Dress Quotes

It was Hana Verlice’s engagement party — but the only thing she could think about was that night six months ago. The night Dante Carter pinned her against the backseat window of his car,cheeks pressed to the glass, her dress lifted to her waists, with his mouth buried between her legs. Now, she was hours away from marrying his older brother. Elijah Osborne Carter — the perfect man, heir to Osborne Pharmaceuticals, and her father’s last hope of saving their crumbling empire. But as she slipped into her designer dress, her mind couldn't stop thinking about the one man she could never have. Dante. The mistake she was supposed to forget. The temptation she swore never to touch again. The younger brother who disappeared after that night and was never supposed to come back. But as she stepped out of her dressing room to join her soon-to-be husband at the party, there he was. Leaning at the foot of the stairs like raw sin. Messy hair. Dark eyes. That cocky mouth that once had her moaning his name in ecstacy. Her pulse quickened as her knees threatened to give out. She tried to breathe. To stay still. But one look at him… and she knew she was in trouble. “What the hell are you doing here?” she whispered, her voice barely holding. He smirked, slow and knowing as his gaze dropped shamelessly to her lips. “Did you miss me, cookie?”

"I don't belong to you nor anyone, I have the right to my own body and can fuck who the fuck ever I want to !" I yelled suppressing the urges of pleasure that soared through me and in that instant, he ripped my dress apart. Ava's life took a drastic turn when she got sold off by her fiance into a contracted marriage to a ruthless Lycans Alpha who saw werewolves as weak beings. Going through stringent difficulties, she finds out that cruel fate at times, propels destinies to accomplishment.

"Are you sure you can get out of this trap, Arka? The trap you created for yourself long ago." The sentence haunted Arka's mind every time he looked at the woman who was now sitting gracefully on his lap. Amidst the glimmer of crystal lamps and the sheen of a gold dress, his ex-wife, Kania, looked like a queen who had just reclaimed her throne. Arka knew they were no longer bound by a sacred vow. Their divorce was final, signed on stamped paper years ago. Yet, in this private room, with the aroma of whiskey and Kania's challenging gaze, Arka once again became the helpless, foolish man. Tonight was supposed to be the celebration of his new engagement. He was supposed to be celebrating a new chapter. But Kania's presence in the private lounge, in a high-slit dress that showed off her long legs, had ruined everything. "You didn't have to come, Kania," Arka hissed, his voice choked. Kania smiled cynically, caressing Arka's jaw with her cold fingers. "You're right, darling. I didn't have to come. But I had to make sure of one thing: that your heart... still belongs to me, just like before." It turned out that getting out of the marriage was much easier than getting out of his ex-wife's love. Will Arka continue his engagement? Or will he return to his ex-wife?

The sixth year I gave up my family, my name, everything, to be with Marcus. That’s when I found out I was just a stand-in for the one he could never forget. And now, she was back. I accepted my family’s arrangement. The marriage alliance. The day my engagement dress arrived at the office, Marcus looked pissed. “I thought we agreed we’d get married when my career was more stable.” I said nothing. But when the wedding invitation arrived, Marcus finally broke. The groom wasn't him. It was the heir to the Moretti family.

I ended a pregnancy before it reached three months—and he never even knew. He was too busy rekindling things with his ex, still tangled in old flames. To make her feel comfortable, he gave her my master bedroom like it was nothing. He even turned what was supposed to be our engagement party into a welcome party for her. He let me become the laughingstock of everyone around us. So I turned away, cut up my engagement dress, and agreed to marry the man my family had chosen for me.

On my birthday, my adopted sister, Sophia Norris, frames me for soiling her dress and causing her to not be able to attend the banquet. My older brothers, Gerald and Gary Moore, immediately demand that I give my gown to Sophia. Otherwise, they will cancel the birthday banquet. Furious, I point at them while screaming, "I didn't ruin her dress at all! She was the one who splashed red wine onto it! "Also, I will never give my gown to her! My best friend designed it for me!" As soon as my words fall, Gerald commands the bodyguards to tear the gown from my body. At the same time, Gary picks up a wine glass and dumps red wine onto my face. "It's bad enough that you constantly bully Sophia! Today, her crush, Zachary Green, will be attending the banquet too! Do you have any idea how long she has prepared for this day to come?" Gerald adds, "A vile woman like you doesn't have the right to be born, let alone celebrate your birthday!" After that, a few bodyguards drag me into the basement. Immediately, pitch-black darkness swallows me. I have severe asthma. Breathing becomes insanely difficult for me as seconds tick by. I keep screaming loudly and calling for help, but all I hear is laughter coming from the banquet upstairs. It isn't until the banquet is well underway that Gerald and Gary remember that I exist. But I've already died in the cramped basement.

After three miscarriages for Xavier Lowe, I see it—my mother-in-law has three years left, my father-in-law nine years, and my sister-in-law two years. I say nothing. After the third miscarriage, my mother-in-law blames me, calling me a curse who "kills" children. My sister-in-law sneers, saying she almost died in a car crash the year I married Xavier—as if my bad luck dragged her down. My mother-in-law snaps, "She can't even keep a child. It must be because she's cursed!" Xavier just stands there, silent. He doesn't say a single word for me. I know that, deep down, he believes that I bring bad luck. Maybe it's also because he already has someone else—his secretary, Yvette Snyder. His mother has always liked her better, and he clung to her the night I lost my third child. I don't explain because I know the truth will only destroy them faster. On my 28th birthday, I catch a glimpse of my own countdown in the mirror. On that day, I take a leave of absence. I go to the funeral home and pick out an urn—pure white, just like the wedding dress I once wore. Wearing a beautiful floral dress, I text Xavier, asking him to meet me at the lake where we first met ten years ago. I wait from daylight until nightfall as my countdown ticks to zero. I die, and he never shows up.

"What are you doing?" She demanded. "Today is my wedding day, and you come wearing a white dress! How dare you come and make trouble?" Hazel did not say anything. She just gave Hazel a sharp gaze. She could feel Hazel's palpable anger. However, there also seemed to be a hint of panic in her expression. Pleased, Hazel laughed. "What's wrong? Are you afraid, Miss Steve? Seems like you fear me after all!" She grinned. "I am not here to make any trouble, but to steal your groom."

In order to raise money for her mother's medical treatment, Heather, framed by her step sister Helena, accidentally had sex with a strange man named Killian and received a reward from him but Heather was too late and her mother died in the hospital. Devastated and heartbroken, she left the country after finding out that she is pregnant for the strange man. Five years later, Heather returned to her home town as a successful wedding dress designer but things got in between her and Killian again. Sex, love, hate and traps became the weakness of Heather, Killian and their suspicious allies.

Franchetti Xerene Covry - maangas, palaban, astig, at walang inuurungan. She's careless and reckless, lahat na ata ng kalokohan ay alam na niya. Aakalain mong tomboy ito dahil sa paraan ng kaniyang pananamit. But don't underestimate this small thing because she's insanely strong and terrible. Dress her up and she's actually a bad-ass chic. She may live in an apartment but trust me, she can afford to buy islands, perhaps, an entire country. SHE'S THAT WEALTHY. But it was not hers, she said. All those wealth and everything, it was not hers. It was for DEATH.