Father Of The Bride Part Two Novels & Stories

He insisted on presiding over his own wedding. "From the moment I first saw Anna, I've imagined this scene countless times," he said. "I believe that the nurse who comforted me outside the operating room deserves the very best wedding. That's why I spent two months giving her all of this. It's not that it took me two months to decide to marry Anna. It's just that preparing a wedding takes two months." The audience burst into applause, deeply moved by this "ordinary yet great love." I sat in the very last row, watching the affectionate man on stage and the delicate, charming woman beside him. If I didn't clap along, it would seem out of place.

I start walking back toward the resort, thighs sticky, mind racing. That’s when I hear it. Two male voices coming from the other side of the thick foliage, low and urgent. “…the father wants the merger sealed before the reception. The bride doesn’t know the full extent yet.” My blood freezes. The groom’s father. I inch closer, heart pounding. The second voice — deeper, colder — replies, “She won’t find out until it’s too late. As long as the bridal party stays occupied and compliant, everything stays on track. Especially that pretty little assistant of yours. She’s the perfect leverage.”

My father looked smaller than I remembered, tucked into the high-tech bed of the private suite Adrian had provided. "Amara?" he croaked, his eyes fluttering open as I took his hand. "I’m here, Dad." "I saw... I saw the news," he whispered, gesturing weakly to the TV on the wall. "The wedding. You and that Wolfe boy." My heart squeezed. "It happened fast, Dad. He... he really cares about me." The lie felt like ash in my mouth. "He’s paying for everything. The best doctors, the shop... you don't have to worry anymore."

They are not the best but I still love them both dearly. Father held out his arm and I entwined mine with his. Isabella handed me my bouquet of white lilies then we walked through the double doors and into the chapel. I fidget and almost skip a step at the flashes of camera that came over us all at once. Father must have sensed this as he bent down slightly to whisper in my ear. Somewhere in the back of my head I can hear the organist play Here comes the bride. "It only gets awkward at first. Try to smile and you'll be fine" he said.

From there, she’d remind him of their life before, all the luxury and freedom, without kids or custody battles. “Lily will notice if I suddenly reappear,” Vivian said. “Good,” I replied. “Let her worry. Let her doubt him. Once the social worker sees that tension, it’s over.” “And then I get Julian,” Vivian said. “And I get Lily,” I finished with a smile. “Exactly how it should’ve been six years ago.” My phone buzzed. A message from Mother: Phase Two is ready. Be at the estate now. Perfect. “I need to go,” I said, standing. “My mother needs me.”

Marcus opened his mouth. But nothing came out. Because she was already turning. Walking away again. This time slower. This time not running. Just leaving. The waves kept crashing. The sky kept darkening. And the wedding party…still laughing, still celebrating on the beach below…had no idea the stranger had been there at all.

I replied still very much confused at where all these was heading to. "Jade and Melinda, these two prestigious guests of ours are Mr Luca Greco and Mrs Gabriela Greco. They are very respected and powerful people in the society" Father announced to me. "Oh. It is a pleasure meeting you both" I gave a slight bow. "The pleasure is all ours. You are so polite. You will definitely make a wonderful bride for Luciano" Mrs Gabriela smiled. At that moment my jaws dropped and it felt like the entire air had been sucked out of my body. They had been talking about my marraige all along!

Guests filled the pews, dressed in silks and diamonds, murmuring praises, trading business cards, congratulating themselves more than the bride and groom. Damien stood at the altar, a flawless picture in a black tuxedo, his expression unreadable. As I walked down the aisle, arm in arm with my father, I kept my face frozen, my steps measured. Each click of my heel echoed like a death toll. My father’s grip was iron around my arm, his chin high, proud. We were closing a deal, a multi-billion-dollar union. A future shaped in boardrooms and sealed with my signature on a marriage certificate.

Then he uttered, "Father, can I talk to you for a moment?" Henry nodded and walked alongside the man who was wearing a dirty tuxedo. They remained silent until they reached the fire exit. The groom took a deep breath and reached out his arm to touch the priest's shoulder. He looked him in the eye while saying, "Thank you for being here, Father, but I think you're a bit overwhelming. You can visit her when she wakes up. I know you're a good person, but people might question your relationship with my bride." A faint smile appeared on the priest's melancholic face.

Because as a father, he just wants his son's marriage to run smoothly without having to bother thinking about the media and journalists who are sometimes annoying just to get the latest news. Now, the second son of Jeffri Duttlof and Isabella Duttlof is standing in front of the altar, in front of the priest who is very ready to marry back the child of someone so famous and influential in the world. The second son of Jeffri and Isabella was so handsome, handsome with the black tuxedo he wore and the tie.