Anthony Bridgerton Novels & Stories

The hall was filled with elites from across the country, all eager to congratulate Racheal and see the woman who had made such an impact in the business world. As I scanned the room, my gaze landed on Juliet. Her expression was anything but pleasant; anger radiated from her. She was staring intently at someone, her countenance a storm brewing just beneath the surface. Curious, I shifted my position to follow her gaze, landing on Racheal's father, Mr. Houston. I could sense Juliet's unease from where I stood, her smile a mere mask for the rage simmering inside her.

She looked up and saw that the previously closed door had been flung open, and a silver-haired figure had burst in. It was Anthony. Wearing a bright red coat, he stood by the door, his handsome face brimming with excitement. His gaze swept across the room, immediately locking onto Diana, who was in the middle of her meal. His goddess... She was right there! "Anthony?" Ben blinked in surprise. "Weren't you supposed to be picking up the car? Why are you back?" "Something came up," Anthony replied curtly. He strode over, removing his gloves and tossing them aside as he went. Reaching Ben, he barely spared him a glance, instead, he forcefully yanked him out of his chair and flung him to the side

"And you'll be the most stunning bride New York has ever seen!" Stunning wasn't exactly how I felt. I felt like a character in a play I hadn't auditioned for – a play with stakes far higher than a bad review. A knock on the door sent a nervous jolt through me. "Come in," I called, bracing myself. It was Ethan, looking every bit the billionaire in a sharp tuxedo that seemed to mold itself to his broad frame. He didn't smile, but his eyes held a flicker of something that warmed me despite the formality of the situation.

I look at her emotionally charged face, the soft cheekbones and pursed lips, the way her nose seems to be tipped in red, before I comment, “You must be daft because Ian doesn’t think he’s just sex.” She reaches for the wine but I stop her before she does, “Throw that on me and I'll have my men throw you out.” Bridget’s rationality seems to win out on her anger because after glaring at me she takes the wine, leans back in her seat, and with legs crossed she starts to sip. It’s a struggle not to look at her face. Or the skin her dress is exposing. I want to curse the fact that Antonia has a strangely attractive friend. A woman so unlike her, and so much like something else that wanting her sho

It appeared as if the woman was trying to make her daughter try her luck at seducing him. Well, who wouldn't want their daughter to be? Anthony was among the list of the most eligible bachelor's in the city and added, he was the CEO of a multi million worth company. Ofcourse every single lady would want to try their luck at making him theirs, that was for every lady except her. "Glad you are awake now. Please dress up and leave my room" Anthony said rudely as he approached her from the window he had been standing at . He wanted to laugh when he saw the sneer that appeared on her face. Whatever it was she thought might have happened the previous night, he wanted to laugh his heart out just wa

Crouching right by the posterior of his bed, she picked her blazer, seeing herself out. And Grinch? He closes his eyes again—calm, loyal, and untouched. The door hisses shut behind her, and she storms down the corridor with unfinished war in her spine. As she turns, just at the corner of the corridor, she nearly collides with ANTONIO, just arriving. Dressed in a tailored black coat, collar raised, hands in pockets—shoes silent on the polished floor. His presence is wolf-like: elegant, dangerous, composed. Their eyes locked mid-step. A full second passes.

", staring at the man I was marrying. Alexander Hawke. I know almost nothing about him—his reputation precedes him, and the whispers I’ve heard from my father are far from reassuring. A man who thrives on control.And yet, here I am. His bride. Bound to him by duty, not by choice. I glance at him now. He stands by the window, looking out at the city skyline, his broad shoulders beneath the tailored suit tense. The dim light from the street below casts shadows across his sharp features, making him look even more imposing and untouchable.

He raised his hands in surrender and stood up. “Have fun.” he said before leaving the table. Mum smiled, satisfied, and reached out to smooth a nonexistent wrinkle from my sleeve. “You’re doing so well, Elizabeth. I’m so proud of you.” Oh Mother, how sacred it would be to hear those words when I was actually paired with who I wanted. Not long after, Anthony arrived dressed in monochrome blue tones - a fine knit layered under a structured coat. Polished without being stiff. We could just go ahead to replace the dictionary meanings of Classy, Polite and Charming, with Anthony Hart.

He placed a hand on the form before him and watched her like he was trying to develop some sort of foreign emotion like sympathy. “My brother,” she said finally.“Call Eli” He took down the information with clinical efficiency, as if the facts themselves were less important than the paperwork. Someone photographed her bandaged wrists, another noticed the paint under her fingernails and murmured theories when she tried to explain. When the door opened, a man filled the frame—tall, the kind of tall that made the ceilings feel lower. He wore a suit that clung to him like armor.Rain droplets beaded off his shoulders but he appeared unfazed as he approached her slowly but confidently.She had only

However, Ethan was nowhere to be found so I grabbed another glass form a passing waiter and retreated to a corner, choosing to judge the status of a person by their choice of jewelry or lack of one. “There’s not a better vantage point than a discreet corner.” The masculine scent announced his presence before his voice. Signature Noir. France’s most luxurious perfume but its wearer had a rather unforgettable British accent. I raised my head to look at the figure of a six foot something, sparkly brown eyes with the expression of one who was passionately enjoying the evening. “Anthony Manchester. Do you mind If I join you at your corner since you beat me to it?” I cocked my head upward, intrigu