Bridgerton Book The Duke And I Mga Nobela at Kwento

I pressed my forehead against the cold glass and closed my eyes. Tomorrow I would become Ivy Vale. Tomorrow I would belong to a killer. Tomorrow I would start counting down the days until I died. The wedding came. It was exactly as terrible as I expected. The library was cold and dark. The priest looked like he wanted to be anywhere else. The only witness was Marcus, Dorian's second-in-command, who watched me with something that might have been pity. And Dorian. He stood at the front of the room in his black suit, his gray eyes fixed somewhere above my head. He still didn't look at me. Not once.

𝘾𝙖𝙥𝙞𝙩𝙤𝙡𝙤 𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙢𝙤 𓆙 ꧁꧂ Sɪsᴛᴇʀ ɪɴ ʟᴀᴡ ꧁꧂ Today was a big day, in the Windsor's Dynasty Kingdom, the most powerful kingdom of all times. A big ceremony was occurring, on this glorious summer day. It was the marriage ceremony of Prince Luciano , the first child of the Queen and King of the Windsor Dynasty kingdom, and Princess Angel, the one and only child of the queen and king of the Romanov's Dynasty Kingdom. After many years, the castle was filled with joy and euphoria. Everyone were gathered together, celebrating and enjoying their time with each other side. *the bride's room*

I want her to know how much I want her and want to be with her, but I don’t want to scare her off. “What were you reading on the balcony?” I asked her. “Just a romance book,” she replied. “It’s about a mafia princess who falls in love with a guy in the mafia, but she’s betrothed to someone else. It’s very well written.” “Sounds like a great love story. One you could tell your kids,” I smirked. “Well, probably not all the violence and sex,” Isabella giggled. “True,” I chuckled. “What are you doing tomorrow?” I probed.

She said, looking up at him in painful disbelief. Duke leaned over the doorframe and crossed his hands on his chest. “I don’t give a fuck what you think of yourself. Scram, Minsi. I do not ever wish to see you again.” Duke rasped. Minsi spared him a last glance before picking herself up and starting to walk out of the room with a shattered heart and only searing pain escorting her out.

When I looked in the mirror—hair curled, pinned with golden thorns, lips painted the exact shade of revenge—I didn't look like Lady Abby MacMayer, ex-victim of everyone's crap. I looked like the main character. And then… the mansion doorbell rang. “Oh gods,” Anita squeaked, already peeking through the curtains like a nosy squirrel. “It’s him,” Norma whispered like she was announcing a royal execution. “The Duke. In red. Matching red.” I froze. “Wait. He matched me?” “He matched you,” my butler Renato confirmed, appearing like a proud dad ghost. “Said the Queen sent it.” Oh. Of course she did.

“I’m sorry if I answered even though I was not being asked but, we only talked about the splendid interior of your house, Your Grace.” Phew! I calmed down the sea with huge tidal waves! “Dame Bethany was right! And I only complained to her how I wanted to retire as the Duchess of this house!” The Duke grabbed my left hand and said, “Let’s go, Beth. Stay away from suspicious people.” Were they connected by blood... or by hatred?

Duke Alexander eyed Alessandra suspiciously who just beamed innocently at him. But it did not fool him. Since the moment he met her, he had known the manipulative soul lay behind her innocent smile. “The duke and duchess of Terrence duchy were murdered,” Alexander said with a smile. “Since the young duchess is comparing the two incidents, I am even more curious as to what happened to the Maximillan duchess and her family.”

"I bet she will. It would take longer for the duke to get tired of her if she's really that beautiful." "I'm afraid that's not true. It's been a while and he is beginning to lose interest in her for a new mistress, that notorious widow Amanda Chapman. Yesterday he didn't even bother to introduce her to the household, and he left her to visit that dairy slut on their wedding night."

He slowly undoes her binds and pulls a blanket over her naked body. “It will only get worse in the coming months.” Iriana’s stern voice comes from behind him. She sped towards the Duke’s chamber as soon as she received the summons. “You should have mated with her,” she goes on. “She might have hated you for it but her suffering would have ended. With time, she would have forgiven you.” “I could not forgive myself if I did that,” Dmitri murmurs, stroking Roseanne’s unconscious figure. Iriana studies the Duke carefully. He is one mystery she can never solve. Sometimes he is ruthless and cold, sometimes he is mischievous and caring.

“Olivia Reign. Your bride-to-be. You have to come with me to meet her in Reign mansion two days from now.” Duke takes the photo from his father’s hand before speaking. “She looks just like her,” he whispered. Edmond raised an eyebrow as he asked, “Have you met her?” “No,” Duke quickly answered, before turning his gaze outside the tinted window. “But the woman...” The woman is not on the other side of the road anymore. “Woman?”