My Stepsister Stole My Groom Novels & Stories

She said in a low voice. I opened my mouth but before I could utter another word, Stefan grabbed my hand roughly, pushed me out of the room and locked the door shut in my face. "No. No. No!" I banged at the door as tears filled my eyes. The night that I had planned so carefully was being ruined and my own sister was behind it. I heard a noise and I stopped and listened as dread filled my body. "Yes baby, just like that. Oh fuck yes! Yes!" I opened my mouth as utter shock and pain filled my body. My husband was fucking my step sister on our wedding night. Hot tears dropped from my eyes as the wet sounds and moaning grew louder and louder.

Forcing the lump down my throat, I managed a smile, one that didn't reach my eyes. " Have you forgotten? Nobody chased me away from here, I Just left because I wanted some fresh air. This is my home and the man you are looking forward to getting engaged to is my man. Alicia, don't you think you are pathetic? Forcing yourself on a man that doesn't want you. That's such a low move." Since she wanted to challenge me, I would remind her that Infront of me, she was just like a crazy dog scrambling to snatch what was mine

“Then stop teasing and make me come already.” He dropped to his knees right there on the gym floor, yanking my shorts down. His mouth was on me in seconds. I threaded my fingers through his dark hair, trying not to cry out as he took me deep, throat working around me. The sight of my serious, bad-boy stepbrother on his knees for me was almost enough to finish me off. “Fuck, Liam… I’m close…”

After removing the veil from the bride's head and handing it to my husband, Ethan Stewart, I ignored the strange expressions on his and everyone else's faces. I, Nora Letterman, turned around and walked straight out of the wedding venue. Even after I left the venue, Ethan still didn't come after me. Behind me, there was thunderous applause. He and Mia Jenner were surrounded by the crowd as they walked onto the stage. I knew Ethan had already figured out that everything was Mia's doing. He just chose to let her have her way.

the third was a candid shot of me sleeping in my bedroom at the estate, my hair spilled across the pillow, my lips parted. "You..." I looked up, the horror curdling in my stomach. "You’ve been watching me. This isn't from the security cameras. Someone was there." Julian leaned forward, his large hands flat on the obsidian surface of his desk. The mask of the "grieving stepfather" didn't just slip; it disintegrated. His eyes, usually a cold, distant grey, burned with a dark, terrifying hunger. "I didn't marry your mother because I wanted a wife, Elara. I married her because it gave me a legal reason to be under the same roof as you. I bought her debts because it gave me a legal reason to keep

So I knew what a dead bride meant to a man like Vittorio DeLuca, and I knew what it would mean to the men on the other side of this alliance who had been looking for a reason to put their guns back on the table. The peace between our families was three years and a wedding away from becoming permanent. It was held together with wire and goodwill and not much else, and if I said the words Isabella is dead before those vows were spoken, that thin fragile wire would snap. So I didn't rush out of the room in a panic. Instead, I did something terrible. Something I would likely never be forgiven for. I walked into the room. I picked up the wedding dress. I hesitated for a brief moment.

Her throat was parched, but her hands caressed her flat lower abdomen. This caught his attention, and he turned to her, gaze sharp and distant. Their marriage wasn't perfect, but Axel took care of her. He never made her feel like she had no one left, especially the time her stepmother died. His eyes followed her movement as she tried to get out of bed. The IV needle in her wrist was snatched out by her. She pushed away the white duvet. But she had miscalculated because instead of stepping off the bed, she stumbled to the floor. She inhaled sharply from the pain.

Marcello was lost in thought about everything he had planned, but the most important thing of all was Monica De Rossi, his stepsister, the daughter of that damned woman. He would never forget that day, the day he hired a private investigator to gather information about them. When he saw her picture for the first time, he could hardly believe his eyes. She was the same woman he had met two years ago on the beach in Viareggio, the woman he had felt deeply drawn to and had never been able to forget since that night. And now, he had discovered that she was the daughter of his greatest enemy. What a cruel twist of fate. "We've finally arrived at the mansion."

My aunt pushed through the crowd and steadied me. She pointed at my stepmother and cursed. "You murderous witch! You must have drugged Genevieve to knock her out, then stole her destiny so your own daughter could marry the Crown Prince and live in luxury!" My stepmother's face turned deathly pale. She said through gritted teeth, "I arranged this wedding out of goodwill and now I'm the criminal? I've treated you like my own daughter. How could I harm you?" I shrank back. My sleeve accidentally slipped down, revealing a strip of dark red fabric.

I rolled my eyes. “Who is that hottie?” She asked. “Hyacinth’s lawyer, I think.” “Oh, wow. Your sister had a lawyer?” Giselle giggled. “I guess that he’s good in bed, that's why your sister kept him.” I scoffed. “Your sister is such a slut. Hey, I remember how she seduced your step-brother with that acne face and fat body.” “Yeah,” I sighed. “So, she ends up marrying your step-brother as a proxy bride? Does she still fuck with him? I mean, even in high school, she used her body to get him, right?”