Parent Trap Wedding Dress Novels & Stories

It was the night before my best mate’s wedding—his bachelor party, we made a deal to get blind drunk, but I arrived late. When I opened the door, I was not met with cheers, but with three corpses stalled in motion. My body went limp as my mind went blank. The only thought left in my head was that I had to call the police. “I’m calling from Block 3, Unit 301 of Silkwood Gardens. My three friends are all dead!” On the other end of the line, a female police officer responded calmly, “Please stay calm and don’t touch anything. Keep the crime scene untouched. A team will arrive shortly.” This should have been a night of wild debauchery, but I was the only one left alive. I slowly ducked my head and smiled.

On my wedding day, my sister was drugged by my fiancé's best friend and viciously assaulted by a group of groomsmen. When she came to, the shame and horror drove her to leap to her death, her broken body crumpling at my feet. Herbert Brady shielded my eyes from the grisly sight, vowing to make things right. But when the truth came out that Lori Reilly was behind it, he smashed my phone to keep me from calling the police. Lori shrugged with mock innocence. "The guys were just messing around. So what if they tore her clothes off? I've been half-naked around them plenty of times. Why was she so fragile?" She slung her arm around Herbert's neck, whining, "I told you not to marry some broke nobody. Poor people have such brittle pride. Look at the mess Mona has made." When I demanded justice, Herbert stayed cool, sliding a Centurion card across the table. "Ten million dollars. Enough to buy your silence? Lori is one of us, part of the city's elite inner circle. Push your luck, and you're making enemies of everyone who runs this town. Come on, it was just a wedding prank gone wrong." I seized the car and snapped it like a twig. Ten million dollars? To buy the life of the Woodard family's cherished heiress?

I dated my younger brother’s best friend, Dylan Lane, for three years. More than once, he told me how much he loathed arranged marriages and how he hated being chained by family interests. However, one night, after another bout of indulgence, he wrapped his arms around me and begged me sweetly to design a wedding ring for his fiancée—someone he had never even met. The smile froze on my face, yet he just said indifferently, “Aren’t people like us all destined to marry for our families' benefit?” Seeing the blood drain from my face, he even chuckled. “Vee, don’t you tell me you're still as naïve as a 20-year-old girl, thinking I would ever marry you? At most, we're just… pillow friends." Later, I agreed to the marriage my family had arranged for me. Dylan showed up on my wedding day, disheveled and red-eyed. He fell to his knees and begged me not to leave. I stood beside my new husband, hand in hand, and smiled faintly as I chuckled. “Didn’t you say people like us were born for arranged marriages? I’m simply doing what you always wanted me to do. Shouldn’t you be happy?”

On my wedding night, I was drugged and betrayed by the very people who were supposed to protect me. And then, I fell into the arms of a stranger, unconscious yet feeling every single sigh. Three years later, I’m a nanny trying to rebuild my life, only to discover that my new boss, who is rarely at home, is the same billionaire from that night. The man whose face no one has seen, but whose name never leaves the lips of the public. And the little girl he is raising? She is the baby I was told had died.

Every woman who marries into the Ardhana family dies on her wedding night. Alika, a quiet orphan with no memory of her past, is suddenly chosen to marry Damar Ardhana—the cold heir of a powerful bloodline surrounded by rumors, fear, and unanswered deaths. The town calls it a curse. Seven brides. Seven deaths. Always on the first night. No one survives the Ardhana wedding. Alika never believed in curses… until she wakes up inside an ancient mansion hidden in mist, standing at the altar beside a man who refuses to look at her as if she truly exists. That night, the house begins to whisper her name. Mirrors show a bride who is not her. And fragments of memories begin to surface—memories that should not belong to her. But the mansion hides more than a curse. Lazriel appears—a mysterious man who knows too much about the Ardhana bloodline and the buried Blackwell curse beneath it. He feels like a stranger, yet something inside Alika reacts as if he has always been part of her fate. And then there is Ethan. The man who protects her when the mansion turns hostile. The man who looks at her like he has lost her once before… and refuses to lose her again. Alika is trapped between three truths: a cursed husband, a man who knows her forgotten past, and a man who feels like a memory she was never meant to forget. But the deeper she searches, the more she realizes the truth—the mansion is not just cursed. It is a system. A cycle of death, memory, and reset. And Alika is not just another bride. She is the key. Because the Blackwell curse does not kill randomly. It resets everything. And this time… something inside the system is starting to remember her.

