Elena And Damon Wedding Novels & Stories

“You will. We are out here to make money babe! Let’s focus on growing your account “ I assured. Cole contacted Rex privately and they talked about the location and time for his shoot per day. I went to bed almost immediately, leaving Cole in the sitting room. Irene’s POV. It was a romantic date. Damien had brought me a bouquet flower at the office to ask out for a date. I hurriedly got home and changed into the dress he had got for me. It was a lovely evening. I got downstairs and Raymond helped me with the car. I kept looking outside the car as he drove but I couldn’t get a clue to where he was driving me.

He took a steadying breath, fighting the urge to steal a kiss before the ceremony began…. There was no hesitation when the priest finally said, “You may now kiss your bride.” Damien’s lips crashed into hers as cheers erupted around them. Behind them, a burst of rainbow-colored smoke filled the air between the Lake and the mountains, painting the sky as everyone clapped and cheered even louder….. As they walked back down the aisle hand in hand, Elena and Damien stopped where Nathaniel was playing the soft piano melody that had guided their steps. Elena leaned down and kissed him gently on the cheeks while Damien smiled and gave his back a proud, affectionate pat…

The moment after unveiling the bride had passed, and Damian hadn’t touched her. I didn’t care. All I could think about was the memory of Valerio’s warm lips still pressed into mine. Damian leaned toward the priest, whispering something. The priest nodded, flustered. Damian lifted Elara’s veil, but instead of leaning in, his hands just fell back uselessly at his sides. Elara tilted her head forward, waiting, her lips parted, but the kiss never came. The silence dragged, thick and humiliating, until the priest gave a stiff clap and announced, “Congratulations.” A smattering of awkward applause followed. “You may now bring your gifts and take photos with the couple.”

The officiant’s voice stretched, breaking apart into a garble of sounds until Brad's thumb slowly brushed over my knuckles, dragging me cruelly back to the present. “Do you, Elena Ava Nolan, take Bradley Hawkins to be your lawfully wedded husband…” I glanced at my father. His eyes met mine. They were pleading. Brad’s grip tightened. The officiant waited. My lips parted, but no sound came. Just a trembling breath. Brad leaned in, his voice a low whisper meant only for me. “Say yes, Elena. Or your father won't live to see tomorrow.” A broken exhale escaped me. “I… do,” I blurted.

Elena's eyes widened in horror as she yelled, "Over? What about me? You promised you'd help me! If my parents don't witness the ceremony, they won't believe it. They'll send me away to the Corsica family to settle their debts. Those people will torture me!" A vein throbbed at Lorenzo's temple. "If I help you, who's going to help me? My girlfriend married someone else. Do you think I'm in the mood to stand there and put on a fake wedding with you? All I care about now is to get Cinzia back!" Elena was devastated. As their car slowly closed in on the one ahead, something in her snapped. She suddenly lurched forward, climbing into the front seat and seizing the steering wheel, wrenching it hard

Then he turned to Vanessa with a smile that could freeze blood. "If you'll excuse us, Vanessa. My wife needs attending to." He led her away, his grip almost painful as they moved through the crowd and people parted like water, whispers trailing in their wake. Elena's whole body shook because she'd just made a scene at a charity gala, staked a public claim on a man she didn't own, behaved exactly like the jealous wife she was only supposed to pretend to be. Her lungs couldn't get enough air. Julian didn't speak, didn't look at her, just kept walking and pulling her along until they reached a quieter corner behind a massive sculpture of twisted metal that probably cost more than her vineyard.

Damien’s pov I could barely breathe. Everyone was staring at me. Whispering…pointing. "That's Damien Blackwell. He was married to her." "I heard he treated her terribly." "Serves him right. Look at her now." I wanted to disappear into the floor. Mother was having a complete meltdown at our table. And me? I just stood there watching Elena dance with Caleb Harding like she wasn’t a married woman. "Damien." I felt a hand on my shoulder. Victoria.

She just looked at him like she’d already accepted the worst of it. “Who told you to come here?” he demanded, pushing himself upright. The room spun. Elena flinch. “you asked for me,” she said. Her voice was steady, too steady for someone who’d been dragged into a marriage against her will. “Your wife. According to the marriage certificate you signed at 3:14 AM.” Damien stared at her. The name meant nothing. The face meant nothing. He’d been told Sophia would be here. Sophia, nineteen, soft-spoken, desperate to please. This woman was older, sharper, and she wasn’t looking at him like he owned her.

Several students had turned to watch us, curious. My mouth went dry. I wanted to say it. My mother worked as your personal housekeeper. Maria Reyes. But I couldn't, not with everyone watching. Instead, I stuck out my hand, forcing brightness into my voice. "Elena. Elena Reyes. We met... a long time ago." He didn't take my hand. Just looked at it like it was something distasteful. The seconds stretched out, awkward and painful, until I dropped my arm. Then, deliberately, Damien pulled a small bottle of hand sanitizer from his pocket. He squeezed some into his palm and rubbed his hands together slowly, his eyes never leaving mine.

Only their closest friends, family, and a few trusted allies were present intimate, exclusive, and perfect. Elena walked down the aisle in a stunning, flowing ivory gown that caught the sea breeze, her heart pounding with overwhelming emotion. At the end of the aisle stood Damian, tall and devastatingly handsome in a tailored black tuxedo, his piercing gray eyes locked on her with a mixture of awe, love, and raw possession. When she reached him, he took her hands, his voice low and steady as he whispered, “You look like forever.”