I Died On My Wedding Day Novel の小説・ストーリー

I stared, my vision blurring, my fingers trembling as I scrolled through the articles, the pictures, the videos. Victor, down on one knee, slipping a ring onto Isabella’s finger. Isabella, beaming, flashing the diamond to the cameras. Headlines screaming Victor Sinclair and Isabella....The Wedding of the Year! My stomach twisted. My heart felt like it had been ripped in two. I let out a broken sob. “So this was why they wanted me dead?” I whispered. “This was why they planned everything?” The more I scrolled, the more pain I felt. They couldn’t even confirm my death. They couldn't even wait.

how unlucky she is to have her husband dead on the wedding day. "Dylan!" she suddenly wails in the pain so unbearable, her chest was heavy, so were the sobs. She had lost everything...her whole world was torn apart...there was no point of living in this world. If she cannot get what she wants, she doesn't want this life. Her eyes moved to focus on the old lady whose face was also covered with the billowing snow. Pidge had lost two of her precious people on the same day. Then, Maddox Dasher stepped in the wedding venue, the gun remains in his hand.

With trembling hands, I poured out the painkillers from the bottle and swallowed them with two sleeping pills. The medication took effect very quickly. As my consciousness started to fade, I looked up and saw the huge wedding photo on the wall. In the photo, Jordan's smile was radiant, with sunlight and my reflection dancing in his eyes. That image had been taken when we were most in love. Back then, he cupped my face and kissed me lightly, smiling as he said, "Liv, I'll be good to you for the rest of my life." For the rest of his life. What a casual lie.

Each confession was like a sharp knife cutting their hearts. Axel and Sean followed the trail, focusing their investigation on their deceased stepmother. This investigation uncovered an even more shocking truth! It turned out that their so-called stepmother had not died of illness! She had long been tired of my father and had a lover. However, she did not want to bear the stigma of abandoning her husband and daughter and even felt that having Cynthia with her would be a burden to her relationship with her new lover. Thus, she meticulously planned a staged death from a serious illness! She bribed the doctor and forged medical records and her death certificate. After leaving her last words ent

"Mrs. Falcone, neither of us have feelings for each other, so let's not torture ourselves anymore." Vincent sighed. He clearly understood our family's position, and he stopped Carmela from trying to persuade us further. He had the butler bring out the marriage contract, and we watched as both copies were torn apart, burned, and reduced to ashes. I finally felt like I could breathe again. I asked them, "Mrs. Falcone, I hope you won't tell anyone about this just yet. Let's take it slow and announce it later." They both nodded in agreement. *****

"Nobody." Where was that boy now? Where was the man who used to look at her like she was special? He was gone. That Diro died on their wedding day three years ago when this cold stranger said words that broke her heart. "Don't fall in love with me," he had said without any feeling. "I'm only marrying you because my grandfather felt sorry for you. If not for that, I wouldn't even touch you. I don't care about you. You know I don't love you, so don't make the mistake of loving me back. I'm just doing this because a dead man wanted me to."

He gently asked as he wiped my tears. What? Now it dawned on me why I was in a wedding dress. All over again. “It can't be. I died on my wedding day.” “What?.” Ace said in disbelief. “Yes. I was hit over the head by my husband's mistress.” “Are you sure you didn't slip and fall? You're not making sense, Annabelle.” I looked at his face and concluded that there was no getting through to him. At least for now. I gathered my dress in my hands and stood up abruptly.

Scarlett’s POV. I died on my wedding night. Not figuratively. Not the way love poets say it—some aching metaphor for heartbreak. I mean literally, as in stabbed to death in my wedding dress. And the man who did it—my husband. I never saw it coming, which is what makes this all so sick. Being killed by the person I loved most in the world—there’s no words for that kind of betrayal. I gave him everything. Trusted him with every deepest part of me. Turns out, I loved the wrong person…

I thought that she would be contemptuous of me, but she merely held me tenderly and said that it was all her fault that I had suffered so much. To protect my pride, Rhiannon asked Vivian to bring our wedding date forward. Vivian was unhappy with me because of what had happened, but she still loved me, and she had no choice but to agree. My suit was handmade with very intricate details, and it was flown in. When I tried it on, Brianna cried a flood of tears. Callum and Rhiannon were also very touched. There was a flash of surprise in Vivian's eyes when she saw me. She took my hand and kissed it. "Damon, let's leave the past behind. Let's live a happy life together."

And she did. She told him about her first life. About the wedding, the marriage, the years of cold distance. She told him about the night Virelle came to her chambers, the night she learned the truth about the mate bond, the night she died. She told him about the blade. About the pain. About the laughter that followed her into darkness. She told him about waking up on her wedding day, the memories crashing over her like a wave. She told him about her plan to survive, her determination to change her fate.