Mistaken Marriage Bride Novels & Stories

“We’ll pick you up tomorrow at 9 AM sharp for your engagement prep. Be ready.” I gulped. Ready? I don’t think I ever will be. Game on, Lyka. Let the masquerade begin. DAYS PASSED by unnoticed. Here I am now inside the house, nervously waiting. Today’s the day I’ll finally meet the man I’m supposed to marry. Auntie Helen told me Kyran would pick me up personally, but he’ll ride in a different car with his staff. “Just be yourself, darling,” Mommy Helen said gently. Mommy. I have to get used to calling auntie Helen Mommy now since I’m pretending to be Kyla. I gave her a small smile.

I just can’t be married to someone like him. “We apologize for this, it was our mistake, we were wrong for switching the bride, but it needed to be done,” Father said politely, and I rolled my eyes mentally. I didn’t think he could be this calm. “We need the reason why the bride was switched, this wasn’t the girl I had agreed for my son,” I knew it, definitely the Mother. “Karisa ran away before the wedding,” Father said humbly. Never seen him this humble in my life.

I pointed out curiously. "Bridget has been going nuts lately, I heard she has been trying to dispose your properties illegally but I stopped her, so it doesn't matter anymore and also she contradicted herself, she said your husband is after your money which is very impossible because from my research, you husband is a billionaire and he doesn't need your money and also, I don't see you as someone that will go to that length." I am glad that he doesn't believe her but he is wrong about me, I am that girl. I was really desperate to make sure that Bridget didn't end up with the inheritance and I agreed to a contract marriage, I am just lucky that we ended up falling in love.

He clenched his fists, maintaining a calm expression, but he was facing the worst-case scenario. He had been deceived. The real one—the woman who was supposed to be there—had vanished and handed him off to a substitute. And he? He was about to sign a marriage contract with a complete stranger in front of the entire society. But Andrews Westwood would never allow himself to be seen as a humiliated and fooled man. His face remained unreadable. No emotion showed as the bride came to stand beside him. The veil was lifted, revealing a face he had never seen up close before. The camera flashes began capturing every second—and in that moment, Andrews’ bride was presented to the world.

“I remember it now. Yes. It was quite the scandal. The groom on that day publicly left the bride at the altar and married her little sister whom he claimed to love. Everyone was shocked. The bride ran out of the hall before anyone could stop her.” I felt sick. “What happened to her?” “She... she had an accident. Car crash. Died instantly. Or so we were told because no one ever saw her corpse." A cold chill settled in my bones. I took a few steps back, trying to breathe. No. No, no, no. That couldn’t be me. With trembling fingers, I unfolded the newspaper and held it out to him. “Is this the bride?” I asked. Lawrence took the paper, his expression casual at first—but the second his eyes lande

the clerk paused, pausing to avoid another blunder, “Daryl...do you take him to be your lawfully wedded husband?” “I do,” Emily answered firmly, her voice wavering slightly, but the determination behind her words shone through. “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may exchange rings,” the clerk stated, signaling the end of the officialities with a practiced professionalism. Dylan fumbled in his pocket, his fingers brushing against the box of the ring he had brought for his actual bride. With an air of disinterest, he opened the box to reveal a stunning golden band with an intricate diamond.

Smiled. “Instead,” he said, stepping back, “I’ve asked someone else to be my bride.” My knees nearly gave way but I stood still, every cell in my body screaming. Out of the crowd, she stepped forward. Clarissa. My sister. Wearing my dress. "Liam," I breathed. "What are you doing?" He didn’t answer me. He extended his hand, to her. “Clarissa, love, come here.” And just like a rehearsed pageantry, she strode down the red carpet, a smile carved on her lips as she walked towards him, confident, calm and cruel.

Like she was making sure no one else was coming. Then she leaned in so close I could feel her breath against my ear. "Señora," she whispered. Her voice shook on every syllable. "Please. Listen to me. Tomorrow at dawn, you cannot marry him. You have to run tonight. Whatever you have to do." I sat up sharply. "What are you talking about? Who is he? What is his name?" Her eyes flicked back to the main door. Wide. Terrified. "His name is Iker Vidal-Montenegro," she breathed. "And the last three brides who were brought into this house..." She swallowed hard. "None of them ever walked out alive."

One mistake. One small mistake and her life had changed. Marie stared at the contract papers. That was it, it was done. She was officially a wife again, except to the wrong man, to the wrong brother. “Here,” she said, handing Bruce the papers back. He looked at her, his eyes widening slightly as their fingers brushed. This was all wrong, she knew he felt it too, but it was too late. “So…” Bruce cleared his throat. “It's official.”

He let go of my wrists, his hands sliding up my arms, strong and possessive, until his palms framed my jaw, lifting my face into the light. "I knew right then," Dante said softly, his thumb tracing the curve of my bottom lip. "If I ever put a woman in this tower, if I ever let someone sleep behind my locks, it wouldn't be a socialite looking for an expense account. It would be the only person in Chicago who knows what it costs to bleed for the people she loves." "Dante," I whispered, my heart knocking violently against my ribs. "You're not a substitute bride, Eloise," he said, his gray eyes burning into mine with an intensity that stole the remaining air from my chest. "You were the only bri