Runaway Groomsman นิยาย & เรื่องราว

I ignored my father, took off my diamond engagement ring and tossed it at Owen. "I'm sure she'll be needing that too." With that I walked out of the house, my voice almost broke before them, the tears already stung the back of my eyes, one had accidentally slipped. I couldn't go back home, Owen and I lived together like a couple, everything in the house was only going to remind me of everything I wanted to forget but moving on wasn't as easy as walking out on all of them was. I phoned my event planner and she confirmed she was aware of the change in bride, the venue managers knew as well, the graphics designer had changed the names on the cards I sent out—I wasn't diligent enough to check th

Especially him. Damian Blackwood. The man I am supposed to marry. A billionaire whose name made tycoons tremble. Cold, ruthless, untouchable. I had seen the way he looked at me during our brief engagement meetings—like I was just another piece of asset, another acquisition. And I refuse to be bought. The curtains lifted. Applause rolled through the crowd. One by one, we glided onto the stage, gowns shimmering under the lights. Each of us masked, each mysterious, each promised to the highest bidder for the sake of “charity.” My turn came all too soon. My heels clicking like gunshots against the polished floor.

Without hesitation, they handed me the money, saying, "As long as you're happy, we'll do whatever we can to support you." I knew that was the savings they had scraped together over a lifetime of living frugally. The line went quiet for a few seconds. I didn't know how to begin. Was I supposed to tell them that I couldn't even reach Olivia and that I had just seen a photo of her with another man on the day before our wedding? I couldn't bring myself to say it. So, I claimed the signal was bad and hung up. … As it turned out, canceling a wedding was far easier than planning one. The wedding I had spent a whole year preparing was called off in just one morning.

For the 18th time, Tyra Stone calls off our wedding because I'm a beat too slow during the vows. She looks at me with utter disappointment. "You know I'm a perfectionist. Why can't you follow the wedding schedule exactly? If you can't keep up next time either, maybe you should just let your best friend marry me instead." My so-called best friend, Jeremiah Young, is known for being obsessively punctual. For some reason, Tyra has made him the standard I'm expected to meet. If I come downstairs a minute later than he does after work, she will drive off with him without looking back. If I arrive at the restaurant half a step after him on Valentine's Day, she will give him the candlelit dinne

I smiled at him, hoping that would be enough to reassure him that I was doing fine. “I’m fine, Marvin. I’ve just been too busy to be in school, considering the wedding is drawing nearer,” his gaze narrowed on mine and for a minute, he glared at his brother before his eyes met mine. “Nonsense, Christina. We both know Scott is capable of handling the entire wedding preparations without your presence. So try something else,” I tried to wave it off while searching for a better excuse but he wouldn’t have it.

A week before we're supposed to register our marriage, my fiancee, Celine Payton, asks me to book eight train tickets to the beach. She says it's our last trip before we get married, and everyone close to us is going. I spend three days scrambling for tickets and finally manage to get eight seats together. After I pay, a group poll pops up in a chat called "No Henry Sharp Travel Group." The question is simple. "Should Henry come with us?" Seven votes are against it while one person abstains. Not a single vote is in my favor. The voters include Celine, my older sister, Celine's childhood best friend, and my younger cousin, whom I had practically raised. I ask Celine if she's the one w

It was breathtaking, its deep red colour was very captivating, its shade like that of blood, and the bodice promised to be luxurious. A note was laying in the box that read: “For the introduction tomorrow. I’m picking you up by 7pm, don’t be late” She was so exhausted, this day did not go as she had planned and she hated when plans didn’t go according to plan. Not only did she fail to kill Luca but she would soon be making an enemy out of Romano Moretti, her dealer.

The next morning at ten o'clock, the tropical sun blazed overhead. The wedding venue was extravagantly luxurious. A towering champagne pyramid reflected dazzling light everywhere. Guests filled the venue. Business elites toasted one another as conversations buzzed through the crowd. I stood at the end of the aisle in a gray groomsman's suit. Soft laughter drifted through the crowd from time to time. "Look at that. The groom's wearing a groomsman's suit. That's a first."

Wheeling on James, he snapped, "Mind your wife." James shrugged as if it was none of his business. "I don't get to boss her around." Stan rolled his eyes. "You're all just bullying me." Tommy suddenly said, "Uncle Stan, I'm your friend. You're not alone." Stan could cry right then and carried Tommy over to his side. "Let's sit together." The emcee spoke energetically and clearly just then, "On this blessed day, we thank everyone for coming to witness the wedding of Mr. Slate and Ms. Adams."

Clarissa watched the way people leaned in when he talked and sat back when he finished. Halfway through the first course a man two seats down from Raymond cleared his throat. “I have to say, Charles, the timing of everything has been… interesting. The wedding. The announcements. All of it so sudden.” The table quieted by degrees. Charles set down his fork. “Sudden is a matter of perspective.” “Of course.” The man smiled carefully. “I only mean that people talk. Especially in our circles.” “People always talk,” Charles said. “It rarely changes anything that matters.”