Laboratory Gown

The night before our wedding, my fiancée let her so-called "best friend" butcher the gown my late mother had sewn, chopping it into a revealing mini dress. I rushed over with the ruined dress in my arms, ready to demand answers: only to catch their voices through the door: "Imagine him expecting me to wear something a dead woman stitched. What a curse!" Through the narrow gap, I saw my distant, frigid fiancée flushed with color, straddling his lap. "What we did at the bridal shop wasn't enough," she murmured. "Tomorrow, walking down the aisle in this tiny dress you made me, it'll be even more exhilarating." Their lips met. My hand froze against the door, and inside, something broke with a soundless crack. If she longed for thrills, I would grant her some.

For five years, my fated mate, Alpha Kaelen and I have had 98 marking ceremonies. And every single time, his teeth would stop right at my neck. All because the Omega he claimed was "like a sister" to him always managed to faint at just the "right" moment. At the 99th ceremony, that Omega got "hurt" again. "I swear I'll complete the marking next time," Kaelen said, scooping up the other she-wolf without a backward glance. I burned the Luna gown I'd worn 99 times and changed back into my royal princess dress from the Moonshadow Realm. Then severed my mate bond and walked away without a second glance. It wasn't until searing pain hit Kaelen, and he crying for me to come back, that the Shaman coldly told him: "She is a true princess! And you were never worthy of her."

“I would rather be alone tonight.” I wasn’t prepared to sleep with this man. He had first taken my first kiss and now he wanted all of my body before the day was over. “People don’t tell me no Emily.” His hand caressed my cheeks down to my neck before hovering over my cleavage. “I say want I want and they go ahead and do it.” “What if they say no?” I asked, breathless. His fingers were bringing reactions I couldn’t name, shutting my brain down, his fingers left my windpipe but I felt breathless. It seemed like his fingers became bolder with each breath I took. I didn’t know what his arms were doing behind my back till I felt my gown fall loose. “They never say no,” he repeated, sealing his words with a kiss behind my ears, drawing another gasp from my throat.

"Sign the papers, Zack. Three years was the deal. I’m done being your sanctuary." Zack stared at the man who had dragged him out of the dirt and taught him how to breathe again. Nathan Durand, the crown prince of the Cocolink syndicate, stood like a monolith of ice, his silver eyes devoid of the heat that usually scorched Zack’s skin in the dark. "Is it because of her?" Zack’s voice was a jagged glass fragment. "Because Madeline is back?" "It’s because you’re a liability," Nathan snapped, his jaw tight enough to crack bone. "I need a partner who carries a blade, not a ghost who jumps at shadows." THE BLURB Broken. Sold. Silent. Zackary Moreau spent a decade rotting in a basement, a secret prisoner of a man who used his rare bloodline as a laboratory experiment. When he finally breaks free, he doesn’t find liberty—he finds Nathan Durand. The lethal heir to the Cocolink mafia empire is everything Zack should fear: possessive, violent, and cold. But Nathan offers a bargain Zack can’t refuse: three years of marriage in exchange for a name that keeps the world at bay. Saved. Owned. Obsessed. For three years, they lived a lie that felt dangerously like a life. Nathan turned the shivering boy into a man of the syndicate, protecting him with a brutality that bordered on madness. But as the contract’s end date looms, the shadows return. Rival bosses want Zack’s blood, and a woman from Nathan’s past is back to claim the throne. On the eve of their anniversary, Nathan delivers the final blow: he wants a divorce.

Just for brushing against the hem of Eva Lawson, the heiress’s custom couture gown, Lucy Quinn's mother had her limbs broken, then thrown into the sea to die. The day Lucy dragged the arrogant heiress to court she thought that justice might finally be served. Eva was declared not guilty. Why? Because the defense attorney representing her was none other than Wyatt Grant, founder of the most untouchable law firm in River City, and Lucy Quinn’s husband. When the trial ended, the elegant and aloof man stepped down from the defense table and placed an apology letter in front of Lucy. "Lulu, sign it. You don’t want to be sued for defamation and end up in prison, do you?" His tone was calm and coaxing, but behind the lenses of his gold-rimmed glasses, his gaze was cold as ice. Lucy, tears stubbornly clinging to her eyes, looked up at him and said with a trembling voice, "Why, Wyatt, Why?"

