Fiona Wedding Shrek Novels & Stories

And I’m scared of letting it go because if you throw it away out of fear, you might never get a chance to make it right again. Xira gave out a loud laugh that came out strained, almost painful. “This is unbelievable. Do you even hear yourself? Fiona signed this marriage to help get revenge against her former mate just like the way you planned it to go, or are you forgetting that so soon?” “It is not too late to correct the past,” I quipped.

she cut him short Samael let them have their conversation but he was starting to get bored now and he needed to get married to her as sooner as possible, he glare at Ian who immediately retreat and lead them to a beautiful decorated hall full of different flowers Shaina look in admiration at the beauty and smile satisfied, ‘this is it’ she whisper to herself and cross her arms with his, together they walk down the aisle and stop at the altar “Since this is a private wedding, the couple read their vows themselves” Mr. Fisher announced to the two Shaina breathed out slowly and look into the pairs of eyes in front of her, the colour look so beautiful that she couldn’t help having a long stare a

“Sharon? Did you bump into her?” Fiona snorted coldly. “It’s not that I bumped into her. But… Simon took her to the Zachary household. He and Sharon are now married on paper, and she’s become my sister-in-law!” Sally’s expression abruptly changed. It took a long time before she managed to utter, “Are you joking with me, Mom?” “Who has the mood to joke around with you?” Fiona scoffed and narrowed her eyes at her. “By the way, can you tell me honestly who was the man you found for Sharon back then?”

Christ. I grabbed my water bottle and took a long drink, trying to ignore the incessant buzzing. But curiosity—or maybe just irritation—got the better of me, and I picked up the phone to scroll through the messages. Fiona: Jameson, please call me. We need to talk. Fiona: You can't actually be going through with this wedding. Everyone knows it's not real. Fiona: She's not right for you. You know that. I know that. Everyone knows that.

I just wanted to get this over with so I could drown myself in work and forget this circus. Fiona walked in, head held high, clutching a massive white-and-pink bouquet, a two-million-dollar Prada veil covering her hair, and a gown that screamed royalty. Fifty million dollars on a wedding dress—because what better way to show the world you’re marrying Jordan Denver than to walk down the aisle looking like a damn queen? Faces turned toward her, strangers smiling as if they were paid to look happy. Rob patted my shoulder again, and I forced a nod as Fiona reached the altar, standing beside me, moments away from becoming Mrs. Denver.

I wouldn’t let this little thing see me in tears or plead for her mercy. "You see, I got the wedding ring while you only have the fake engagement ring," she mumbled, showing off her wedding ring right in my face. "pft! It’s such a shame." Fiona said and walked to pick up an already prepared bucket of mud water, which hasn't been oblivious to me all this while. She took it and walked back to me. She splattered it all over my beautiful dress.

She looked at Fane and then looked away embarrassedly. “Marry her! Marry her! Marry her!” A group of young men and women, who seemed to be the fat woman’s friends, walked forward to sprinkle rose petals on them and yelled out loudly. The sports cars behind them were decorated like wedding cars. “Sharon George, the daughter of the George family!” Finally, Fiona could not stand it anymore and got up from the ground. She ran outside and tried to see if it was the rich woman who wore a mask. She could not help but exclaimed after she recognized the fat woman in front of her.

Fiona didn't glance at him—but her glare was so loud it spoke in a language of its own. They locked eyes with each other, their mutual hatred blazing just beneath their very skin. Fire and ice, dancing an impossible waltz. Then Jamaica reclined in her throne-chair, tapping her fingers on the rim of her cup. "Well then," she declared. "That's settled. Wedding in a month. Garden wedding. Fiona, dress like you didn't start out with money—but that money wept when it laid eyes on you." Fiona hacked painfully into her napkin. Charles gulped the last of his wine as if it were vodka.

This was the third time my fiancé, Miles Morretti, had walked away from our wedding—because of his stepsister. I stood at the altar in my white silk gown, the one I'd spent months choosing, feeling the weight of two hundred pairs of eyes burning into my back. The morning had been perfect—too perfect, I realized now. The sun streaming through the stained glass windows, casting rainbow patterns across the marble floor. The scent of white roses and peonies filling the air.

"Trevor's really gone too far this time. He's humiliating Helena in front of everyone." I ignored them all and glanced down at my phone. Jordan's chat window held only three words, sent five minutes ago. "Wait for me." Right on cue, the wedding march began to play. Trevor stood beneath the flower arch in a white suit. He stared toward the entrance with what looked like tenderness in his eyes, The doors slowly opened. Sophie walked in wearing the wedding dress she had shredded and then hastily patched back together overnight with lace. Holding onto Trevor's dad's arms, she strode proudly down the aisle.