Novel & Cerita Descendants Evie Coronation Dress

"What do you want, Lila?" he asked, his voice dropping as he took in her confident posture. It was a question filled with both dread and anticipation. She smiled, a slow, seductive curl of her lips. "I've shown you how much I care about you. I want you to give me what I deserve." She stepped back, her hand reaching behind her to unzip her uniform. She slid it down her shoulders and let the dress pool at her feet. She stood in her lace undergarments, watching as his eyes raked her body. " I want you to fuck me, Alexander." In the gilded halls of the Harrington estate, appearances are everything. Victoria Harrington is the perfect wife, and Alexander Harrington is the epitome of success. But beneath the surface of their flawless lives, secrets fester in the shadows. When Lila Evans, a quiet and unassuming waiting lady, enters their world, the delicate balance of power begins to shift. What starts as a dangerous attraction soon spirals into a web of lies, betrayal, and scandal that threatens to unravel the very fabric of the Harrington’s’ carefully curated existence. As hidden truths come to light and past sins resurface, loyalties will be tested, and no one will escape unscathed. In a world where trust is fragile and deception is the norm, one wrong move could bring it all crashing down. How far will they go to protect their secrets? And who will be left standing when the dust settles?

“What?!” I finally manage to croak out. “Let me fuck you”he repeats Okay so I heard him correctly. I turn to leave but then remember that Clare is probably riding Shane’s dick right now so I stop.I think about it for a second then I decide that I’m going to do it. My core clenches at the thought of having sex for the first time and I become more aware that I want to do this. “Okay”I tell him I walk back to the room locking the door.I take off my dress and then walk towards the random stranger who is beckoning me with his finger. This is so fucked up but I’m determined to enjoy this so I don’t pay too much attention to the details because that’ll only make me overthink this. Besides all I ever wanted was to lose my virginity to Shane Ryder but now that he is balls deep inside Clare Haistings I don’t think that matters anymore. He takes his shirt off, his torso and chest rippling. I almost let out a moan. The dim lights are making him look like a sex God and its honestly the alcohol but I suddenly can’t wait to have him inside me. I run my hands down his tight torso.

On our seventh wedding anniversary, I was straddling my Mafia husband, Lucian, kissing him deeply. My fingers fumbled in the pocket of my expensive silk dress, searching for the pregnancy test I'd hidden there. I wanted to save the news of my unexpected pregnancy for the end of the evening. Lucian's right-hand man, Marco, asked with a suggestive smile in Italian: "Don, your new little canary, Sophia. How does she taste?" Lucian's mocking laughter vibrated through my chest, sending a chill down my spine. He replied, also in Italian: "Like an unripe peach. Fresh and tender." His hand was still caressing my waist, but his gaze was distant. "Just keep this between us. If my Donna finds out, I'm a dead man." His men chuckled knowingly, raising their glasses and swearing their silence. The warmth in my blood turned to ice, inch by inch. The one thing they didn’t know was that my grandmother was from Sicily, so I understood every word. I forced myself to remain calm, keeping the perfect smile of a Donna fixed in place, but the hand holding my champagne flute trembled. Instead of making a scene, I opened my phone, found the invitation I had received a few days ago for a private international medical research project, and tapped "Accept." In three days, I would disappear from Lucian's world completely.

Inside the tattoo studio, Seth Jones let his fingertips trace the dip of Rita Searle's waist and move slowly up her spine. With a soft rustle, her dress slipped to her ankles. He stood over her, taking in the blood-red rose inked across her chest. They had been married for three years, and this was the anniversary gift he'd be giving her—999 roses tattooed into her skin. A broken sob scraped up Rita's throat. "Seth, it hurts… Please, stop…" Her tears splashed onto the back of his hand, but he only pressed the needle deeper, dragging it along until angry red welts marked her body. "Victor wanted those damn roses so he could give them to another woman, and that led to Tara falling off that cliff and ending up in a vegetative state. I'm just giving him what he wanted. You should be grateful." Lying on the cold tattoo table, Rita felt the chill spreading through her. Her eyes stung, weighed down by grief churning behind them. "Isn't it enough? You bought out Searle Group, you hung Victor over a cliff, and left him for the vultures. What else do you want from us?" Seth grabbed her by the throat and forced her chin up. "And isn't Tara innocent in all this? Rita, you and Victor destroyed her life. Don't you owe her for that?"

"She will come back," she promised. "She just needs time to sort her head out." "Not her heart?" The dry distinction made Charley wince. "I'm sure she loves you," she persisted. "She's just not ready to commit to marriage." If you just give her time, then I— Black eyebrows with a fascinating silken gloss gave her a curious look. "Are you actually standing there, Miss Jones, suggesting that I should wait for Adelina to sort her head out?" Well, was she? Lifting her chin, "If you love her—yes," she insisted. "Then you are a romantic fool because it is not going to happen." He moved suddenly, straightening away from the desk. "There is a wedding arranged for next Saturday morning, and I intend to make sure that it goes ahead." Without a bride? Charley stared at him. "You mean—you're going to find her and drag her back to marry you?" A silly kind of laugh left her throat at the very image of Adelina being dragged by this man down the church aisle, kicking and screaming. ‘No.’ Reaching behind him, his long fingers picked Adelina's letter up again—this time to fold it with slow, neat precision. "I mean to replace her with someone else."I want reparation for being taken for an idiot, and if that means putting you in Adelina's wedding dress and marrying you in her place, then that is what is going to happen."

