Covet Bridal

The day before our engagement, my fiancé, Shawn Williams, said he would accompany me to look for a wedding dress. He still was not there by the time the bridal shop closed. I received a text from him on my way home. Shawn said: [Britney said she ran out of pajamas, so I'll accompany her to go shopping.] I called him, but his junior answered the phone. "Shawn is taking a shower. I can pass along a message if you have something to tell him." Shawn and I had been in a relationship for four years. Whenever I had something important to do, his junior would suddenly need his help with something trivial. He would always abandon me and rush to her side. As expected, he did not hesitate to abandon me on a day as important as today. Feeling exhausted, I calmly replied, "Tell him the wedding is canceled. I don't want to marry him anymore."

On the day of my wedding gown fitting, a stranger burst into the VIP suite and stabbed me with a knife. “You think you deserve a dress this expensive after stealing someone else’s man?” She tore at the delicate fabric of my skirt. Then, with a twisted smile, she hurled a bottle of acid at me. The blade was buried in my lower abdomen. The pain drove me to my knees. She grabbed my hair and yanked my head up. “Gerald’s my husband! What are you? You’re nothing but a mistress who can’t even be seen with him in public!” Blood dripped down my fingers. That was when it finally sank in. The man I had been with for seven years had been keeping another woman by his side. “What’re you staring at? Even if I kill you, with my husband’s influence, no one will dare touch me!” Staring at her smug face, I pulled out my phone with hands slicked in blood and called my brother. “Matt…” My voice was unnervingly calm. “Come pick me up at the bridal shop. And please inform the Hoover family that the engagement is off.”

“Hope you are neat in there.” He croaked. I was speechless for some moment. I tried to figure out what to say to convince him but my head was blank. “It's time.” The master announced. “Mark bundled her into my bedroom.” Tiny tremor ran over my skin when I heard those words. “Please don't do this to me. I'm begging you.” I pleaded. Tears were cascading from my eyes as Mark, one of the guys carried me up in a bridal style and laid me on the bed. The lights were turned off, not giving me an opportunity to see the man's face. This must be hell on earth. Mark left and the master came in, shutting the door behind him. Patricia has been forced into a marriage she wasn't ready for. She's faced with a plethora of challenges ranging from her kidnap, a mysterious woman taking over her home and her mother being her husband's mistress. It was hell on earth. Immerse yourself with this book to find out more suspense, drama and surprising twists.

She emerges from the ashes of her family and the pack's tragic demise... A beautiful, happy she-wolf who in an instant lost everything she has ever known, loved and cherished, trampled and killed by a devious enemy attack. From the blood and mangled flesh of her loved ones, a rage she has never known erupted and consumed her whole being allowing her to shift. The appearance of the supreme ferocious Red Wolf - the only one in existence! Shedding bloody tears, her heart in deep sorrow for she will be happy and content not being able to shift if it means she can have them back! When he learns what happened to her mate's pack, the emotionless Alpha King Lucian, the King of the Werewolves, for once feels devastation and fury he never felt before. He decided to come out from the shadows and leave everything behind to go to her. Boiling with uncontrollable jealousy, when some daring, bold wolves appear to covet what was always his, he informs her that she is his mate and the Luna of his pack. But will she acknowledge him when her soul and wolf are in tatters and clamoring for a bloodlust vengeance? He vowed to kill her adversaries and to keep her safe always from their enemies, but who would actually be doing the guarding? Let's check it out.

Katherine Iris Thornton was getting married in two months but all she could think of was her university crush Aidan Flint Waldorf. Six years ago, they had been best friends but Aidan had never known about the romantic feelings she had been harboring for him. How could she have told him when he had been dating her other best friend Jennifer Avery Calhoun? The past was catching up on her and she could not determine whether it was merely bridal jitters or her feelings for Aidan was more than a mere crush? Years ago, Aidan Waldorf had caught his girlfriend in the arms of his best friend Ryce Connor at his graduation party and from that day he had stopped believing in love. However, when he received the marriage invitation of one of his best friends Kate, he felt all the pain coming back to haunt him and vowed for payback. What happens when all four best friends reunite before the wedding? Sparks and revenge are expected but will they be able to sort out the past and become friends again? Will there be love in the air?

