Kill La Kill Wedding Dress

While setting up the wedding bed, I discovered an unidentified liquid on the sheets. In my new marital home, someone else had already stayed here! My mind went completely blank, and I video-called my fiance. Surprisingly, the call was answered instantly. "The new bed is really soft. I tried it out for you," said Jeremy's assistant, Rachel. She smiled, flirtatious and smug. Perfect. I don't want this man anymore.

On my wedding night, Sean Boswell was with his first love when I suffered a miscarriage as my kidnappers tortured me. I begged endlessly for him to save me, only for him to laugh, "You were just demanding a divorce in the morning, and now you're faking a kidnapping so that I'd come back? Is that the only thing you can do?" Eventually, when I gave up and stopped clinging on being Mrs. Boswell, he chased me to the airport, pleading with a crack in his voice, "Just stay, Anna. Let's make things how it used to be."

On what was supposed to be the happiest day of her life, Deviana was left at the altar. Her fiancé, Adrian, chose to walk away—for a woman from his past, Leviana, who had suddenly fallen ill and called for him. In front of the guests and countless flashing cameras, Deviana was forced to swallow the bitter truth: abandoned, humiliated, and ridiculed. But from the ruins of her pride and shattered heart, Deviana made a vow to rise again. She would not let Leviana steal everything—love, reputation, or power.

The fake daughter married my boyfriend. My mouth was taped and I was being chopped into pieces by her admirer. The entire family took turns to call me. My mother said, "How ungrateful you are. I should not have brought you home back then." Father added, "Don't bother coming back if you do not attend Samantha's wedding." Brother said, "Let me tell you, you shall root in hell if you choose not to attend the wedding." At that moment, I didn't even have the energy to shout for help due to excessive blood loss. Everyone lost their patience, "Speak up! Are you dead or what?" I could only see the calls being disconnected. One thing they did not know, I was really dead.

My name is Janet Chance, and I am a researcher focusing on cancer drug development. I have a blissful family life and a career worth fighting for. However, just as I am about to go save a life using my newly researched drug, I discover that the car specifically used to transport the drug has inexplicably disappeared. Upon checking the surveillance footage, I learn that my high school classmate, Melissa Lane, has driven it away. "What do you mean it's your car? This is my husband's car!" I snap back anxiously. "Give me back my car! Right now!" Just as I finish speaking, I hear a crowd's mocking laughter coming from the other end of the phone. "Do you know who you're talking to?" "Your car? This car belongs to the wealthiest man in the country!" Melissa immediately adds, "I'm about to marry the wealthiest man in Azlude! He was worried about my safety, so he specifically allowed me to take this car. "He told me it's very well protected with its bulletproof glass. How dare you say this car is yours, you penniless loser?" In order to take back the drug, I have no choice but to rush over to Melissa's wedding venue. That is when I see the man embracing her in the poster is Samuel Fuller, who is none other than the husband I have been married to for the past three years.

One night of passion. One ring. Two brothers It was meant to be one last night of freedom before a lifetime commitment to a man she knew nothing about. One night to forget all her sorrows and have fun. But a night of fun turned into a mistake she could never undo. It turned into a night of sin. Because the man who set her body on fire last night was her soon to be brother-in-law. And he’s not done with her. Now, she wore his brother’s ring, but he wore her secret like a crown. If she won’t come to him willingly, he’d gladly make her remember who made her scream.

"Here she comes, witch!" She hissed before throwing a beautiful black dress at me. I hurriedly grab it before it could land on the floor. She might find fault in that and end up starving for making the dress fall on the floor. Not only for a day but might go on for weeks. I was tempted to ask her what's the dress for but she beat me to it. "Go to your room now and change into this. Your husband to be and his mom will be visiting soon" "W... What?!!!"

Thalia Corsini's wedding night ends with seven bullets and her husband's blood soaking through her white dress. Rafael Torrisi dies in her arms before they can even consummate the marriage, and when she screams for help, nobody comes fast enough. Three days later, she's at another altar. Same family. Different brother. Dante Torrisi looks at her like she pulled the trigger herself. He's colder than Rafael ever was, more brutal, and infinitely more dangerous. Their marriage is a prison sentence designed to save a crumbling alliance between two crime families on the brink of war. But someone is still trying to kill Thalia. The attempts keep coming, a sniper's bullet, a car bomb, poison meant for her wine glass. Dante is forced to protect the woman he blames for his twin's death, and as they dig deeper into the murder, they realize Rafael might not have been the target at all. In a world where love is weakness and trust gets you killed, Thalia and Dante have to decide: destroy each other, or discover who really wanted her dead.

On our wedding night, my wife demanded that I wear a blindfold. She said her body was meant only for her true love. The words hit me like a bucket of ice water, and I snapped, "Are you my wife or his?" She shot back even louder, defiance blazing in her eyes. "I married you. Does that mean I have to show you my body? Coercion is still coercion, even in marriage. My body is only for Matt to see because you simply don't deserve it." Later, she said she wanted to truly be my wife. I found myself thinking she wasn't worthy anymore.

I go to the boutique my son has invested in to pick up the gown I've ordered for a banquet. Just as I'm about to leave, the manager, Wendy Reed, stops me and says that I still owe them money. She pulls out the bill. I look down at it and see that the boutique is charging me 300 thousand dollars for their creativity, 500 thousand dollars for fabric therapy, and one million dollars for their chief designer's mental wellness. On top of other expenses, the price totals up to two million dollars. I laugh incredulously and send a message to my secretary. "Withdraw our funding from my son's company and this boutique!"