledged him as the heir. Dante had already registered his marriage to her. That day, I made three decisions. I terminated the pregnancy. I booked a one-way ticket out of the country. I swore I would never look back. Months later, he showed up at my door on his knees with a ring. I burned my 800-thousand-dollar wedding gown right in front of him. In the end, he tried to atone with his own death.

When poor dressmaker Leah Parker delivers a wedding gown to the powerful Grant family, she expects payment, not a trap. But the real bride, Olivia Grant, has vanished on her wedding day, and the Grants need someone to protect their billion-dollar alliance with cold CEO Daniel Cole. Forced to wear Olivia’s dress and marry in her name, Leah enters a dangerous contract marriage built on fear, lies, and hidden identity. Daniel has never met Olivia, but he quickly senses that his new wife is not the spoiled heiress he expected. She is too quiet, too kind, and too terrified of the family that claims to love her. As suspicion turns into protection, Daniel begins to uncover the mystery behind Olivia’s disappearance—and the truth that Leah was never chosen by accident. In a marriage that began as a mistake, Leah may become the only woman Daniel refuses to lose.

Emily Harlow never agreed to be sold on national television, until her mother signed her up for The Marriage Lottery, a ruthless show pairing society’s “undesirable” women with husbands willing to take them. Alone, in a torn gown, under blinding lights and a nation laughing, Emily opens her only offer and reads the name aloud. Damien William Hardy. The audience erupts in disbelief. A joke, they say. A mistake. Because what would a man like him ever want with a leftover woman? Damien Hardy did not choose Emily Harlow. Her presence is an intrusion into his plans, his reputation, his bloodline. He will break her, piece by piece, until he uncovers the secret she’s hiding. And yet… against all odds, she has claimed the most eligible man in the country. But can she keep him?

For five years, my fated mate, Alpha Kaelen and I have had 98 marking ceremonies. And every single time, his teeth would stop right at my neck. All because the Omega he claimed was "like a sister" to him always managed to faint at just the "right" moment. At the 99th ceremony, that Omega got "hurt" again. "I swear I'll complete the marking next time," Kaelen said, scooping up the other she-wolf without a backward glance. I burned the Luna gown I'd worn 99 times and changed back into my royal princess dress from the Moonshadow Realm. Then severed my mate bond and walked away without a second glance. It wasn't until searing pain hit Kaelen, and he crying for me to come back, that the Shaman coldly told him: "She is a true princess! And you were never worthy of her."

The night before our wedding, my fiancée let her so-called "best friend" butcher the gown my late mother had sewn, chopping it into a revealing mini dress. I rushed over with the ruined dress in my arms, ready to demand answers: only to catch their voices through the door: "Imagine him expecting me to wear something a dead woman stitched. What a curse!" Through the narrow gap, I saw my distant, frigid fiancée flushed with color, straddling his lap. "What we did at the bridal shop wasn't enough," she murmured. "Tomorrow, walking down the aisle in this tiny dress you made me, it'll be even more exhilarating." Their lips met. My hand froze against the door, and inside, something broke with a soundless crack. If she longed for thrills, I would grant her some.

On my wedding day, my groom's sister, Nadia Lawson, wears an elaborate ball gown and comes on stage to snatch the emcee's microphone. Before all the guests, she arrogantly says to me, "Can't you see the princess is here? Why didn't you curtsy and greet me? You deserve to be punished! Get on your knees and prostrate yourself before me as an apology!" My expression sours at her insolence. I turn around only to see the indulgent expressions on her parents' faces. The groom, Bowen Lawson, says dotingly, "We spoiled Nad silly since she was a child. You are her sister-in-law now. Don't make things hard for her." I am so mad that I can't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. The clown thinks she's a princess, asking me to kneel before her? Ridiculous.

On the day I tried on my wedding dress, a stranger burst into the VIP fitting room and slashed me with a knife. She tore my dress to shreds, her face twisted with rage. "A gold-digger like you doesn't deserve a dress this expensive!" The blade, soaked in sulfuric acid, pierced my abdomen, and I collapsed in agony. She grabbed my hair and slapped me, snarling, "Clarence promised to marry me! You're nothing but a homewrecker!" Blood stained my gown as the truth hit me. My boyfriend of seven years had been cheating on me. "Keep staring, huh? My man runs this city. I could kill you, and no one would touch me!" she taunted, smug as hell. With bloodied hands, I pulled out my phone and dialed my brother. "Chris, come get me from the bridal shop. And tell the Thompsons the engagement is off."