The person I don't wanna see again was really Infront of me. "Dave?" I asked. "Yes Amber it's me, so glad you didn't forget my name" He said. How could I forget the person who broke me. "You need to sleep a little longer" Dave said to me. And I saw him injected something on me and it makes me slept again. The moment I wake up I saw Dave staring at me. "Hey, are you watching me while I'm sleeping?" I asked. "Yeah, you love it when I watched you sleeping" he answered. The heck he didn't forget those little things that I loved him doing. "Why did you drink too much alcohol I told you before that your body reacts bad on this activity right, look at you now you are here at the hospital instead of enjoying your bridal shower" He still a good man I know, he still the one who's got so angry when I drunk too much alcohol.

On the third anniversary of our engagement, my fiancé—Dominic Corleone, heir to one of the most powerful Mafia dynasties in New York—told me he was not ready to form a new family so that our wedding would have to postpone. I told myself to wait for some time, the bond between the Corleones and the Valentinos—our families’ sacred alliance—would hold us together. But what followed were his endless betrayals and tortures. I walked into a bridal boutique and saw him laughing with Liliane, the childhood friend who always lingered too close. I watched him destroy the wedding gown I had spent months designing—then crush my hand beneath his heel until it bled. And when I thought I had hit rock bottom, he proved I was wrong—by getting behind the wheel and running me down. He thought I’d beg and cling to him, terrified of losing the Corleone name and privilege that came with it. But instead, I made one phone call and insisted firmly on canceling the engagement. However, that call didn’t just end a marriage arrangement. It unearthed a secret that had been buried for over a decade…and turned a marriage born of duty into a story of dark devotion.

Today, I am going to marry the man I love, Damon Mark Olson. We didn’t have it easy. I am the veritable Cinderella and he was my handsome prince. People frowned on our relationship. Even his mother never failed to show her dislike for me at every opportunity. But Damon fought hard for me. At the church, I heard the first notes of Pachelbel's Canon in D and started my bridal walk. Damon looked dapper in his suit but he looked distracted, and his hair looked kind of mussed. Tenderness swept over me. When I reached his side, he took my hand. An electric current coursed through our connected skin. Damon looked startled, and I almost laughed, The priest gave us his blessings. And to Damon, he said, “You may now kiss your bride.” I held my breath as Damon very gently lifted my veil. Our eyes connected, and I saw a swirling mass of emotions in his gaze before his head dipped and gave me a kiss that jarred me. He kissed expertly, too expertly, that my eyes flew to his face. And that was when realization sank in. I was not kissing Damon Mark Olson. I was kissing someone who looked exactly like him.

I was setting up a weekend shopping list on the tablet my husband had just replaced for our home system. A notification popped up. He had forgotten to log out of a shared, encrypted family calendar— one I didn’t recognize. There was only one unfamiliar profile photo. I tapped it. A list titled “My Little Princess – Personal Notes” filled the screen. My Little Princess doesn’t drink alcohol—only mineral water or herbal tea. No late nights. She needs absolute quiet to sleep. She gets anxious easily—keep fresh white lilies in the house and her favorite vanilla chocolates on hand. I scrolled slowly, my expression unreadable. The final entry was bolded. Highlighted. “Next Wednesday: take my Little Princess to choose her wedding crown.” I closed the screen. Then I picked up my phone and called my husband. “Love,” I said gently. “Does your Little Princess prefer a classic European bridal crown… or something more traditional? I thought I could help you choose.”

In Reychelle City, a contest was held to crown the most beautiful woman. After my cousin scarred my face, she seized first place with ease. What she never expected was that this year's contest wasn't for fame; it was to select the future wife of the Third Prince, a ruthless, bloodthirsty eunuch. That very afternoon, gifts poured in by the cartload. My betrothed panicked. That night, he tore up our engagement contract and carried my cousin into the bridal chamber. The next day, she trailed her lacquered fingertips across my cheek and sneered, "Alicia, with your ruined face, who would ever want you? Perhaps the beggar at the street corner might take you in." I caught her wrist, let out a cold laugh, and said, "Who told you I would marry a beggar?" Before her stunned eyes, I pushed open my parents' chamber doors. "Mom, since Maggie doesn't wish to be the prince's consort… let me take her place." Three years later, before the eyes of a shocked court, the Third Prince entered the grand hall with me at his side, with two children in tow. No one had foreseen it. This body of mine, blessed with the rarest gift of fertility, was the perfect match for a man believed incapable of siring heirs.