Novel & Cerita Bridal Unscramble

I’m getting married, but my CEO fiancé, whom I had been engaged to for ten years, had no idea. Thanks to his new personal maid, the man has no time to spare for me. The two of them always shadowed one another, and they might as well be sleeping in the same bed. My fiancé even bought a yacht and brought her to the Arctic to see the aurora when she was in a bad mood, completely forgetting that we were supposed to be picking out wedding gowns that day. I spent the entire day waiting in that bridal shop, waiting for a man who would never show up. So I called my dad, “I’m marrying someone else.”

“Margaux is a gorgeous and confident girl, who had a beloved fiance, Lester. However, no one expected Lester would run away from their wedding. Maybe he was just in traffic or maybe his car broke down on the road. No one knows the reason. Lester was just disappeared in this way. Having no time to change her bridal dress, Margaux got into the car and tried to find her groom back. But her car was blocked by a handsome guy, Lawrence. Lawrence was eager to have an important meeting. But he was attracted by this crying beauty. All the on-lookers thought Lawrence was the runaway groom so they persuaded Lawrence to go back and get married to Margaux. Well, Lawrence shrugged and grinned, "Miss Runaway Bride, don't cry, I'm much better than your ex-fiance."

ISABELLA MONROE, HEIRESS TO THE MONROE FORTUNE FOUND NAKED WITH A MAN ON HER WEDDING DAY Isabella's bridal shower was supposed to be fun. Just her, her girls, and a night to celebrate. But the next morning, Isabella Monroe woke up sore, and naked… in a stranger’s bed. Her fiancé walked in, saw everything, and just like that… the wedding was over. Before she could even process it, her parents made a decision for her: marry him and save our family's reputation—the mysterious, dark, and impossibly wealthy stranger she’d woken up next to. Now, trapped in a marriage she never wanted, surrounded by power, desire, and temptation, Isabella has to figure out if she can survive Rafael Ashford… or if surrendering to him might be the only option.

Everything started when the oh-so-hot macho entertainer danced in front of the beautifully sizzling Tamara Davis on the night of her best friend's bridal shower. She wasn't the bride, but the man was intent on pleasing her all night! The next thing she knew, the supposed just-for-fun night out with her friends turned out to be a night of the blazing fire she shared with this sexy male stripper when the two of them ended up on the bed, and they brought each other to their own kind of paradise. Tamara thought that whatever was left on that night would remain that night. She was wrong, though. Fate intervened, rekindling their flame when they unexpectedly met again one sunny day. And she discovered that the man she had sex with was about to become her new boss!

On the eve of my wedding, my wife, Sharon Moonstone, drugged me and knocked me unconscious. She let her first love, Aaron Miller, take my place as the groom, standing beside her as they held the wedding that was supposed to belong to both of us. By the time I finally found them, they had already gone into the bridal suite and consummated their marriage. When I demanded answers, Sharon did not show a trace of guilt. "You live off me. You'd better behave. Make a scene, and we'll divorce." My heart went cold. I handed her the divorce papers, but she barely looked at them. "Looks like you've improved," she said lightly. "At least you know a performance should be convincing from start to finish."

Damian Graves and I had been together for ten years, and he was perfect in every way. He was handsome, successful, and driven, except for one thing. He never missed a chance to cut me down. I placed second in the competition instead of first, and he said I "wasn't smart enough." I finally earned my first paycheck from writing, and he dismissed it as "completely worthless." Later, standing in the bridal shop, Damian looked me up and down in my wedding dress and told me my figure was not good enough, that I did not look anything like a bride should. Something in me snapped. For the first time in ten years, I screamed at him. "If I'm not good enough for you, why are you even marrying me?"

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."

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.

Fedora Smith was done with love. Finished. Buried. Betrayal had ripped out her heart and torched it—her boyfriend of four years and her best friend of twenty-five caught pants down on the very anniversary sheets she gifted him. And their excuses? “You’re not attractive anymore.” “You took too long to marry him.” Fine. If love was a game, she was rewriting the rules. Now, she runs The Bridal Fix, an elite agency providing fake marriages for a steep price—rent-a-bride services for men needing to fool their families, secure an inheritance, or stage the perfect breakup. Fifteen weddings, fifteen divorces—no strings, no mess. Just business. Until Judah Carlstone. He hires her like the rest—one contract, one wedding, one payday. But Judah asks too many questions. Looks at her too long. And when he smirks and says— "Tell me, Fedora… how does it feel to say ‘I do’ and not mean it?" For the first time in years, she has no answer. Because this was never supposed to feel real.

" Where is His Majesty?" I asked sharply, my voice nonchalant, The attendees who were standing in the bridal suite, snickered, " Did you think His Majesty would attend a lowly person like you? You are just another subject for his entertainment. Wait, until you are summoned. His Majesty doesn't like Omegas like you." This wasn't the last thing that I was told before I was abandoned in a very secluded Packhouse with nothing but a guard who barely protected my place. How fun! A new addition to my excellent life. I was born Omega. I mean, I was Born-Omega. I had no idea how this term actually worked. Just because my Wolf was smaller, weaker, they called me that. And in the Pack of Strong Warriors and soldiers, being an Omega meant I was cursed by Moon Goddess, neglected by all. So being a Lycan's Luna meant immediately death for someone like me.