Last Minute Bride Novels & Stories

Blake asked with agitation. Pauline smiled, attempting to put on the charm. “Nothing to cause total upset future-in-law. Go back to you room and have a drink or something. I think there are appetizers left –” “I don’t want a drink or any damn appetizers. I want my bride,” Brad said bluntly. Uh oh. He’s about to lose it. “Let me in,” Blake ordered. “You can’t see the bride before the wedding. You know – ooo!” Pauline chirped as Blake pushed the door against her with force.

“I love you, Saben.” He squeezed her back tightly. “You’re always gonna be my baby sister. Even if you’re now legally someone else’s headache.” Damian raised a glass. “Proud to be.” Then the band struck up a jazzy version of “Can’t Help Falling in Love,” and the emcee returned to the stage. “Ladies and gentlemen, our bride and groom will be leaving soon—but not before one last surprise. We’re going full rom-com!” Eliana blinked. “Uh-oh. What does that mean?”

If someone had told her a year ago that this was possible, she would never have believed it. But there it was, in the chairs lined up side by side, and the aisle lined with flowers, that she was getting married. “Do you know that your Grandma was with your parents when they made their last visit and the decision to move to Silverlake?” Gran asked as Bree pulled away from the window. Gran had just entered to bring Brianna new sheets for their wedding night. “She was? But the report did not mention her,” Bree said while helping Gran remove all the pillowcases.

Vida said with teary eyes. "Don't cry or you'll ruin your makeup," Maria said with a hand squeeze. Vida reacted by raising her head and blinking multiple times to stop the tears from falling. They both laughed about it. "I am sorry." "I am even more sorry," Vida said, going in for a hug. They both stood still until a vendor came in to tell them that they would soon have to move to the venue of the wedding.

Yet, as the confetti settled and the headlines dimmed, the shadows of curiosity and scrutiny began to stir once more. Lila Chen, a relatively unknown blogger with a modest following, scrolled through the viral wedding livestreams late one evening, her tea gone cold at her side. She paused on a particular clip. Arla-Rosa, radiant in her gown, walking down the aisle with Prince Miguel at her side, while Master Ye followed silently, his presence calm yet commanding. The image alone spoke volumes. This was no ordinary bride. This was a woman the world had seen perform miracles.

Only then did she snap out of it. She rushed onto the stage, disbelief written across her face as she pointed at Lydia. "Sam, what the hell is this? Am I not the bride? How is it her?!" I picked up the microphone, enunciating each word clearly, "Miss Blair, I know exactly who my bride is." Lauren took a step forward, eyes reddening. "What do you mean? What about me?" I stopped Lydia from stepping in front of me and met Lauren’s gaze calmly. "Miss Blair, I believe there is no room for confusion. Lydia is my bride. You and I have broken up. I personally sent you the breakup message yesterday."

It buzzed again. Then again. Finally, he checked the screen and he faintest flicker of irritation crossed his face. “What’s wrong?” Elara asked quietly. Adrian didn’t respond. Instead, he turned the screen toward her. A trending headline glowed back at her: #LastMinuteBride Did Adrian Hale marry out of desperation? Who is this girl? Hidden mistress or secret deal? Elara’s breath caught. There were already thousands of comments, photos, speculations. One picture showed Adrian guiding her toward the reception hall, but the angle made it look like she was stumbling away from him.

For the event, or for how I looked in the dress, I couldn’t tell. I turned away first. The night moved forward in a blur of smiles, last-minute fixes, and congratulations from grateful clients. The bride was radiant. The groom couldn’t stop staring at her. Everything ran like clockwork. Until the first dance. The lights dimmed. The band began playing a slow, sultry version of “At Last.” Guests moved toward the dance floor. I was standing near the edge, checking my phone for any vendor emergencies, when a familiar deep voice spoke behind me.

“You think? My sister just tried to destroy us in public and you’re worried about last night?” He stepped closer. “I’m worried because part of me wanted to tell her to go to hell because you’re mine now. Not hers. Mine.” The words hung between us. I shook my head. “You can’t say things like that. Not when you still call me the wrong bride behind closed doors.” Alexander opened his mouth to reply but his phone rang. He checked the screen and cursed. “It’s the board. They heard about the scene.” He answered it and walked toward his office. “Yes, it’s handled… No, my wife and I are fine… Of course the marriage is real.”

I reply ecstatically. "Spain." I turned to Candice. She only smiled before turning back to Annie. "The question is meant for the bride alone," Annie reminded in a sharp tone. Then she cleared her throat and turned to me with a small smile. "You're...wrong." My brows furrowed. "It's Spain," she said in a mumble, but it was audible enough for me to hear. I heard a soft sound by my side, not quite a laugh. Candice had her hand pressed lightly over her mouth, and her eyes were bright. She looked directly at me with an expression that could have been sympathy but really wasn't.