Dress Story

The night before our wedding, my fiancée let her so-called "best friend" butcher the gown my late mother had sewn, chopping it into a revealing mini dress. I rushed over with the ruined dress in my arms, ready to demand answers: only to catch their voices through the door: "Imagine him expecting me to wear something a dead woman stitched. What a curse!" Through the narrow gap, I saw my distant, frigid fiancée flushed with color, straddling his lap. "What we did at the bridal shop wasn't enough," she murmured. "Tomorrow, walking down the aisle in this tiny dress you made me, it'll be even more exhilarating." Their lips met. My hand froze against the door, and inside, something broke with a soundless crack. If she longed for thrills, I would grant her some.

With only an hour left until the concert began, every trending topic across the internet was dominated by a single headline. [Breaking: Rising Star Tiffany Burgess to Propose to Her Manager After Ten Years of Romance, Leaving Fans in Awe.] This proposal was not just a personal milestone; it was the centerpiece of our company's most ambitious PR campaign of the year and the culmination of a love story between Tiffany and me. Then, in the fire escape, I bumped into Tiffany, dressed in her wedding gown, locked in a passionate kiss with a young man. "Wayne, let me explain," she pleaded. "Explain what?" I snorted. "That just before our proposal, you're sneaking around with another man? The proposal is live-streamed to millions, with thousands of media outlets eagerly awaiting the announcement." I slammed the engagement ring down onto the table in front of her. "After the encore tonight, you'll either propose to me on that stage, or you'll be ruined, both in reputation and career!" Her fists clenched, but in the end, she gritted her teeth and grabbed the box. "Fine." Under the spotlight, she stood before me in her wedding dress, pulling out the ring. But instead of turning to me, she held the ring up toward the guest seating area, where her true love sat. "Wayne, thank you for helping me reach the stars," she declared. "But tonight, I'm going to chase my moon." The crowd erupted in shock and confusion. In a single instant, I became the laughingstock—the unwitting prop in her grand romantic gesture. My heart shattered the moment she reached him.

On our wedding night, my fiancé's best friend barged into our room for the third time, claiming a wedding prank. Having had enough, I warned Sam Whitman that if we didn't consummate our marriage that night, it was as good as over. He glanced at my half-unbuttoned dress and dismissed my words as a tantrum. Then Candace Lombard stormed in for the ninth time, ripped off the covers, and livestreamed our intimate moments. Sam merely pushed me aside and told me to be understanding. She climbed into our bed, smirking as she claimed the spot between us. "Wedding night prank? I get it," I grinned, leaning into her livestream camera. "Alright, everyone, fire up those donations! I'm about to let my husband take a mistress live. Let's make it a show!"

On the day Ethan Moore and I are supposed to marry, his adoptive sister, Hazel Moore, threatens to jump off a building. Ethan abandons me in my wedding dress and leaves me jilted for her. As the guests watch me mockingly, I boldly announce, "I'll marry anyone who dares walk down this aisle to me!" Three years later, Ethan returns to the Moore residence with Hazel. I'm seated on the couch and enjoying some oatmeal while watching TV. Ethan stares at my baby bump and snarls, "Who's the father of that child in your belly?" I sip my oatmeal and smile faintly. "A member of the Moore family, of course."

On the day my boyfriend gets engaged, I'm locked in the bedroom even though I'm supposed to be with him. By the time I make it to the venue, I see him passionately kissing his first love. When I confront him, he scoffs. "Kirsty’s a wealthy heiress who can help with my career. Isn't being my girlfriend enough for you?" With my answer loud and clear, I turn and call home. "Mom, Dad—about that arranged marriage you mentioned... I'm in." The day he marries Kirsty Bainbridge is also the day I marry my alliance partner. And the moment he sees me in a wedding dress, he completely loses his composure.

For five years, Celia was nothing more than Alpha king’s secret lover, wearing her disliked dress and perfume, just because he like it on her. —until She overheard the truth: “She’s just a replacement. A gold digger.” "I chose her, just becuase she seems like you. She's your Substitute. Never deserved be a luna." Shattered, she walks away, vowing never to look back. But then—her instincts sharpen, her senses heighten, and Soren’s scent clings to her skin. ...Mate. Impossible. A wolfless girl like her could never be the Alpha King’s fated mate… right? * On the first day she left, he wasn’t worried. “She’ll come back.” “Don’t bother with it. She was just a substitute lover. A worthless gold digger.” But after a week… a month… three months… his panic set in. “Lock down the entire pack—find her at all costs… —Find my Luna!”

After a one night stand, I opened my eyes and found a naked handsome man lying next to me. He was the last Lycan. According to the rumors, the last Lycan went crazy every full moon. He could only be tamed by having sex with a virgin werewolf. Every pack sent virgins to sacrifice to the last Lycan, and I was the chosen one. Before he woke up, I escaped quietly. But it's strange how my wolf became more powerful! Could sex with a Lycan make me stronger?! --- The Lycan was a wall of masculine muscle behind me. His body heat scorched me even through my wedding dress; his breath seared the shell of my ear as he leaned closer and whispered, "Mate..." If the last Lycan was the Devil, I thought I might want to go to hell. --- When I rescued the last Lycan from his cage, I never thought that one day, I would be put into a cage by him.

Olivia Bennett is abandoned at the altar by the man she thought she loved. Humiliated, mocked, and left in her wedding dress, she stands alone—until a stranger steps forward and says the words that change her life: “I’m her husband.” This story is a story of heartbreak, fate, second chances, and a love powerful enough to rewrite destiny.

On the day of my wedding with my girlfriend, I was unexpectedly informed by the hotel that our ceremony had to be postponed by a couple of hours. With no time to notify relatives and friends of the change, I had to rush to the hotel entrance to intercept guests. Upon arriving, I was stopped at the door by security, who told me that a wedding was currently taking place inside. The host's voice could be heard as I saw my girlfriend, wearing a veil, smiling and extending her hand to a man who was half-kneeling. In the audience, all the bride's relatives who were supposed to attend our wedding were seated, clapping and cheering. The man on stage was her dream guy and also my current superior. Seeing me causing a commotion, my girlfriend warned me, "I'm just helping out. Alex is your superior. I'm also doing this to help you. Don't cause any trouble." Just helping out? I had booked the wedding venue, chosen the time, designed the wedding dress, and personally sent out the invitations. How could a wedding be rearranged so suddenly? I looked coldly at the ring box the man was holding. "It seems my taste is quite similar to my yours. If that's the case, this diamond ring is yours, including the wife." My girlfriend finally panicked.

A week before my bonding ceremony, my younger sister traveled from a distant pack to be my maid of honor. While she was trying on her dress, the phone she had left outside suddenly rang. “Florence, can you answer that for me? I can’t get it right now.” I picked it up, and a male werewolf’s voice came through the line. “Baby, I bought you a gorgeous lingerie set. Tonight is going to be amazing.” I didn’t make a sound. A cold chill sliced straight through me. That voice belonged to none other than my mate-to-be, Dylan Conner.