My Stepsister Stole My Groom 소설 & 이야기

And he knelt. Right there on the pavement. People started noticing. A couple walking by stopped. Someone took out their phone. “Evelli,” Lucas said. His voice was steady. “Marry me.” He held out the flowers. Evelli didn’t move at first. She looked down at him, then at the flowers, and finally at the people watching. Annoyance flickered across her face, and then she stepped around him. No words. She simply walked away. Lucas remained kneeling a moment too long. The flowers felt stupid in his hands.

The age gap freakin disturbs me So much, more than it should even though I can choose to treat her as an adopted daughter, there's still a stupid document that says we are married. “So no honeymoon? Awww,” Gavin whined. So stupid. The wedding reception was loud, too loud and filled with annoyingly happy people who thought nothing wrong about this absurd match. The only person here not happy aside from me and the bride would probably be her stepsister and stepmother. “Can you not! Today is my wedding for God Sake! The bride yelled at her sister who just spilled wine on her dress. I rubbed my temple frustratedly. Who let these fucking bastards in here? Just as the bride stormed away with tears

But standing beside him, laughing softly with one hand gently resting on his chest, was— Victoria. My stepsister. My stomach twisted violently. That gesture… that intimacy—was that appropriate between my fiancé and my sister? But the true blow came next. Victoria was wearing my wedding gown. My gown. I forced a smile to Tristan, "I heard you brought my wedding dress back early." I suppressed all the disbelief in my heart. "Did something happen? " Victoria turned slowly. Her wide, doe-like eyes shimmered with guilt. My alarm bells screamed. That expression had always meant trouble—Victoria knew how to play innocent far too well.

Back on the wedding floor, guest were waiting, the priest has arrived then walked in the bride covered in her veil then walked in the older man she had seen on Tv her Stepmother and stepsister had this weird smile on their face . The older man walked in and stood in front of her, in front of the priest and front of the people, Mr Jason do you take Maya to be your lawful wedded Wife to love and to honour till death do you both part? Yes I do said the older man Miss Maya do you take take Jason here to be your lawful wedded husband to Love and honor till death do you both part? Tears dropped from Maya’s eyes but just as she was about to respond the voice came in WAIT. They all looked back only

Not until the swell of grief in my chest had quietly subsided did I close my fingers around it and look up. “My second condition.” Stepmother tensed immediately. “What else do you want?” I put on my most accommodating smile. “The exchange can happen. But it must be done in secret.” “Until the wedding is over, no one can know that the bride has been changed from me to Vicky.” The room fell silent again. Father's expression turned grave. “Do you understand what you're saying?” “Deceiving the Elder Council and the royal family is not a small matter.” I nodded.

“Don't you take another step closer to me.” Sniffing, I force on a brave face and glance in the direction of my evil look-alike stepsister. “What is she doing here? I don't remember inviting her." “Please, like I'll ever want anything to do with your pathetic wedding.” She scoffs. I glower at her. “Besides, there's not going to be a wedding; Crawford is not going to marry you." “He's not?" I mutter like a fool. “No. He's coming with me. To my wedding."

On the wedding day, my sister, Isabella De Luca, drugged me. She was going to steal my dress and marry my fiancé, the mafia heir Marco Moretti. Everyone was smiling at the happy couple on the altar. Everyone but me. I shot up from my seat in the back row. My voice tore through the sacred silence. "Stop! I object! This wedding is a sham!" Every head turned to face me. The bride, Isabella, went white. The groom, Marco, froze.

I miss her so much. My feet take a few steps forward, and I snatch a glass of champagne from the table to go ruin that fancy dress my supposed fiance, Gideon, got for my step-sister. The same dress he got for me, and makes me believe I’m so special. That piece of trash. A lying bastard. One more step toward them to ruin their happy moment, I hold myself back.

It took ten seconds or more to realize I had been openly tracing his nose, his eyes, his lips with my stare. “My mother is watching you, and only me, you, and your family know this is an arranged marriage. Be a good girl and smile.” He leaned back into his seat, and I followed his gaze; he was staring at Naiara, sitting at another table. I clenched my fists as heat prickled down my skin, my rage bubbling fiercely inside me. “You talk about marriage so respectfully, yet you slept with my stepsister the night before our wedding.” I blurted it out, hoping he would deny it, hoping he would say something to soothe the fire boiling within me.

"At least I'm not a lovesick puppy with daddy issues, still begging for affection from a man who'd rather screw my sister. How does it feel to be the unwanted bride, little Rebel?" It wasn't a rhetorical question but I couldn’t find the words to answer his question. I stood up from my seat, ready to leave his arrogant ass. “Well, you’ll be thrilled to know that your ex-fiancé is coming tonight—with his pregnant wife, who just happens to be your darling stepsister.” “What are you talking about?” I demanded and a smirk played on his lips, as he rose from his seat and walked towards me. His huge frame staring down at me like I was nothing but a possession.