Perfect Groom Novels & Stories

Damian stood in front of the mirror in the penthouse bedroom, adjusting his tie for the third time as he prepared for their real, intimate wedding ceremony. The small gathering was set for the rooftop garden at sunset—just close friends, family they had chosen, and the twins in their carriers. No press, No contracts, No threats. Just them, promising forever the way they wanted it.

If I had known this in advance, I would have had a bigger wedding, but that's okay, I'll make up for it later. "Groom, you can kiss the bride."

She wore rather thick makeup and a body perfume that smelled of Japanese blossom. The words "beautiful," "hot," and "sexy" perfectly described her appearance that morning. She wore red high heels and walked into the middle of a glamorous white hotel room. Turning around while looking in the mirror, she made sure she was perfect to appear before the groom, who may be getting ready. "I can't wait to see how Oskar reacts when he sees me walking down the aisle. He must look handsome in his tuxedo suit of choice!" Elena stared at her reflection in the mirror, imagining her future husband's face.

She wanted to prod her son, but could not speak out loud with their in-laws nearby, and so became antsy as she watched. Ember's parents were puzzled too. "What is Zachary doing?" Still, the emcee was experienced and something as simple as this was no trouble for him to smooth over. "I'm afraid our bridegroom is feeling shy," he said light-heartedly, "I'm sure he's saving that sweet first kiss for our bride under more romantic circumstances. Now, beloved guests, please raise your glasses to a toast in honor to these newlyweds, and wish them that their blissful union shall last eternally!"

His expression changed instantly. “What is that?” I swallowed nervously. “The marriage contract.” Jason stepped forward immediately and snatched the papers from my hands. His eyes scanned the pages quickly. Then froze. genuine shock appeared on his face. Jason Lu. The groom’s signature. His signature. The atmosphere turned suffocating. “This…” he muttered slowly. “What kind of sick joke is this?” “No joke, Young Master,” one elderly executive answered carefully. “Chairman Lu legally arranged this marriage before his death.”

And Aunt Patricia has disappeared into the crowd like cockroaches when lights turn on. "That," I whisper against Aurelius's chest, "is going to be on every gossip blog by morning." "Good." His lips find my temple. "Let them talk. I'm tired of people acting like pregnancy is something you should hide. Like creating life is less impressive than quarterly earnings." Isabella kicks hard enough that he feels it through my dress. His smile is pure joy. "She agrees with me." The ceremony is perfect. Charlotte walks down the aisle to a string quartet playing Pachelbel's Canon in D—classic, elegant, exactly what she wanted. Her groom cries when he sees her. The vows are personal without being perform

When she came back, she was carrying freshly baked bread and orange juice. "Eat while it's fresh." I sat down beside her, eating while watching her. Maybe I stared too long, because she turned the laptop screen toward me. "Does this invitation style work?" Only then did I see what she had been working on. She had made a PowerPoint outlining the wedding process. It was serious to the point of stiffness. She was using the most basic template. I nearly sprayed orange juice out of my mouth, laughing so hard I leaned forward and back. How could someone be this rigid?

She walked away, heels clicking softly against the stairs. Damian loosened his tie and dropped onto the couch. “So,” he said, exhaling. “It’s officially an all-white wedding. We need to go to Dave’s Wear for our suits.” Max’s eyes lit up. “Ohhh, Dave’s Wear? That guy is good. I follow him on I*******m.” Damian nodded. “He better be. I’m not showing up looking average.” Max smirked. “Relax, groom-to-be. The internet already thinks you’re perfect.”

I say. "I promise you I will not let anyone upset you on our wedding day. Although we are already married, I want you to have that memory of the most beautiful wedding. You have to know that I love you. And you will have to know that this time you're getting married to a man who will appreciate you and love you for the rest of your life," Damon says. We walk into the most impressive boutique I have ever seen. They have only wedding gowns. "Good day. Can we help you? Oh, Mr Winters. What brings you here?" One of the clerks asks.

The attached photo showed two hands—one male, one female—both wearing a pair of wedding rings. That was our wedding rings. Though their faces weren't shown, I recognized Julian instantly. The comments were overflowing with praise, congratulating them as if they were a perfect match. "The ring is gorgeous! It's so elegant and sophisticated! Only such a beautiful piece could match Vivi's breathtaking looks!" "If I'm not mistaken, this is a wedding ring, right? It looks expensive. Vivi is so lucky to have such a wonderful husband." I thought for a moment, then decided to drop my own comment—with receipts.