Fiance And Fiancee Novels & Stories

On her birthday, Jasmine instead received destruction. Her face was ruined by an accident, and the love she believed would last forever collapsed in an instant. “I’m disgusted by the way you look now,” Christopher said coldly, canceling their wedding without guilt. “Didn’t you promise you would stay with me?” Jasmine’s voice trembled. “That promise applied when you were still perfect,” the man replied cruelly. The betrayal did not stop there. Christopher chose Valentina—Jasmine’s stepsister, who had long been jealous and full of ambition. Even more painful, Jasmine’s biological father took Valentina’s side. The house turned into hell; insults and mockery became daily fare. Leaving with wounds and shattered pride, Jasmine nearly lost everything—until fate brought her together with a mysterious old man. Jasmine’s courage in saving the old man led her to Jaden King, the heir to a respected business empire. “You don’t need to be perfect to be worthy,” Jaden said gently, looking at Jasmine without disgust, without pity. From a discarded woman, Jasmine rose to become the wife of a business ruler. When she returned, Christopher and Valentina laughed at her. “Jaden King’s wife? Don’t joke,” they mocked. But the laughter turned into fear when Jaden appeared and said firmly, “She is my wife. And starting today, your lives are over.” Love, betrayal, rebirth, and revenge—will Jasmine forgive, or will she settle every wound that once destroyed her? Is this conversation helpful so far?

My anxiety spiked during our wedding photoshoot. A sharp pain stabbed through my chest. My fiancé, Caius—the Falcone family heir—was helping his adoptive sister, Fiorella, try on my wedding dress. He didn't even spare me a glance. He was on one knee, focused on adjusting the lace on Fiorella’s hem. Before we’d even left the shop, Fiorella posted a selfie in the dress. She was all smiles, my fiancé standing beside her, posed like her groom. Calmly, I pulled out my phone. I sent a message to a painter I keep on retainer. "A royal portrait. The two of them. Old-world style. Use the cheapest materials you can find. I want the frame dripping with fake diamonds. Make it look like trash." I'll have it sent to Fiorella. A wedding present. The note will be simple. "A work of art as priceless as your bond. Best wishes on your wedding."

🦋 Chlorothea has never believed in love, least of all marriage. To her, it is nothing more than a contract that destroys women and rewards endurance over happiness. She learned that truth watching her mother wither in a union that stole her dignity and left her to die forgotten. So when her family forces her into an arranged marriage with a powerful military general, Chlorothea vows she will never surrender her heart, no matter the cost. Lysander has lived his life by duty alone. As a man bound by honor, gratitude, and the law, he accepts an order he cannot refuse: to marry the granddaughter of his benefactor’s closest friend. He expects a quiet, manageable life, one where service comes first, and emotion stays firmly locked away. What he does not expect is Chlorothea. Unpredictable, sharp-tongued, and branded a “Little Lunatic” by those who cannot control her, she turns Lysander’s orderly world upside down. What begins as a union forged by obligation soon becomes a battleground of clashing wills, buried pain, and dangerous attraction. In a marriage neither of them wanted, can two broken beliefs collide without destroying them both or will love prove itself stronger than the scars they refuse to heal?

We were supposed to be in love for eternity. But my vampire fiancé, Caius, has stood me up at our blood-bonding ceremony thirty-three times. The first time, the girl he’d sired, Evangeline, lost control during a hunt. He raced to her side, leaving me alone in the church under the blood moon. The second time, he vanished mid-ceremony because Evangeline was being bullied by another clan. He left me to face the elders’ mockery alone. After that, his little fledgling always had some fresh disaster for him to avert. And he always had an excuse: “I sired her. She’s like a child to me.” Then I saw the fresh bite marks on their necks. They had shared blood—the ultimate intimacy between mates. My heart turned to ash. It was time to burn our betrothal to the ground. The day I finally disappeared, he went mad, tearing our world apart to find me.

Three days before our wedding, my fiancé, Raphael Russo, was killed in a gang shootout. They didn't even find a body. As I was drowning in grief, comments suddenly flashed before my eyes: 【Wake up, girl! the coffin's empty! He faked his death! The scumbag ran off to be with that scheming bitch chloe, the one pretending to be sick!】 【While you're crying your eyes out at the funeral, Raphael is fucking Chloe’s brains out in a hotel bed.】 【When he comes back, he'll claim he has amnesia. You won't know a thing and you'll forgive him. You poor thing…】 A month later, news of my marriage to Mafia Don Marcello Falcone spread through New York. Raphael’s right-hand man cornered me, furious. “How could you betray the Boss?” I tightened my grip on Marcello’s arm and smiled. “A girl can’t mourn forever, can she? I’m sure Raphael, in spirit, would be happy for me.”

