Julian Ovenden Bridgerton Novels & Stories

No one else seemed to notice that Julian hadn't moved, hadn't smiled, hadn't done any of the things a groom was supposed to do when his bride walked toward him for the first time in two weeks. Sophie smiled anyway, the way Charlotte would have — bright, easy, a little knowing. "It's the lighting," she said. "Mother insisted on the dimmer chandelier. She thinks it's romantic." A ripple of polite laughter. The moment passed, or seemed to. Julian's expression smoothed back into something unreadable, and he offered Sophie his arm with the kind of formal courtesy that belonged to people who'd been taught manners before they were taught how to ride a bike. "Shall we?" he said.

On the evening of the third day, I'd just come out of the bridal shop when Julian called. His voice was cold. "Elena Hart." "Someone said they saw you at a bridal shop." My steps stopped. He gave a low laugh, his voice full of held-back displeasure. "So this is the personal matter you meant." "When did you get so bad at telling what's important and what isn't?" I said nothing. Julian seemed to lose his patience entirely. "The Underground territory. Since you don't want it, don't bother thinking about it ever again." "As for the wedding dress, try on all you like."

Beatrice, her stepmother, would undoubtedly use the opportunity to banish her forever. Julian lowered his phone, stepping forward until his towering frame pinned Elena against the wall. He leaned down, bringing his lips close to her ear. "You know, ever since I first saw this photo on that site, I've been incredibly curious ... just how exquisite my sister-in-law's body is, hidden beneath those baggy clothes you always wear," Julian whispered in a dark, sensual, and wicked tone. "I can't wait to taste you. To shatter your innocence, and take that purity you pride yourself on."

But Juliana's eyes were in search of only one person, which was her fiance, Adrian Butler. At last, she found her fiance talking to someone while drinking from the glass standing beside the table. Naturally, a smile appeared on her face and she walked to her fiance while other people were still looking at her. But soon the smile on her face changed into seriousness when she saw that her fiance was talking to… none other than Alice Rivera, the number one model and the only person who Juliana never liked. Maybe it was because of their past row which happened a few years ago when Alice didn't like Juliana's design or maybe Juliana never liked Alice because she saw that Alice has feelings for he

“Sorry, honey. We’re just… enjoying the honeymoon. How are you holding up? Is the house okay? Are you and Enzo getting along?” “Yeah, everything’s fine,” I lied smoothly. “The house is quiet. Enzo’s… around. We’re managing.” “Good, good. I was worried you two might butt heads. He can be a little intense sometimes, but he’s a good boy deep down. Dante says he’s really smart with law school. You two could study together or something.” I forced a chuckle. “Yeah, maybe. How’s the honeymoon? You having fun?” “Oh, Julian, it’s perfect.” Her voice got dreamy. “The beach is beautiful. The water is so warm. We went snorkeling yesterday and saw the most gorgeous fish. Dante keeps spoiling me rotten. H

Beside it Julian signed his name in a sharp, aggressive scrabble. I am Mrs Julian Silverton. The thought was a heavy weight in my stomach. Mia sat on a bench nearby, clutching a tattered teddy bear, her eyes wide with terror. I looked at her and reminded myself: This is for her. If I have to endure his insults, if I have to live in a house of ice, it’s so she never has to feel Beatrice’s hand across her face again. “Done,”Julian said, standing up and buttoning his jacket. He didn’t look at me. He didn’t offer a ring.

“But he’s made up his mind. He’s going to propose to Vanessa even though he’s made it completely clear that he’s not in love with her.” “Well, good luck to Vanessa Bernard,” Julianne giggled. “I’m sure, as an heiress, she could totally hold her own.” “Or good luck to Jin,” Justin said, his voice sounded a little worried. “I heard she could be quite a handful.” “I’m sure. Some said she’s quite a brat. But then again, who could blame her? She was born having everything at her beck and call.” Adrienne sighed heavily. “Hey, I grew up getting everything with a flick of my fingers but I was never a brat,” Julianne said. “It’s a good thing I was level-headed. Because, look at me now, all banished a

“It's said that seeing a Delmonte bride wearing an heirloom piece signifies the matriarch's approval. Would you say that's true?" I chuckled and narrowed my eyes at her playfully. She knew as well as I did that the Windsors guarded their family secrets heavily. “All I have to say is that I've always loved Richard's grandmother like she is my own, and I'm beyond grateful to receive her love in return. We had a great relationship long before I married Richard." She nodded at my non-answer and turned to Richard. "Could you tell us, Mr. Delmonte? What is it about Elena that made you fall for her, other than her obvious good looks?"

Is that how everybody saw it? "I'm surprised that he is enjoying his honeymoon without you, but no matter. Knowing him, he must be having a great time with one of his many admirers," Samantha continued and I could tell that she enjoyed every word that left her filthy mouth. "How dare-" Bridgette began but I rose my hand to silence her and she obeyed. "Does Benjamin know that you are here?" I asked and ignored the surprised looks on their faces for dropping his titles. "He told me that he doesn't want any concubines and I fear that he may not take your presence nicely."

Celeste never rushed a case. Especially not one like this. Julian Cross wasn’t the usual mark—he didn’t reek of entitlement or wear his infidelity like a cologne. He was careful. Controlled. And, annoyingly, attractive. Not in the usual way. Not the spray-tanned, gym-polished hedge fund type she was used to. Julian was tall, broad-shouldered, with dark hair that curled slightly at the collar and a beard that looked like it was trimmed by someone with a PhD in symmetry. His eyes were green—sharp, unreadable. The kind of eyes that didn’t blink unless they meant to.