Enticing Ceo's Chosen Bride Novels & Stories

Others saw it as a scandal, with Elena as a gold digger who had somehow tricked the ruthless CEO into marriage. None of them knew the truth. The truth was that she had no choice. And tonight, at a high-profile party filled with the wealthiest and most powerful people, she was going to be put on display like an object. Thrown into the Lion’s Den Elena sat stiffly in the back of the sleek black car as it made its way toward the grand hotel where the party was being held. She clenched her hands in her lap, her fingers trembling slightly. “You’re too tense,” Damien’s voice cut through the silence.

“Miss Christine sure is delusional. Mr. Vincent is the Godfather of the Medici family. He’s worth billions. In New York, anyone with status treats him with the utmost respect.” “Isn’t he getting married to his fiancée in five days? And she’s saying he’s the love of her life? Does he even know who she is? Every Cinderella dreams of marrying into wealth, but not just anyone off the streets can be the Godfather’s woman.” I walked out of the hospital and, in a daze, got onto the subway. At that moment, my phone vibrated. When I checked it, I saw that Elena had sent several photos in a row. They were wedding photos of her and Vincent, taken in Central Park. The wedding dress she wore was the same

Sebastian’s POV I stared blankly at the tablet screen, my vision darkening with every passing second as I watched the woman speaking confidently in front of the crowd. It was her — Celeste Everhart. My bride. I still couldn’t believe it had come to this — that I had to marry her. Or anyone, for that matter. If it weren’t for my father’s insistence that I settle down, I would never have agreed to this ridiculous deal. He favored my stepbrother so much that he thought I should be the one to suffer instead of him.

"You've already decided you're doing this. Actually marrying someone, I mean. Not fighting the will." "What would fighting it accomplish? Years in court, contesting my own grandfather's wishes, while Richard runs the company in the meantime under some interim arrangement designed specifically to let him entrench himself." Ethan shook his head. "No. I'd rather control the outcome than gamble on a judge's interpretation of my grandfather's intentions." "So you marry someone. Who?" "I don't know yet." "That's not exactly a plan." "It's the beginning of one." Ethan finally looked at his friend directly. "I need someone honest. Someone who understands what they're agreeing to and isn't interested

Mary waved her hand casually. "It's fine." Then she smiled playfully. "But you could show me the CEO's office. That would make me happier." "Of course," David replied immediately. "This way, please." He led her toward the CEO's private elevator. Whispers immediately erupted around the lobby. "So she really is the CEO's wife." "Did you see how Assistant David spoke to her?" "She must be the boss lady." "When did the CEO get married?" Some people glanced at the receptionist with pity, while others smirked.

What the European elite witnessed was the canonization of a passion that had survived fire and betrayal to become the new law of the Moretti empire. Sofia Duarte Moretti gazed at her reflection in the gold-framed mirror of the bridal suite. The dress, a haute couture masterpiece in Calais lace and pure silk, embraced her body like a second skin, its train extending across the floor like a promise of eternity. Unlike the first “yes,” spoken in a cold office under the coercion of debts, this moment belonged entirely to her. She was no longer the contract bride; she was the partner, the lover, and the equal of the man waiting for her at the flower-decked altar by the lake.

the secretary said politely. I sighed silently. 'So, it's finally time to perform my duty as a wife at a social event,' I thought to myself. "Yes, I will prepare myself," I replied. When Friday arrived, I chose an elegant cream-colored evening gown that the housekeeper had prepared for me. I applied light makeup and left my long hair flowing. Just looking at myself in the mirror, I felt like I was no longer the same Linin. The role of being the wife of an influential CEO forced me to change.

Third‑Person Point of View Caleb had spent the previous day combing every department, photograph of the CEO’s wife in hand, yet still had not located her. He stared at the picture now, bewildered. Women of every pedigree chased Asher Windermere, but the bride he had chosen was a shy-looking “nerd.” Caleb scratched his head; the marriage had happened so suddenly he, the chief aide, had learned of it only afterward. A sleek car pulled to the curb. Asher stepped out and Caleb hurried over with the other executives.

“I love you.” “You tricked me!” “You asked for a blind date!” she whined. “I asked for a normal man—not my literal CEO!” There was silence. Then— “Wait... are you getting married?” she asked slowly. “No! Of course not! He offered me a job.” “A job…?” I rubbed my face, groaning. “He offered me a million dollars to fake-date him in front of his grandfather. That’s it.” “Wait, seriously? That’s it? I thought he was dead set on marriage.”

The wedding came faster than anyone had expected. Every single bomb seemed to drop too quickly, leaving people no time to recover from the last. The first shock—that Mr. Alex had a fiancée—was the cake batter. Now, finding out that his wedding happened way too fast was another shock that baked the cake. And just when the world was still talking, the icing was placed: the bride they were all dying to know turned out to be his little secretary. People couldn't stop talking, of course. Their imaginations ran wild, thinking about all the indecent things that might have happened in the office.