Paper Promise: The Substitute Bride Novels & Stories

He has the gun in his hand and the look on his face tells Ally he has used it before. “I am not the bride.” Ally tells him in a small voice. She cannot remember ever feeling so intimidated by someone. “Okay, I am going to explain this to you one more time. Listen carefully. You are now the new bride. Megan is being escorted to a safehouse where she will not even be found by the Symons family. I made very sure of that. You are her replacement. Eric is expecting a bride. You are that bride. Now get into that dress so the wedding can start at the right time. We do not want to keep a blind man waiting.” He tells her with a sarcastic tone tainting every single word.

He pushed his glasses up methodically, revealing eyes devoid of any warmth—only calculation and cruelty remained. "Don't blame me, Diana. That's a new drug Wade picked up from his casino connections. When it kicks in, the symptoms mimic acute heart failure, but the pain is ten times worse." He pulled two documents from his pocket and slapped them onto Diana's small vanity. "Choose one. The first: you obediently take Leila's place in this marriage. We keep the bride price, you remain a York daughter, and we remain your brothers. If the Russells ever mistreat you, we will be your safety net."

she asked. “No happy family nonsense?” I smiled. “I assure you, I have no desire to play happy families. I simply want an heir.” “An heir?” she said. “Are you royalty or something?” I ignored that too. “So,” I asked, “do we have a deal?” I sweetened the offer. Private housing. A car. Total privacy. She smiled. “Fine. Add it to the contract.” Then she asked, “Where are you from anyway?” “Upstate,” I said. “A place called Fell Village.”

I didn’t need to read it in detail to know what this was. “What is this?” I asked, though part of me already knew. He didn’t look at me when he spoke, just kept cutting his food, taking his time. “we’ve finalized the contract,” he said, his voice calm, as if he were talking about a business deal instead of my life. “Mr. Caruso is now fine with the arrangement. This is the court marriage document. You’ll sign your part tonight.” I blinked, staring at the paper in front of me. “And then?”

The flowers were perfect. That was the only thing going right. I had been awake since four in the morning making sure that the roses with just enough blush to look romantic without being loud, greenery that didn't overpower, ribbon tied the way Vivienne had shown me three times on a YouTube video she'd sent at midnight. Everything was perfect. The bride just wasn't here. Her text came at 6:47 a.m. "I'm sorry, Aria. I can't do it. Don't hate me. Please don't hate me."

said the officiant, “Sir Luke Von Aleister, it’s your turn.” Luke was standing, lost in his thoughts of how to get back at Kenny, when the officiant asked for his vows. Luke was silent. He had no vows for a lady he doesn’t even know. His vows were for Rose Ashton, the girl he always dreamt of marrying. After waiting for a while without any response from Luke, the officiant proceeded. “I hereby pronouns Sir Luke Von Aleister and madam...” “What’s your name?” the officiant whispered to the pregnant lady, to which she responded, “Pamela Newman.”

"We worked our asses off for that party, to impress 'the boss' we knew nothing about. You panicked when you heard the bride was missing, and suddenly, you’re announced as the bride? Does that make sense?" I cleared my throat, looking away. "That’s a silly question," I muttered, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. Of all people, I hadn't expected Nora to buy the lie. She wasn’t just my assistant—she was my friend. That was why I had been avoiding a one-on-one conversation with her for so long. "Are you a substitute?" she asked, her voice quieter now. "Did you stand in to save face for Mr. Voss?" Her dark blue eyes met mine, filled with curiosity.

“We’re not buying a couture dress, okay? This is a court wedding. Ten minutes of signing papers and it's all over.” She snorts. “Pamela. Pamela! You’re marrying Massimo D’Amato. The man could probably buy Valentino and use the dresses as napkins.” She grabs my shoulders. “This wedding is going to be the highlight of your twenties. Even if it’s fake, you’re gonna look like a goddess.” I groan. “It’s not a wedding. It’s just a… contractual obligation with witnesses.” “With photos,” she counters. “Photos that’ll be all over the Internet for the haters to prey upon. Photos your future self will cringe at if you wear some sad beige sack instead.”

snapped, pushing off the wall. His protective instincts flared up, and for once, I didn’t mind his anger. Papa raised a hand to quiet him. "This isn’t up for discussion. The De Lucca family has been allied with the Parker family for generations. This marriage will secure our power, not just in America but throughout Europe." Marriage. The word hit me like a punch. My mouth went dry, but I forced myself to speak. "So, by marriage, you mean me." My voice was low but sharp, shaking with barely contained rage. Papa's gaze locked onto mine. "Yes. You will marry Riccardo De Lucca." The room felt like it was spinning, my vision blurring at the edges. I jumped up from the couch, the soft rustle

He was my husband. I retched again. The guy at the other end of the camera abandoned his phone, ran off somewhere and returned with a shirt on, the first few buttons undone and the sleeve rolled up. He looked good. Maybe he was Ace’s brother. “We finally see the beautiful new bride you wouldn't stop rambling about.” He rambled about me? I wondered what he said. Did he talk about my body? Oh, wait! Did he tell him about how I desperately threw myself at him?