Romans & histoires Promises Bridal

I’m getting married, but my CEO fiancé, whom I had been engaged to for ten years, had no idea. Thanks to his new personal maid, the man has no time to spare for me. The two of them always shadowed one another, and they might as well be sleeping in the same bed. My fiancé even bought a yacht and brought her to the Arctic to see the aurora when she was in a bad mood, completely forgetting that we were supposed to be picking out wedding gowns that day. I spent the entire day waiting in that bridal shop, waiting for a man who would never show up. So I called my dad, “I’m marrying someone else.”

Damian Graves and I had been together for ten years, and he was perfect in every way. He was handsome, successful, and driven, except for one thing. He never missed a chance to cut me down. I placed second in the competition instead of first, and he said I "wasn't smart enough." I finally earned my first paycheck from writing, and he dismissed it as "completely worthless." Later, standing in the bridal shop, Damian looked me up and down in my wedding dress and told me my figure was not good enough, that I did not look anything like a bride should. Something in me snapped. For the first time in ten years, I screamed at him. "If I'm not good enough for you, why are you even marrying me?"

On the eve of my wedding, my wife, Sharon Moonstone, drugged me and knocked me unconscious. She let her first love, Aaron Miller, take my place as the groom, standing beside her as they held the wedding that was supposed to belong to both of us. By the time I finally found them, they had already gone into the bridal suite and consummated their marriage. When I demanded answers, Sharon did not show a trace of guilt. "You live off me. You'd better behave. Make a scene, and we'll divorce." My heart went cold. I handed her the divorce papers, but she barely looked at them. "Looks like you've improved," she said lightly. "At least you know a performance should be convincing from start to finish."

On the day I tried on my wedding dress, a stranger burst into the VIP fitting room and slashed me with a knife. She tore my dress to shreds, her face twisted with rage. "A gold-digger like you doesn't deserve a dress this expensive!" The blade, soaked in sulfuric acid, pierced my abdomen, and I collapsed in agony. She grabbed my hair and slapped me, snarling, "Clarence promised to marry me! You're nothing but a homewrecker!" Blood stained my gown as the truth hit me. My boyfriend of seven years had been cheating on me. "Keep staring, huh? My man runs this city. I could kill you, and no one would touch me!" she taunted, smug as hell. With bloodied hands, I pulled out my phone and dialed my brother. "Chris, come get me from the bridal shop. And tell the Thompsons the engagement is off."

The night before our wedding, my fiancée let her so-called "best friend" butcher the gown my late mother had sewn, chopping it into a revealing mini dress. I rushed over with the ruined dress in my arms, ready to demand answers: only to catch their voices through the door: "Imagine him expecting me to wear something a dead woman stitched. What a curse!" Through the narrow gap, I saw my distant, frigid fiancée flushed with color, straddling his lap. "What we did at the bridal shop wasn't enough," she murmured. "Tomorrow, walking down the aisle in this tiny dress you made me, it'll be even more exhilarating." Their lips met. My hand froze against the door, and inside, something broke with a soundless crack. If she longed for thrills, I would grant her some.

" Where is His Majesty?" I asked sharply, my voice nonchalant, The attendees who were standing in the bridal suite, snickered, " Did you think His Majesty would attend a lowly person like you? You are just another subject for his entertainment. Wait, until you are summoned. His Majesty doesn't like Omegas like you." This wasn't the last thing that I was told before I was abandoned in a very secluded Packhouse with nothing but a guard who barely protected my place. How fun! A new addition to my excellent life. I was born Omega. I mean, I was Born-Omega. I had no idea how this term actually worked. Just because my Wolf was smaller, weaker, they called me that. And in the Pack of Strong Warriors and soldiers, being an Omega meant I was cursed by Moon Goddess, neglected by all. So being a Lycan's Luna meant immediately death for someone like me.

Fedora Smith was done with love. Finished. Buried. Betrayal had ripped out her heart and torched it—her boyfriend of four years and her best friend of twenty-five caught pants down on the very anniversary sheets she gifted him. And their excuses? “You’re not attractive anymore.” “You took too long to marry him.” Fine. If love was a game, she was rewriting the rules. Now, she runs The Bridal Fix, an elite agency providing fake marriages for a steep price—rent-a-bride services for men needing to fool their families, secure an inheritance, or stage the perfect breakup. Fifteen weddings, fifteen divorces—no strings, no mess. Just business. Until Judah Carlstone. He hires her like the rest—one contract, one wedding, one payday. But Judah asks too many questions. Looks at her too long. And when he smirks and says— "Tell me, Fedora… how does it feel to say ‘I do’ and not mean it?" For the first time in years, she has no answer. Because this was never supposed to feel real.

Promises are meant to be broken. That's what Infinity believes. Because ever since no one has kept their promises to her. Until she learned not to hope, because, in the end, it would not come true either. Until one man changes her beliefs, he fulfills everything he says and promises to her. Now she began to hope, to believe, to trust, and to love once again. But fate has another plan for her. The man behind her smile left her hanging. That turned her life into nothingness once again. Because of this, she only writes painful stories. That's why The Journal, the biggest and most well-known online reading application and website in the country, editor-in-chief dubbed her The Tragic Writer. After that, she began to rebuild herself. She’s trying to survive and be alive, even in pain and nothingness. But the past keeps on haunting her. Until someone came who made her feel alive again, he made her believe that she was not alone, that she was worth it and had a place in this world. Is he her saving grace? Or another heartbreak?

From the beginning, it was clear what Avara Latimer's fate would be. Since her birth, every aspect of her life has been planned with precision. Avara's life was one of pure indulgence, with the villagers showering her with the best of everything to ensure the god's favor. However, there was an ulterior motive behind the gifts, and it wasn't given out of kindness. Her island home thrived with life, and to ensure its continuous abundance, she was chosen as a bridal sacrifice for the malevolent dragon god, Kagran, who lived up the mountains. But with rations running low and some of the villagers growing more resentful of her privileges, she knew it was only a matter of time before she would have to leave the village. And just as she had feared, her worst nightmare became a reality. On a cold winter's night they come and take her from her home, leaving her to brave the unforgiving mountains alone - a whole year before the sacrifice was planned.

The wealthy Hanson family makes it clear that whichever sister gives birth to the family's first grandson will inherit the billion-dollar fortune. In my previous life, my sister, under our parents' arrangement, married the strong and healthy third son, Jerome Hanson. I, on the other hand, was given to the gloomy eldest son, Lester Hanson, whose legs were paralyzed. Under my treatment, Lester regained full use of his legs. I became pregnant with the Hanson family's first grandson. Meanwhile, my sister was driven to madness by Jerome's abuse, becoming the laughingstock of every wealthy woman's dinner gossip. On the day I went into labor, my sister stabbed my belly with a knife. Then, she pulled me off a rooftop with her. Now, in this life, we start over. The moment Lester sends over a golden bridal bouquet, my sister snatches it without hesitation. "I want to marry Lester!" she declares.