Bridgerton Wattpad Novels & Stories

She gushed. I looked up to see Zach smile tenderly at his wife. "I'm glad you're excited honey." He murmured, covering her hand with his and squeezing it lightly. My eyes watered at the sight. How could they do this to me? They had the love they wanted. The love I wanted. But they made it impossible for me to have it. A stray tear slipped from my eyes and I wiped it off quickly. Another came dribbling down and then another. "Oh my God, is she crying?" Brenda gasped, staring at me in disgust.

"I sure did miss you." Stepping closer to her, I open the top few buttons of her shirt. The silk fabric beneath it reveals a black bra with intricately embroidered red and pink poppies on the cups. It's the one I picked out for her alongside her work clothes the first night I had invited her back to my house. I can't believe she's wearing it today. A steady rush of blood flows to my manhood, making me feel hot and flush with my own arousal. I can't hold back anymore.

I hate everything about this. "Lucien! Darling!" A woman in diamonds swoops toward us. "And this must be your mysterious bride." He shifts into charm effortlessly. "Victoria Worthington, meet my wife, Mara." Victoria's smile doesn't reach her eyes. "How romantic. Tell me, how did you two meet?" "At a charity gala," I say smoothly. "I was working. He was insufferable." Lucien's fingers press warningly against my waist. Victoria laughs like I've said something delightful. "Oh, he's always insufferable. That's his charm." She leans closer, voice dropping conspiratorially. "Between us, dear, half the women here wanted to trap him. How did you manage it?"

"He didn't just fuck me, Bridge. He took everything." "Start from the beginning," Bridget commanded, her voice hushed now, intense. "The folder hit the floor, right? I know that project was the only thing between you and him. What did he do? Did he make the first move?" I slumped back against the pillows, my body feeling heavy and drained. "He didn't wait. He just... he hoisted me onto the desk. One minute I was explaining the footnotes, and the next, the folder was gone and his hands were under my thighs. It was so fast, Bridge. I didn't even have time to think 'no' before my body was already saying 'yes.'"

Hazel could only nod, though doubt filled her heart. Theo said nothing more. He simply turned and ascended the grand spiral staircase with effortless grace, leaving Hazel standing alone. The grand mansion’s air felt suffocating. Holding her breath, Hazel realized one thing: In this place that looked like paradise, hell had just begun. The night passed without pause, yet Hazel couldn’t close her eyes even for a second. The room prepared for her was magnificent—a canopy bed with pristine white silk sheets, polished wooden furniture, and a balcony overlooking the vast, softly lit garden.

Her stepmother wouldn't let her live in peace, especially after Evelyn had run away from her wedding. Everyone passing by stared at Evelyn, finding it strange that she was wearing a shabby, dirty, and wet wedding dress. However, Evelyn didn't care about their stares. She didn't care what they thought. She took out the wallet she had retrieved from the man's trouser pocket and looked at his identification card. "Benedict Easton..." Evelyn murmured the man's name. "Easton? Is he related to the Easton Group company?" She was familiar with the name of that famous company, a very well-known company in her country. But she didn't know who this Benedict was. Was he a member of the Easton family?

“Scarlett, there are things you don’t know about your fiancé. Or about me.” My throat tightened. “Then tell me.” He smiled, faint but dangerous. “I will. But you might not like the answer.” He reached into his jacket, pulled out a folded sheet of paper, and handed it to me. I unfolded it — and froze. It was a bank statement. My name at the top. A transaction from a year ago. Half a million dollars wired to E. Blake Holdings. From my account. I looked up, voice breaking. “This can’t be real.”

"What's the first?" His lips curved slightly. "Realizing my substitute bride was never a substitute at all." My heart stuttered. Before I could respond, his phone buzzed. He glanced at it, his expression hardening. "Adrian Blake just texted you," he said coolly, holding up my phone. "He wants to meet tonight." Heat rushed to my face. "You went through my phone?" "I'm protecting my investment." He handed it back. "Tell him you're bringing someone."

--- I couldn’t bring myself to turn back. Part of me almost wanted to believe him. Back in my room, I scoured through my old copy of *Wuthering Heights,* hoping to find some distraction. It didn’t work. My gaze drifted to the door and the hallway beyond it, wondering if this was far from over. I curled up on the bed, clutching the book as if it could shield me from what lay ahead. Outside, the wind picked up, and a distant rumble of thunder rolled in. A storm was on the way.

He with his. Two broken people, hiding from the world in an old study filled with forgotten truths. But wasn't he suffering more than I was? A cold billionaire, that was all he was. No peace, no love, no one to call his. Underneath the facade, everything would crumble. He looked like he was on the edge. I tightened my grip around the hem of my dress. I was the one who drove him to the edge of the bridge. He'd said he loved me, how did I repay him?