My mother sent me to Chicago to marry Marco Ricci. A power move. One meant to cement our family’s control of the city. After all, my grandfather was the one who put the Riccis on the map. They owed us. They were supposed to treat me like royalty. I went to the fanciest jeweler in Chicago to buy my fiancé a gift. But some broad snatched it right from me. Before I could move, the store manager was fawning all over her. “Miss Bianca! A gift from Mr. Ricci? It’s perfect on you!” Marco? My fiancé? So this was his whore. She slid the sapphire ring onto her finger and shot me a look of disgust. “Who the hell do you think you are, bitch? Trying to take what’s mine?” I didn't even look at her. I just called Marco. "Your whore has something of mine. You have three minutes. Get down to the jeweler and handle her."

Colter Giordano, my fiancé of six years, heir to the Giordano family, took a bullet for a dancer named Mia. He didn't take one for me. A bullet tore through my shoulder. Blood bloomed across my dress, hot and sticky. But my heart hurt worse. He asked if I was okay. Just once. Then he rushed Mia to the hospital, leaving me bleeding on the floor. The next day, Mia's picture popped up on my Instagram feed. There she was, in a luxury hospital suite. Colter was fussing over a scratch on her arm that was barely there. The caption was just two words: "My Hero." I liked the post. Then I made an encrypted call. "The Falcone family's offer," I said. "I'm taking it. Get me on a plane to Sicily. Three days."

The night of our engagement party, I found my best friend playing a dangerous game with my fiancé. The casino on our family's private yacht was where I found them. Clara was sitting on the lap of my fiancé, Killian, the Falcone family heir. Killian held a sharp family dagger, its tip snagging the thin strap of her dress. The blade traced a path along her collarbone. The slightest pressure would snap the silk. It was a dangerous, intimate scene. I stepped forward with a frown, but Killian just scoffed. "It's just a little game to liven things up, Principessa. Don't be so tense." Clara's eyes narrowed, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "We're just playing a traditional family game. The knife game. You don't mind, do you, sweetie?" I was about to speak, but Killian's expression hardened. "We just got engaged and you're already trying to control me?" So I said nothing. I just drew my custom pistol from its holster on my thigh. "So, it's a game," I said. "Then let's play for something real."

The first thing I did when I came back to life was to pawn off my engagement to the Don of the Schroder family, Edmund, on my stepsister. In my last life, he used the "family rules" to make me give up the one thing I loved—racing. He threw out all my colorful dresses and turned me into his canary in a gilded cage. I died, suffocated and hopeless. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day the marriage contract was to be signed. I quietly switched my name with my stepsister Laura's and let Edmund sign the papers. He didn't forget to warn me, "Stay out of trouble. Our wedding is in three days. Be a good girl and wait for me to come get you." But he had no idea I'd already bought a fake ID and passport. In three days, I'd be gone. I'd be free.

“I wish to leave- No, I will leave" I bravely stated, my eyes looking straight at my mate, the man I thought I could finally be happy with.“I forbid you” my alpha threateningly said as he leaned in for a forceful yet passionate kiss. I tried to push him lightly but his hands took hold of my hand pushing him and encircle it to his neck. As I let myself sink to the sweetness of his lips, I felt his hand caress my cheek gently, tenderly. He then reached for my hair, stroking it as he pulled me closer further deepening this ecstatic exchange. “I would even chase you to the pits of hell if I had to… Do you seriously think I will let you leave? You won't, right love?” he said in between kisses. Intoxicated, I simply nodded earning a smirk from him. I am aware that all this – this kiss, this feeling, this bond might be a trap further endangering my peace but how can I stop when this very moment felt so comforting, warm, so… right. —----- Anastasia Mayhem, a human blessed with an unfortunate fate. Betrayed, abandoned, heartbreaks after heartbreaks. The seemingly unending chain of misfortune continued to circle her life until she met Rozen. Rozen Wright, the ruthless alpha of the Blood Moon pack. Thrown in an unfamiliar world with unfamiliar people and an unfamiliar way of living, will Anastasia be able to finally escape her terrible fate or will she have a worse life with the werewolves – with her alpha. Book 1 of the Defiance Trilogy.