His Exclusive Silent Bride Novels & Stories

I blinked profusely, my eyes already blurry. I sighed—You can't tell me what to do. Over my head body would I marry someone like him. "Your father has already signed the papers. You're already theirs." Caro laughed. "Can't believe you'd be getting married to a crippled man." “Acting like you do have a choice,” Caro chuckled. “Do you expect me to marry him instead? Oh my! You're disabled, he's crippled, what a perfect match! Two disabled people coming together to form a union.” She gasped dramatically, covering her mouth.

"You had no right!" "I have every right," Silas countered, his eyes darkening with a sudden, sharp intensity. "Read the fine print, Verina. You belong to me now. Your time, your body, and your secrets. If I want to walk into your home, I will. If I want to know what you’re thinking, I’ll find out. You are the Vane bride now, and you will act the part."

Imperial Plaza had never been more fortified. Inside the bridal suite, Sophia twirled, dress billowing like a queen’s banner. Silas and Rebecca entered in awe of the wealth, not the woman. Their eyes glistened. “We’ve made it,” Silas whispered to his wife. Anna adjusted Sophia’s train, then whispered, “Don’t forget to smile. You're marrying the hottest bachelor in New York.” Fifteen Minutes Before the Wedding Ethan checked his watch. Still nothing. Allan stepped in, bruised lip swelling from last night’s blow.

Not to hear him. But my head was spinning. They left us alone again. I shifted on my feet, my heels aching, my hands clutching the sides of my dress like it was the only thing holding me together. The crowd shifted. A woman with red lipstick whispered something behind her hand. A man in a navy suit chuckled. Another lifted a phone and took a photo of Elias, then of me. The contrast. The Billionaire and the Broken Bride. I wanted to scream. Instead, I signed to Elias, slowly: “Can we go home now?”

Ivory said and then walked back downstairs, she had dressed up already. I didn’t argue, I wore the dress placed on the bed behind me and then stepped downstairs, Kian had been waiting in the car already, I slid into the car and with silence the driver drove off. We reached the altar, it was a very quiet wedding, no woman could ever dream of this wedding. “You may now kiss the bride.” Silence. Kian didn’t move. His jaw clenched once, eyes sharp as a blade. His hand was around mine—cold, firm, impersonal.

The bride should gleam in her husband's arm during their first dance. But neither of the brides were blushing or happy while dancing with their husbands. Sila was still trying to accept the fact that she was married to an Italian, specifically the future Capo, Klaus Barbieri. While Rose was scared to death as her mind kept painting the images of the upcoming wedding night. Oh dear God! What if He was too… “Stop it!” Vladimir hissed coldly, Rose jumped, startled.

He grabbed everyone's attention with the two things he was holding. "Ladies and gentlemen! May I have your attention please!” he began. We all focused on him, Javier holding my hand. I wanted to remove it but I saw Hannah looking at us so I didn't continue. "Today is an important day for my grandson and his wife. Thank you very much to those who attended, I know you were surprised by the news that he is getting married. We, his family, were also surprised too…” I bowed in shame, I heard people's laughter but my family and Javier's family were silent except for Mrs. Stevenson who joined in the laughter of the crowd.

His palm caressed her scalp, her skull, the soft blonde snaking around his fingers. “Why?” Nothing written. Whatever his bride was feeling was wordless. Her cries an enduring wail catching in her throat and heaving her chest. Having no voice, having no choice, she lay, wounded and waiting. “Why did you do this?” No page turned. I don’t know, he wanted to say. “You do know.” The Bic was silent. He was close. If he were to shout, or even whisper, at the bottom, his voice could carry through that quarter inch gap separating floor from door and directly into the hall.

His eyes slowly scrutinized her as Crystal still smiled at him. “How can you be talking to him instead of helping your fiancee up.” Micheal interrupted them as Crystal glanced at him nonchalantly, “Sorry, Can we go somewhere quiet to talk.” She turned to the man who nodded. They both walked out of the party without anyone really noticing their absence. They walked through the garden in silence, as the cold air blew against Crystal’s skin, she unconsciously wrapped her arms around herself. But then a thick jacket and a pleasant muscular scent wrapped around her. She looked up to see him standing behind her, “Thank you.” She mumbled.

"Good?" "Embarrassingly good." Something genuine crossed his face. Not the almost-smile. The real one, brief and unguarded, that she had only seen twice before — once in his mother's kitchen talking about Lebanese food on best china, and once in the dark garden in the Cotswolds. She looked away before he could put it away again. They ended up at a small table outside a coffee stall with paper cups and the particular comfortable silence that had become characteristic of them when nothing was required.