Brilliant, independent, and famous — ganyan ang tingin ng mga tao kay Dr. Madeline Aguas Pastino. Bukod pa sa magandang career na meron siya bilang top doctor sa buong siyudad, may mapagmahal din siyang asawa. But her life ended on an operating table, at the hands of her husband... the very man she had trusted and loved. Pagmulat ng kanyang mga mata, hindi ospital ang bumungad sa kanya kundi isang marangyang bridal suite. Nakasuot ng wedding gown, at bumungad ang napakagwapong lalaki. Ang ipinagtataka niya ay hindi siya nito nakikilala bilang Madeline Pastino. He called her... Nicoline Castro. Hiding her past, she must play along while planning revenge against those people who planned to kill her.

The day I married Vincent Sorrentino, Lena, the Sorrentino family’s adopted daughter, threatened to jump off the steeple of the family church. Vincent left me standing at the altar in my custom wedding gown, no hesitation, just bolted after her. With every New York crime boss, politician, and oligarch staring at me, I looked out at the crowd and said loud and clear: “Any man who walks up here right now and says ‘I do’? I’ll marry you.” Three years later, Vincent was back into the Sorrentino family’s Long Island estate, Lena on his arm. I was sitting on the leather couch in the main living room, watching my favorate TV show. Vincent’s eyes locked on my huge pregnant belly, his jaw tight, growling through his teeth: “Whose bastard is in there?” I took a sip of orange juice, curled my lip into a smile, and said: “It's a Sorrentino baby, of course.”

“Come with me,“ he ordered.  “I'm not going anywhere!“ Freya stood her ground, looking up at his blank face.   Something flashed past his dark eyes as he heard her. “You really have some guts, don't you?“   “Well, I don't care what this is. I don't care why I'm in a wedding gown and why I'm being treated like I chose this. You could kill me if you want. But I'm not—”   “Is this about the kiss, my Lady?“ he asked, sounding amused.  Freya wanted the ground to open up and swallow her at that moment. Her face went scarlet red and she almost forgot the other reason why she was angry. “Why should I care about the fact that you didn't kiss me? I barely know you and—”   “Right.“ That was all he said before he gently grabbed her waist and crushed his lips on hers...

Just two days before our engagement, my fiance, Theodore Scott, kneels to adjust the hem of my dress, his fingers suddenly brushing lightly against my ankle. "Isabella, I've never seen you wear heels. You have such beautiful feet." I adjust the waistline of my gown in the mirror and answer casually, "I'm not used to them. My legs hurt when I walk in heels." "Just try them. High heels would look perfect with your mermaid dress." His palm glides up along my leg, stopping at the back of my knee. He murmurs, "Red-bottom stilettos—each step would sway so gracefully, and the way they'd peek out when you walk… You'd look breathtaking in them." I look up and catch his focused, burning gaze in the mirror. "Since when do you know about these things?"

Seven years after registering our marriage, my husband Gaius and I finally decided to hold the romantic wedding ceremony we had missed back then. That day, I wore the wedding gown I had designed myself and walked toward him with hopeful eyes. Before I could deliver my carefully prepared vows, an incident interrupted the moment. Amid the stunned murmurs of the guests, Gaius dashed toward the woman who had fainted—again—at my wedding. His voice trembled with urgency, eyes burning red. "Call an ambulance! Now!" He didn't even look back as he left the wedding hall. When the wedding bell rang seven times, I calmly pulled off my veil. Facing the guests who had yet to disperse, I smiled and said, "As you can see, today marks the divorce ceremony between Gaius and me. Please, eat and drink to your heart's content. Don't let the trip go to waste!"