“You need to learn manners, kitten.” I growl, prowling towards her. "Don't call me that, you kidnapper!” She screeches, throwing another bedside lamp at me. “Take another step forward and I'll—” I grab her and bend her over my knee. I twist both of her hands behind her back, despite her struggles and screams. “What are you doing?!” She shrieks. "Teaching you what happens when you act like a spoilt brat.” I yank her dress up to reveal the smooth skin of her ass, and plain white panties. And land a hard slap on it. *** Dymond Hilary's obsessive ex-lover is trying to murder her. It gets too dangerous, so she runs to the next city, Los-Angeles, with nothing to her name. No job, no home and no means for survival. To make ends meet, Dymond resorts to pickpocketing and stealing. This serves her well, until she made the terrible mistake of stealing from Nile Garres, the most ruthless and tyrannical billionaire in the country. As punishment, he kidnaps her. First to humiliate and teach her a lesson, but then found himself fascinated by his little redhead pet, who he would protect and pamper with all his wealth and power. But how does this ruthless billionaire react when he discovers that his feisty little kitten was pregnant for a powerful rival billionaire? And he finds out she was on someone's murder list? And this "someone" was her psychopath ex-lover?

The man I love is getting married. And it isn't to me. I've been in love with Jonathan for as long as I can remember. I loved him as a girl. I loved him as a teenager. I loved him as an adult. I love him still. But he doesn't love me. How could he? He's a billionaire and I'm just the butler's daughter. But when I attend a party in my Gucci dress and fancy heels, he sees me in a whole new light. And it couldn't have come at a worse time. His high-powered wedding is in two weeks. It falls to his older brother, Christopher, to protect Jonathan from himself. As always. And this time, that means spiriting me away and tempting me with my dream job on a tropical island. Here, I learn that Christopher is so much more than I ever gave him credit for. He gets me in a way no man ever has. His body completes me in ways I didn't even know possible. And the way he looks at me makes me think he could be the one. I've always been in love with Jonathan, but now that I've been with Christopher, I find I can't choose. Some people go their whole lives without finding one love of their life. Now I have to decide between two.

Princess Layana's birth was a mystery and her heritage a secret. Despite the luxurious life of a royal, she simply wished for a life away from the cage-like palace. Declan of House Storm was the sole survivor of a massacred clan, an event that gave birth to the darkness within him. Fuelled by hate, rage and betrayal he wants nothing but to get revenge on the royals that slaughtered his family. What will happen when the shielded princess with a heart as pure as the first ray of dawn meets the heir whose soul is shrouded in a blanket of darkness. Will he set her free from her shackles? Will she be able to lead him to the light before it’s too late? When the first whispers of darkness spread from the borders, they are brought together to protect the kingdom.Beware the prophecy decreed a long time passed for it may hold their world in its balance. -------- “It seems Lord Declan holds more ignorance than he is aware, we are women with emotions, wishes and hopes that we put behind us for the betterment of the kingdom,” Layana said her eyes flashing “Do enlighten me, what exactly can the precious jewels of the kingdom do for its people?” Declan mocked arrogantly. “Jewels? You compare us to items devoid of emotions, but yes, like jewels, we will be given away to the highest bidder. So before assuming princesses are simply there to play dress up and have tea parties, remember our lives are not simply fun and games!”

On the day of her wedding, Elena Bianchi was left standing alone in a church. For the nineteenth time, Don Giovanni Rossi failed to appear. His excuse was the same as always—Lina was 'dying' again. This time, the humiliation went further. While Elena waited in her wedding dress, a video call arrived. On the screen, the lace veil her mother had left her—the one promise Elena had sworn to keep—was being torn apart by Lina’s dog as Lina laughed and urged it on. Giovanni followed with a careless apology. He promised to buy her a better one. That veil had been the last thing her mother ever gave her. Elena did not cry. She did not argue. Instead, she made a call no one in the Italian underworld dared to make. Seven years later, the Rossi family had fallen. Their power was gone. Their allies had turned away. And Giovanni—once untouchable—stood among the defeated, waiting to receive the Donna of the most powerful Mafia family. He never expected it to be Elena. Now married to Rafael Bellini, Elena was no longer the woman abandoned at the altar. She was Bellini’s Donna—calm, ruthless, and beyond his reach. The veil that had once been fed to a dog had become a crown. And the man who had destroyed her was now her enemy. In a world ruled by bloodlines, loyalty, and vengeance, Elena proved one unbreakable truth: A woman cast aside by a Mafia king did not disappear—she rose, and she returned as his reckoning.

The night before our wedding, Jason Scott receives the cancer diagnosis of my adopted younger sister, Helena Sanderson. His expression falters, and he says indignantly, "We'll cancel the wedding tomorrow, Victoria. Helena is very fragile now. I can't risk upsetting her at this point in time." I reply, "I don't agree with it! Why would my wedding upset her?" Jason doesn't show any displeasure after my rejection. He even thoughtfully prepares a glass of milk for me. … When I wake up the next morning, I realize the house that should be full of excitement is eerily quiet. Anxious, I dial Jason's number 99 times. He only picks up the call on my 100th try. "Where did my wedding dress and shoes go?" I ask. Jason falls silent for a moment. His tone is apologetic when he replies, "I'm sorry, Victoria. Helena wants to experience being a bride once. I can't let her leave with regrets. Please bear with this for now. I'll make it up to you once she passes away peacefully." As the line goes dead, I sit frozen on the bed, unable to recover for some time. … A month later, while Jason is on his honeymoon, I send the livestream of my wedding announcement with his rival, Frank Lawrent, directly onto his phone. Jason regrets it bitterly.