My Groom Novels & Stories

she beckoned to Ayodele. “Your….your what?” “My groom for the day, this is the man I am getting married to today,” Tanya said, her tone commanding. “I know you will be the cause for having grey hairs in my prime, Tanya. You had better explain what this is about later to me” she said briskly as she looked Ayodele over “Yes, the ones I got should be fine. Now let’s go. Chop, chop” she clapped her hands and the ladies helped Tanya into the car.

**Isabella's POV** The organ swelled like it was trying to rip my heart out through my ribcage. Every step down that endless marble aisle felt like walking the plank. Five hundred pairs of eyes burned into me, but I only saw one face. Alexander Knight. My groom. The man who, twenty minutes ago, had been balls-deep in my maid of honor.

Then, the heavy wooden doors of the main estate opened. The groom stepped out first, and my breath caught. Rohan looked incredibly striking, his usual rugged edge smoothed down by a tailored black suit that fit his broad shoulders perfectly. But my eyes quickly drifted downward. Right next to him, sitting in his sleek black wheelchair, was Derek. Seeing my husband acting as the best man while looking completely indifferent to my absence tore a fresh hole in my chest. A slow, hauntingly beautiful melody began to play—a song specifically written for the union of the two most powerful packs in the region. The crowd went completely silent.

I plucked the groom's boutonniere and handed it to my wife, Rose Lane, then didn't bother with the subtle looks she and the people around us were exchanging. I just walked out of the hotel. Rose didn't come after me. Behind me, the hall erupted in applause as Rose and Zachary Zimmer took the stage, surrounded by the celebrating crowd. I knew this wasn't an accident. It was Zachary's way of poking at me. Too bad Rose couldn't—or wouldn't—see it. Maybe she saw and was deliberately letting it slide.

Before I knew it, my leg was moving towards the door. His disgusted face from last night flashed before me, halting my movement. Will he blame me? Resent me from bringing him into my troublesome messed up world? My throat bobbed, the tightness in my chest multiplying. Even heavier than it was during the night. I couldn't bring myself to continue. To see his hate filled eyes, angrily demanding to go home. Ben offered me a tablet. A video was playing on it. Ryker. My groom stood there, his back to the camera, in our wedding chambers, dressed in dark blue pajamas. But the pajamas weren't what made my heart skip.

"I promise I know what I did wrong, Giselle," Benjamin said humbly. "I've already fired Chelsea, deleted all her contact details, and even finalized the divorce with her. I promise I won't have anything to do with her or her daughter again." He looked apologetic. "Please don't be mad at me anymore. Come back with me, and we'll get married, okay? I've already picked the venue and ordered the outfit. Everything is ready. I'm just missing you, the bride…"

The officiant asked me in his priestly glory, "Mr. Nicholas Shaw, do you take Miss Tiffany Wilson to be your lawfully wedded wife? "To have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, and till death do you part?" "I do."

He leaned in, the tip of his nose brushing along my jaw. "You look alike," he said. "Definitely." "But not the same. I've known since the church." If I weren't already frozen, it might have happened now. The church. Which meant he had stood across from me and taken my hands and said the words and slid the ring onto my finger already knowing – or at least suspecting – and had said nothing. He had smiled for the cameras and shaken hands and moved through three hours of his own wedding reception carrying this question like a stone in his pocket.

It couldn't be kaiser. He wore a pristine white suit; his hair freshly cut and parted in the centre. In months I hadn't seen him look this composed, this handsome. I would know him anywhere — even from distance, even when his face leaned close to another’s. It was that bastard. I wasn't dreaming. He stood there as the groom, immediately after refusing to make me his luna.

Ariel must have passed around the rumor. ‘Look at him.’ The voice urged on, and I lifted my head, looking at my groom. He was in a black tuxedo with a bowtie, and his hair was nicely brushed back. His tuxedo had emblems on it, but from here I couldn’t see clearly. Just like I had practiced, I stopped a few strides from him, and he got down from the dais walking to me. He offered me his hand, and I placed mine in his palm, then he led me to the front.