Bridget Jones Novels & Stories

Then, thinking her mom was calling, she headed downstairs. Her feet barely touched the ground floor when the TV screen flickered to life, blaring the 10am news in urgent, pulsing tones. "Tragedy has struck the fashion world. Christian Bridges, renowned model, heir to the Bridges fashion empire, and Vesper magazine's coveted cover star, has been involved in a horrific accident. Reports indicate that the accident was severe, and Christian is currently being treated in the ICU unit..."

"All you ever cared about was your ambition. You worked behind everyone, even better than your mom. But then you slipped when you actually fell for Lena and you had to choose between her and your ambition." Thane's expression cracked for a split second. Bridget smiled like she'd won as she clicked her tongue and stepped back, her voice reducing to a whisper. "Naughty naughty boy, Thane." She turned away from him and walked to a corner of the room where she could see everyone standing tall, like a queen reclaiming her crown. She folded her arms again. "So what's it going to be? I'm getting the position my mom left for me. And then what?" Her eyes scanned the stunned faces in the room, butterf

I don't really know her and I don't trust her, so she has to sign a contract and even though ten million dollars is nothing to me, I will pay her in installments because I don't trust her, she can just decide to disappear with the money. "Alright that's fine, so I should plan the wedding according to the 50 million dollars budget you gave, right?" She asked and I couldn't help but laugh. Hahaha. "Is that a joke?" I asked as I continued laughing. "I don't understand what's so funny, you gave a 50 million budget right?" "Yeah but that was when I was getting married to someone that mattered, you on the other hand is just a substitute Bride. So plan something very small and private." I clarified

I was the prettiest bride walking down the aisle, I was getting married to "Michael Fisher".. "The Michael Fisher," apart from the fact that his grandmother is the richest in the country, he has been my crush since forever. I had seen him on billboards and Tv. I was an aspiring actress, but I never got a major role, and now I got the role of being the wife to the heir to the FISHERS WORLD. 2 WEEKS EARLIER "Leah......leah...." My name echoed in the balcony of the house, the sound of the voice was familiar, the landlord.

Annie's POV The brick wall was cold against my back and I counted in my head, my grip tight on the small metal canister. Tobin was in there and the sounds from inside were not good. I pulled the pin, leaned out just enough to see the open doorway, and threw the flash grenade inside. I turned my face back into the brick and squeezed my eyes shut. There was a loud pop and a bright white light that I could see even through my eyelids.

Alex’s eyes flicked to hers, questioning, but he said nothing. In the marble guest bathroom, Bridget locked the door and leaned against the sink. Cold water stung her face. She stared at the flushed girl in the mirror, her lips still swollen from earlier, eyes wide with the same reckless hunger that had started all of this. *What am I becoming?* One text to Jake could end everything. Her father’s company. His friendship with Alex. Her fingers shook as she typed: *Don’t. I’ll be there.* She deleted the message instantly, heart slamming. Then she splashed her face again, fixed her lipstick, and walked back out like nothing was wrong.

‍Trust is a fr⁠agile th‌ing,​ l‌ike a g​la​ss bridge. On‌e crack,and everyth⁠ing falls.‍ ‌I‍ stood in​ the ba​ck‍ of​ the‌ police car, wrapp⁠ed in a blanket⁠, w‍at‌c‍hing the rema​i‍ns of the Caldarian Villa smolder. Darlington was talking to‍ the detectives a f​ew yards awa‍y. He looked like a‍ h​ero. He had saved the "Re‌born Bride‌." He had capt​ured t‍he villa⁠ins. But the phone in my hand felt like a pi‍ece of hot coal.

No one had brought a breakfast tray. Bridget took a slow breath, smoothing down the front of her white silk blouse. She kept her makeup minimal, just a touch of tint on her lips. She needed to look like the woman Declan had originally agreed to marry—effortless, refined, and entirely distinct from the plain, heavy wool dresses Sloane favored. She found Declan in the glass-walled study off the main gallery. He was sitting behind a black marble desk, his attention fixed on a financial tablet.

Before she could leave, I asked one final question. "Why are you here?" The girl released a long-suffering sigh, as though I had asked the most obvious question in existence. Then she looked directly into my eyes. "To become the Bride of the Century." The words struck me harder than they should have. For a moment, I simply stared at her. Of all the answers I expected, that wasn't one of them. The girl who couldn't I be read, the girl who washed her own dress, the girl who treated a maid like a friend, and the girl who had ordered me out of the forest pond as if I were a servant.

She picks up on it, pauses beside me before leaving, reaches out and brushes my hair behind my ear in a gesture so unexpectedly affectionate my chest aches. "See you soon, cousin." The smile she gives me is warm enough to melt glaciers. Then she's gone. Jax watches her disappear through the doorway. "Ooh, I really like her." He drops into an armchair and points after her. "Badass betas, am I right?" Corrian rolls his eyes. "She cares for our girl, please try not to annoy her, pup." "And why not?" Jax grips at imaginary pearls. “Annoyings what I do best.”