Marinette Dress

In Alabama’s rot-soaked bayous, Drucilla Drakes survives by three rules: silence, scars, and never letting Louise—her Bible-thumping captor—catch her hoping. But when a schoolyard ambush leaves her bleeding beneath a stranger’s leather jacket, invisibility becomes a death sentence. Enter Dragon Morales: New Orleans’ most notorious runaway, a cartel prince turned outlaw mechanic with grease-stained hands and a death wish. He doesn’t save people—he survives them. Yet in Dru’s lashed flesh and hellfire gaze, he sees his own shattered reflection. Their bond is gasoline and matches. Dragon’s father—Colombia’s cartel kingpin—hunts them relentlessly. Louise, armed with voodoo rites and the chaos-hungry loa Marinette, vows to break Dru. Their only allies? The Lou Nwa, a bayou biker gang trading in bullets and black magic, and Papa Legba, the crossroads spirit who offers Dru a lethal bargain: *“Her soul or yours.”* Fleeing through the Deep South’s cursed underbelly, they dodge cartel hitmen, haunted swamps, and safehouses reeking of betrayal. Dark magic seeps into old wounds; family secrets tighten like nooses. Dragon swears he’s too ruined to love. Dru knows she’s too shattered to trust. But in the bayou’s choking heat, desire is a grenade they can’t outrun. This isn’t a fairytale. It’s switchblade kisses and saintly curses—a collision of fire and ruin where protectors become predators. Dru doesn’t need saving; she needs an inferno. And Dragon? He’s got a lighter and nothing left to burn. Will they raze the South to ashes, or become the sacrifice the crossroads demands? One truth remains: in the bayou, even survival leaves scars. **Warning:** No princes here. Just bayou smoke, blood-soaked magic, and the kind of love that devours.

A woman was chased by people who want to kill her. She was accused by many crimes. Now, her name is as dirty as her silky night dress as she run for her life. Hoping to escape and hide, she met another woman and a man who helped her. But as it turns out, one of them – or maybe both – or maybe all of them are traitors.

When Ava was forced to marry her stepsister Dora's impoverished fiancé Ethan, they never met. But the groom turned out to be a super hot billionaire. Dora snatched her wedding dress and wanted to be the bride again. Ava sat among the guests. Ethan, however, walked straight towards Ava and said to her, "You are the only one I want to marry."

Zachary Smithson was my uncle in name. When I was seventeen, I confessed to him, but he rejected me fiercely. He tore up my love letter and told me to give up on such thoughts. When I was twenty-two, I graduated and attempted to move out. To my surprise, I found a dress I had lost. He had hidden it under his pillow.

After setting a date with my online boyfriend to meet in person on New Year's Eve, I prepare a dress that will drive him mad. I also prepare a gift for him. To my surprise, he brings his twin brother with him. That's not all—he's only reserved one hotel room. I laugh when I see the identical faces before me.

"You belong to me!" he said in his deep, husky voice, sending shivers down my spine. "And you are mine to love, princess!" His tone was full of possessiveness. "Let me go-" I started to protest, but he silenced me by pressing his index finger to my lips. "Shh, be quiet!" he whispered softly against my lips. I looked into his eyes, which were filled with desire and longing. "It's just you and me tonight, and I want to make it special for us," his strong voice sent chills down my spine. My heart raced as I felt his fingers at the edge of my dress, ready to tear it away. *"I'm about to do the most sinful things with you now, Jaan!"* His voice echoed in my ears. "I've waited long enough!" His voice grew deeper with desire. "No, please-"before I finish my sentence, he interrupted me as air rushed around my body. He ripped my dress in two pieces.

Lena Clermont fell hard for her dad's friend, Andrew Rohan—twelve years older. The first time she saw him, he was all sharp suits and broad shoulders, effortlessly standing out. He smiled, patted her head, and handed her a princess dress. Fast forward to twenty. He got drugged at a banquet. She wore that same dress, offering herself as the cure.

At the Davenport family dinner, I arrive wearing the same dress Tucker Davenport's true love once wore. His face darkens immediately. He glares at me coldly and orders that my dress be burned on the spot. "Damn it, Willow, can't you show a little self-awareness? Shelby might be too naive to notice, but there's no way I'm letting you appear like this in front of her." The intense heat rushes toward me as the flames consume the fabric. A sharp, burning pain shoots between my legs, crashing over me like a tidal wave. The pain drags me under, but I suddenly jolt awake, barely able to gasp a plea for mercy. Tucker doesn't spare me a glance. He simply turns away to help Shelby cut the cake. Days later, he finally remembers I exist. "As long as you behave and don't bother Shelby again, you'll still be Mrs. Davenport." I stare at the burns on my legs as my tears dry up. I refuse to beg any longer. I'm done being Mrs. Davenport.

"Leave my office, Fremantle," he snapped me out of my dazed state and feeling my cheeks redden due to unshed tears, embarrassment and built up anger, I picked my dress and panties and then turned to go. "Wear the dress, Fremantle." "You can't be the only one to enjoy my nude body, Mr. Castile. I'm generous, so I think everyone should get a share." I said and then walked out of his office. He didn't stop me. But five steps later, I heard his voice over the house speaker. "All security exit the third floor immediately." ** Fremantle had never met anyone like him before. He was the direct opposite of her, the type of men her mother warned her about. But how could she stay away from a man who made her panties wet on the first day? She really should've listened to her mother.. Eron never imagined someone like her existed. He wanted her as his, but he also had a feud to take care of against her family. Which would dominate in the end? Love or Vendetta? R 18+

At my wedding rehearsal, my fiancé's colleague, Haley Rhodes burst in and tore apart the carefully arranged decor. "Ryan promised he'd marry me!" she shrieked, storming closer, "Who do you think you are?" Without warning, she lunged, grabbing hold of the wedding gown, which was worth a fortune. But she only got so far—she was too heavyset to even squeeze it past her head. I let out a mocking laugh. "Don't tell me you're too big to fit even a plus-size wedding dress?" That really set her off. With grim determination, she forced herself into the gown. But as soon as she did, the delicate fabric tore, leaving absurdly stretched holes across her back and waist. "Too bad the dress is ruined now. But who cares?" she sneered triumphantly. "Ryan loves me. He’ll buy me another wedding gown, anyway." But when the actual wedding began, she got the shock of her life. The groom walking down the aisle wasn’t Ryan at all. It was their boss — Ryan and Haley's boss. Well, I never said this was my wedding.