I've been in a three-year relationship with Antonio Bianco, the successor of the Bianco family. Everyone knows very well how much he loves me. But everything has changed the moment Antonio's older brother passes away, leaving behind his newly-widowed wife, Rosetta Serra, who's also pregnant. Antonio heeds Augusto Bianco's last wish by taking great care of Rosetta. He even ditches me at the altar numerous times for her sake. On our 51st wedding, Antonio still ends up leaving with Rosetta, who keeps crying her heart out. I just gaze at the way Antonio scrambles to come up with a new excuse. I notice how skillfully the wedding planning company is cleaning up the wedding venue in advance. I also spot the flash of a provocative smile Rosetta has shown to me behind Antonio's back as she links arms with him. Suddenly, I feel like a total joke for being with such a man over the past three years. When the hotel manager gives me the bill, he asks casually, "When will the 52nd wedding be held, Ms. Marino? We can make the preparations in advance." "There's no need for a wedding anymore," I respond with a smile. "Even if a wedding is to be held, the groom won't be the same person anyway." After leaving the hotel, I dial the number of the person in charge of the International Medical Organization. "Hello, I'm Cecilia Marino. I'd like to accept your invitation to join your organization, and I can leave anytime soon."

After working abroad for several years, I returned home, only to have my parents arrange a blind date for me. He was tall and strikingly handsome, honest in character, steady in demeanor, and came from an excellent family background. In short, the perfect candidate for a husband. I told myself that sooner or later, marriage was inevitable, so I settled on him. The day before the wedding, I went to the church—only to be stunned by the sight before me. The entire place had been transformed into something sinister and grotesque. The walls were plastered with terrifying photos of corpses, the floor littered with wax figures of severed arms and legs, and even the flowers had been dyed black, dripping with blood-red stains. But the most infuriating part was the image hanging right at the center of the church—an AI-generated picture of me, pinned beneath my fiancé, as he whipped me. My whole body trembled with fury. I stormed at the staff still working on the decorations, ordering them to stop immediately. Just then, his best friend, Nina Cullen, walked in. "Don't stop. Yves prefers this wedding style." I froze, staring at her in disbelief. "How is that possible? Who in their right mind would decorate something as joyous as a wedding with gore? This is insane!" Nina only gave a cold, arrogant laugh. "That's the theme. If you want to marry him, you'll have to accept it." Speechless, I immediately called Yves. "Yves, I'm not interested in getting married in a haunted house. You'd better restore the church to normal; otherwise, this wedding is off."

“Stop the wedding,” Revan’s voice boomed across the garden. It was loud and clear that it made everyone freeze. Citrine smiled and slowly let go of Gael’s arm, perplexing every guest. “Citrine, babe, w-what are you doing?” he stuttered. He was about to grab her hand when the sex video of him and Citrine’s half-sister began to play. Embarrassed by his cheating ass, he quickly left the venue along with Trisha. “Now, sorry about that father; can we continue the ceremony?” Citrine asks politely as if nothing has happened. “But the groo—” “I am here,” Revan said as he approached Citrine. *** Citrine Lustrio is the illegitimate daughter of a business tycoon; she grew up being mistreated and neglected by her family, and to make matters worse, she discovered her fiancé cheating on her with her half-sister. Determined to break free from her messed-up life and exact revenge, she struck a deal with Revan, the CEO of Soldevilla Group—the man who had betrayed and broken her heart six years ago.

She runs into a man's private room as she's being chased down by someone, and she becomes his cure. After a night of passion, she stabs the man in the chest without hesitation before fleeing. Unexpectedly, the man becomes addicted to her and chases her all the way to Jipsfort. He pulls all sorts of tricks to lure her into his trap of lust. "What is it about me that attracts you so, Xavier?" Quinn Jowell asks. Xavier Patterson answers, "Your beautiful eyes, dainty nose, slender waist, and the way you look underneath me…" "You just want to get into my pants. Let's break up." He pulls her into his arms and seals her lips with his. "Over my dead body. Don't even dream about breaking up with me in your next lifetime, let alone this one." Everyone says that Xavier, the heir of the Patterson family, isn't interested in women. Quinn, whose legs are trembling, looks at Xavier while he lies in bed, looking sated. She can't help but think everyone is blind. Xavier is nothing but a monster who can never get his fill of her!

In a country where people view being single as a sin. Some would even conclude that you have been married to the devil by your parents, others would say you have a spirit husband a d that was the reason no one was coming for you. To worsen it, you chose a profession that perpetually puts you on the limelight, people call for you, they have seen your work and they want to have you as their photographer. Such was the case for Rebecca, she was young beautiful but she feels so alone since all her mates were married, she was still single and to worsen it no one was seeing her, it felt more like she was invisible, people would always tell her she was beautiful but they never went further even when she would be the one to quickly show her interest. She wanted so much to be loved and feel loved, she wanted to know what it felt like to be inlove. She looked pretty young but she wasn't really that young which was why her mother would want her to go to church with her every now and then, she wished she was not in the same state with her mother because even if she runs away from her mother, she always finds a way to get her back. But the story changed for Rebel when she was contracted to handle Charles' wedding, her job was going just as perfect, she was doing exactly what she used to do, she was giving her best to the work. She showed them a sample of how the work would look like, but she couldn't concentrate, whenever Charles was close to her, even if he was with Sandra, she just couldn't concentrate, she was inlove with her client.