Bride And Prejudice Reviews Novels & Stories

Her hips penciled like they would pierce the cloth and get out of it. They look really beautiful in the uniform. They walked back to meet the woman that was waiting for them in front of her room. She led them to the kitchen. All eyes fell on them immediately they entered the kitchen and the maids there started murmuring. "Gosh! Why do they look like fallen angels" "Yes, beautiful and with curves" "Fallen angel my foot, they look nothing near beautiful," Enola scoffed at the person that said this. "That's jealousy right there,"

Sofia was sitting in a chair, while a thousand people arranged her hair, her nails, makeup, and dress her. Riya paced back and forth, adjusting the details of the party. Sofia wanted something simple, but Vernon wanted something big, as she knew that the party was more important to Vernon, she left the marriage in his hands. "It's going to come out in every magazine," he said. "the most handsome businessman marry with the beautiful, empowered wife" Sofia raises one eyebrow. "Are you sure they'll call you the most handsome?" Sofia laughed. "Sure, why not?"

"Well, it's marked obligatory. It cannot be changed. And also our marriage is real, we are Betrothed remember? The only thing is we are getting divorced after a year " I sigh and shake my head. "I'm not ready Hunt" I say. "Well, I don't think I like that nickname and... ." he trailed and took some big book from his drawer. "I got this for you, I know you might be bored doing nothing. This will keep you busy " "Novels? " I ask and collected them from him. "Yes, romantic novels, I know girls love to read this type of books " "Sorry to burst your bubble, but I don't " I say and opened one titled "Professional slut "

"This is impossible!" Lana's voice shifted in pitch as she gazed at the wedding invitation. "You're... really getting married? Cruz! You went ahead and got a marriage license with her without letting me know? And you even altered the name? You... You've gone too far!" Lana's eyes quickly turned red. Tears swirled in her eyes like she was in extreme distress. I was completely speechless, thinking, 'This woman must have graduated from an acting school! It's a pity she didn't become an actress.' '

(Sienna) My phone had forty-seven notifications. Then fifty-two. Then sixty, in the time it took me to process that number. The first thing I saw was a headline. SWIFT SCANDAL: Billionaire dumps bride at altar for her SISTER — and we have the receipts. Below it, grainy but unmistakable: a hotel corridor. A man pressing a woman against a wall. His hand in her hair. Her hands at his shirt. Me. Six weeks ago. Heathrow.

Her white hair pulled back into a braid. ‘Well, you decided to meet with us,’ her tone is harsh and scolding. ‘My apologies,’ I bow my head before kneeling slowly with respect to one so ancient, ‘the wedding was inescapable.’ ‘Reckless,’ she snaps the word, her gaze like a cold flint. ‘Every day you spent at your feast, the border bled. We are on the precipice of a slaughter and you were busy with satin and vows. Do our plans still hold, or has the crown made you as weak as Adulphus?’

Adrian Cross smiled for the cameras like a man who had just conquered the world. Beside him stood Elena Langford, glowing beneath the flashes of expensive cameras and media attention, every inch the perfect rich man’s bride. The internet was obsessed already. Business blogs called it the union of the year. Investors called it strategic. The public called it romantic. I called it predictable. A humorless smile tugged briefly at my lips before disappearing just as quickly. Adrian had always been ambitious, but the problem with ambitious men was that they eventually confused greed for intelligence. Marrying Leonard Langford’s daughter was not love. It was business. A move. A transaction wrappe

He tilted my face up toward his with a touch so gentle it did not match anything else about him, and for one long second I forgot how to breathe. He was so close I could see the faint shadow of stubble along his jaw. I could see a thin pale scar running just under his lower lip. I could smell him. Something dark and clean. Smoke and pine and something else I did not have a name for. His thumb brushed across the corner of my mouth. "Look at you," he murmured. "Trembling like a leaf. Did no one ever tell you, little bride, that running only makes the wolf hungrier?"

The rain came down like ash, soft and constant, whispering secrets only the dead could hear. I stood by the window of the east wing, staring into the fog that curled along the Forger estate’s hedges. Somewhere beyond those walls, I used to believe freedom lived. But now? Freedom wore silk gloves and a diamond ring. “Do you want to wear white?” Travis’s voice broke through my thoughts. He stood behind me in a black shirt, sleeves rolled up, his tie undone. Tired. Beautiful. Doomed. “Ironic, don’t you think?” I murmured. “White’s for purity. And this marriage is anything but.”

It looks very easy. "It's better if you're in the carriage so you can take small naps." "Let me remind you. I'm not coming to travel. I'm coming so I can help." He sighed. "Yes, of course." "So why I am receiving special treatment here? I can ride a horse too!" "Have you even tried it before?" he asked with a mocking tone. "No?" He smirked. "See. You have no experience in handling horses. So why would you just accept the privilege of being in a carriage? Would that hurt your pride, my lovely bride?"