Blackwater Falls Wedding Novels & Stories

After Claridge's wedding with Dior outside, Primark inside, itchy bride and itchy groom, 1001 roses, cheese confetti, and two buildings for one stroller... Rose Blackwood-Carter-Ashford, 20, and Leo Ashford-Blackwood-Carter, 22, were supposed to go on honeymoon.

That’s all beside the point. As I climb out of the van I can feel a little mist in the air. Curious, I walk a few steps around the van towards a great rushing sound and gasp, taking in the sight of the gigantic waterfall that plunges from a cliff face several stories above us. It’s absolutely breathtaking. “Whoaaa!” Ian shouts, running over towards the rail that separates the wedding facility from the plunging cataract. “That’s incredible!” “It’s so cool!” Alvin shouts, following him. “Mom! Can I go over it in a barrel!?”

Third POV The wedding of Sebastian Blackwood and Irene Murray was nothing short of spectacular. The private island venue had been transformed into a dreamscape of white roses, crystal chandeliers hanging from silk-draped pavilions, and soft golden lighting that made everything shimmer like something out of a fairy tale. The ocean whispered gently in the background, its waves providing a perfect natural soundtrack to the ceremony. Guests dressed in the finest designer attire filled the elegant seating area, their jewels catching the light as they watched Irene walk down the aisle.

“This is your wedding night—but not your black wedding. Tonight, you must satisfy your husband, quench his thirst. If you’re wise and want to keep your place in this house, you’ll do everything in your power to please him.” “Wait… what do you mean by black wedding?” I asked, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Grace’s expression shifted—her voice dropped to a whisper. “Your husband isn’t just a man. He’s a ruler. A king in this underworld. A black wedding is a sacred blood oath that binds two souls in the Mafia. It’s done only after the white wedding... but only if the bride proves herself worthy.” My mouth went dry. “Blood oath? And what if I don’t prove myself worthy?”

“You want to walk into crown Syndicate territory and hit a wedding celebration? Every Captain and Underboss will be there maybe we make it inside alive, but we won’t leave breathing.” Alexei laughed under his breath. “Who said anything about attacking the wedding itself?” He tilted the phone so we could all see the picture on the screen. “The bride spends the night before the ceremony at a hotel with the women in her family and the men celebrate somewhere else, easy access.” Sergei leaned forward, elbows on his knees and eyes bright with reckless excitement. “That’s insane.” “Exactly why it’ll work,” Alexei replied. I studied the details on the screen while Ivan dragged a hand over his face.

Everywhere I turn, there’s something about the wedding. TVs talk about it. Blogs write about it. Reporters stand outside the house. Every morning, when I step out, cameras flash in my face. Hailey Carter and Santino Blackwood, The Wedding of the Year. They make it sound beautiful, perfect, magical. But I know better. I know what kind of chains glitter under gold.

Any similarities of a real person, living or dead are purely coincidental. We all want a magical, ecstatic and exquisite church wedding. You're just thirteen yet you're already dreaming and planning your wedding day with the man of your life. Wearing the most elegant white bridal gown with a medium slit at the back, starting from the shoulder to an inch higher from your waist. The gown must fit your body to flaunt those curves. Hiring the best make-up artist in town to do the miracle. You are the queen. You are the star. Your parents will walk with you on the aisle as your groom waits for you at the altar. Family members and friends are invited to witness your magical day. As the priest dec

After the initial round of greetings, Allister gently guides me backstage to review the ceremony flow with the officiant. Inside the lounge awaits the full Blackwaters Family: Adolphus Blackwaters, Allister's uncle, clad in traditional attire, the regal Celine Blackwaters in a silk gown shimmering with priceless jewelry, and Grandma Regi, composed and elegant, but without a smile, unlike the others. My family soon joins them, and the two families exchange polite laughter as they confirm every detail to ensure the perfect union of their houses. As the ceremony is about to begin, Allister’s phone begins to ring incessantly. He keeps ending the call, and the caller keeps persisting.

Only now the groom was in a Council cell, the bride was screaming at lawyers, and the venue had been paid for in full, non-refundable. I had a better use for it. We rode to the pavilion with twenty Blackthorn wolves behind us. The place was deserted except for staff scrambling to cancel. White chairs in perfect rows. Archway dripping with roses. A massive ice sculpture of intertwined D & L melting in the sun. I walked straight down the aisle like I was the bride. Victor stayed at my back, silent support. At the altar I found what I was looking for, the custom arch, the unity candles, and, tucked under a chair, the wedding dress Lisa had bragged about for months. My dress, originally. She’d h

There In the corner of the page. Three months ago. Three months before I'd ever crashed that wedding. Three months before I'd ever heard the name Nero Blackwater. My hands started shaking. Outside, the music finally stopped. The pack was leaving. Giving up on the consummation. I stared at my own face in the drawing. "This wasn't an accident," I whispered.