Runaway Bride Novels & Stories

There were no specific criteria because Emily knew she was far from perfect. Her naive hope was shattered today. When she accidentally helped her employer's bride run away on her wedding day. Throughout her makeup session, Emily couldn't stop crying, although she tried to hold back her tears as best as she could. In her heart, she tried to convince herself that this was all just a dream. After all, wasn't it absurd? How could Emily, a nobody, suddenly have to marry Vean, a top actor and the son of the Frans family she worked for? Even if she was just a replacement bride.

It was just another prop in their carefully staged play. This world really felt like one big cheesy CEO romance novel. Honestly, it was so ridiculous I almost wanted to laugh. Or curse. … That night, my house stayed brightly lit. While other brides might have been dreaming of their big day, I was busy packing my bags. I didn't stop for a moment—not even to rest. Two hours ago, I booked a first-class ticket abroad. If they wanted drama, I would give them drama. If Wendy could show up unexpectedly to disrupt the wedding, then I could just as easily disappear on a 'runaway bride' trip of my own.

he drawled, “the runaway bride returns. Come to finish what your husband failed to start?” Claire leveled her gun. “Put your hands where I can see them.” He didn’t. “Do you even know how deep the game goes, Claire? Adrian thinks I’m the monster. But he’s been playing on the same board.” “You drugged women. Killed for profit. Sold lives.” Gavin shrugged. “And? So did Adrian. Maybe not directly. But every empire is built on bones. You just like his better.” Claire fired. The bullet grazed his shoulder, sending him stumbling back.

It was a blog page, and at the very top, in bold letters, the title of the page left her stiff. “Runaway Bride Tells All: Nate Hayes Manipulated Everything.” Isla’s forehead squeezed as she looked up slowly to meet Leila’s expectant, anxious gaze. “Runaway bride?” Isla muttered, her voice caught between disbelief and rising curiosity. “Nate? Manipulation?” What were they saying? None of it made sense yet. Isla reached for the tablet again and began to scroll further down, eyes skimming quickly. As more of the lines unfolded, Isla's breath started to grow shallow.

Before I can react, before I can demand what she means, her body melts into smoke, dissolving into the shadows, leaving nothing but the echo of her words. I collapse to my knees, clutching the blank note still tight in my hand. The scent lingers. The word bride echoes in my mind, pounding in rhythm with my frantic heartbeat. I wasn't married to anyone! I was betrothed to Alpha Aldric! How am I a runaway bride?

I ran until the lights of the cathedral disappeared and the city swallowed me whole. I don’t know how long I ran (ten minutes? Twenty?). My legs gave out in front of a tiny 24-hour coffee shop glowing like a lighthouse in hell. I shoved the door open, soaked, shaking, mascara streaking down my face like war paint. The barista (a nineteen, purple hair, nose ring) took one look at me and dropped the milk pitcher. “Holy shit. You’re… you’re the runaway bride. It’s trending everywhere.” I laughed. It came out broken. “Yeah. Can I just… sit?”

Leaving aside whether this so-called terminal illness was even real, over the past few days, the Rosses and the Costellos had joined forces to hire the world’s top medical team and develop the most expensive treatments for Alyssa. Even if it were truly terminal, it should have been cured by now. This was nothing more than an excuse to forgive Alyssa for running away from the wedding all those years ago with a clear conscience. Seeing my silence, their anger only intensified. Elio issued a direct order. “Bring her along, too! No matter what it takes, she must convince Alyssa to come back today.” I was roughly thrown into the car before the vehicle sped all the way toward the bridge.

She can't even last an hour without getting irritated just by looking at him. "Are you ready to marry me?" "You think I will be standing next to you if I'm not? Do you even have a brain? You gave me no choice? You locked my mother in a place you call medical facility and who knows where. If I hear something about my mother getting hurt or dying I will burn off everything you own. Media is vast, Damien. I hope you're not dumb" She scoffed. "Careful, little actress. I'm asking nicely." "There's nothing nice about marrying a stranger and a mafioso. So fvck off before I decide to runaway."

“Oh, that’s the best part.” My chest tightened. “They say he gets bored easily,” she continued. “And when he does, he takes it out on his wives.” Wives. Plural. “Broken bones,” she said casually. “Bruises that don’t heal. Locked rooms. Screaming that no one comes to help with.” I felt sick. “One girl ran,” she added. “They found her weeks later. Quiet. Very quiet.” I shook my head. “Stop,” I whispered. She laughed softly. “Why? You should know what you’re marrying into.”

The second way is not good either. Cindy grabbed her by the hair, her brow furrowed, and continued thinking. Her head is down so the teacher can't see. Suddenly, Cindy heard a light chuckle from her friend sitting next to her. She is secretly reading a story. Cindy leaned forward, to see the title. 'How did it make her laugh like that?' The words 'Runaway Bride' caught Cindy's eyes. At first, she was unimpressed but then, she pondered. A bold idea flashed through her mind. This is the only way to get her out of an arranged marriage.