Say I Do Book Novels & Stories

She is a Lady, but she spews profanities like they were made for her. She is what you would call....A F*cking Lady. ....••••••.... Zylith Sanders was a mundane teenager until one-day she was sucked into a wash basin and somehow ridiculously ended up in a feudal world without her beloved games and movies. To make matters worse, she was sold off by slave traders to the horrid Noble house of Ronales as a petty maid. But that was not the end of her worries, Dear Zylith, the feminist had a long struggle ahead of her when she meets the mighty King of this feudal kingdom and becomes his pretend consort. With a king that likes to poke deadly humor at her, and a bamby girl who wanted nothing to do with the ancients. How will the poor teenage feminist cope with only her sarcastic mouth to rely on! Just dive in and read on to find out Zylith Sander's romantic plight.

For Renata, the world of the rich is a place where she will never belong, as everyone, without exception, as self-centered, mean, rude, overbearing, cheating and wicked. When she leaves the country, she starts working for one of the biggest companies in the world, and although she hates herself for feeling this, she can't keep the bold Italian out of her thoughts, she can't control her heartbeat let alone the butterflies in her stomach every time he's around. She tries not to want him for 3 reasons: 1 - He is rich. 2 - He is her boss, and 3 - She finds the behavior of this Italian tycoon very suspicious. The more she tries to stay away, the more he insists on getting closer. Between them, which will speak louder: love or reason?

At our seventh wedding anniversary party, Caleb Thorne shares a drink with his childhood sweetheart. My face darkens, and he publicly snaps at me in front of everyone. "It's just playful fun between friends—why are you so uptight? If I really had something going on with Emma, do you think you'd ever have become my wife?" He storms off in anger. That same night, his childhood sweetheart updates her social media banner to a photo of her holding hands with Caleb. In the past, I would've rushed to her house without a second thought, dragged Caleb out, and demanded to know if he ever truly loved me. But this time, I don't care anymore.

Eight years ago, a night of drunken recklessness left me carrying Grayson Ulrich's child. But from that moment on, he began to hate both me and our daughter. He never allowed her to call him "Dad." He wouldn't let me step into his study, either. Because inside that study, every inch of space was filled with traces of another woman—Sandra Wright, the ex-fiancée who had once left him for freedom and happiness, who had gone abroad to marry a rich man. She was the one Grayson could never forget. The one he still loved. On our eighth anniversary, Sandra returned. That night, Grayson got drunk for the first time in years. He held our daughter in his arms and wept until his eyes were red. My daughter looked at me, bewildered. "Mom, why is Uncle crying?" I held back my tears and told her softly, "Because he is very happy. The person he loves has finally come back." Then I said, "So, Mommy's taking you away—so we won't disturb him and the woman he loves, okay?"

Clive Hawkins, who had been giving me the cold shoulder, posted on X. [First 100 likes get a breakup cash giveaway.] In no time, it had 99 likes and reposts. I knew he was waiting for me to give in, just like how I begged him to delete it during the ten times we fought before. But this time, I reposted it myself and wrote, [Count me in.] Then, I blocked him on every platform. Three days later, his sister messaged me. [Clive saved you a front row seat. Stop hiding and come back. As long as you show up, he's willing to forgive you.] I glanced at the plane ticket on my desk and replied. [I'm busy.] I really was busy. I’d been admitted to graduate school at Redstone University, and my flight was leaving that night for orientation. From then on, we would be separated by thousands of miles, never to see each other again.

All is not as it seems in this action suspense. What happens when an 'innocent blind girl' marries an assassin? For the sake of friendship, Joshua agrees to marry best friend Raymond's blind girlfriend Julia without her knowledge, just so he can buy him time to get out of his arranged marriage. But stakes run high when Joshua finds himself falling for her as well which will ultimately open a large can of worms.One of the many questions is who will get the girl? What happens when this untimely love triangle unearths secrets that will spill blood and unfortunately reveal some unforeseen tragic relations? Above all, what happens when Joshua notices more than what meets the eye when it comes to his new bride? So who is playing who and why? Find out, in A BLOOD-STAINED 'I DO'

RACHEL:I was supposed to be a bride. Instead, I became a tragedy in a white dress. When your mother dies the same night your groom disappears, you stop believing in happy endings. Then came him. A man with no warmth, no promises and eyes that watched me like I was a puzzle he didn’t want to solve. He saved me once. Now I live under his roof, cooking meals for a stranger whose silence speaks louder than comfort. Then there is Chris, the charming CEO who drowns me in the kind of affection I always dreamt of. And there is Liam, my ex fiance who came crawling back, begging for another chance. But the heart is a stupid thing. Even when it’s broken, it still learns to give second chances. Even for the wrong man. DAMIAN: She was a disaster I didn’t ask for. One I couldn’t ignore. I don’t do emotions, and I sure as hell don’t do strays. But I let her in, just for a while. Rachel Hart is not my responsibility. But she keeps showing up in places I can’t ignore, my company, my home, my thoughts. Now her presence lingers. Her scent. Her voice. Her past. She doesn’t belong in my world. But I find myself rearranging it anyway. And when someone else tries to claim her, They’ll learn the hard way I don’t let go of what’s mine.

I'm about to marry Andre Lawson, a Waller Street tycoon, while my boyfriend of ten years, a blue-blooded attorney, still has no idea. His first love returns from Galoria, and now his phone floods with intimate photos of the two of them reliving their Lierre League alma mater days. On Valentine's Day, he reserves a private room at one of Zradstin's top Talision restaurants and orders a mango-nut cake, completely forgetting I'm allergic to both. We end up in a full-on whipped cream fight before he recalls my allergy. When the doctor arrives, I'm the one signing the emergency paperwork alone. That's also the moment I agree to the marriage my family arranges.

Denver Cavalier's marriage to India Jones wasn't a mistake or forced; it was just unintentional. The handsome Denver, who revels in his wealth and singleness, never imagined he would be asked to be a substitute groom. Whoever heard of such a thing? He hadn't until he found himself standing at the altar with India. India was supposed to marry Marcus Monroe, who was Denver's best friend and business partner. She was supposed to be his perfect match, so everyone thought. Until India surprisingly turned to the best man and asked him, "Will you marry me?" But that wasn't the end of the surprises. Another woman showed up at the wedding, setting off a chain of events they couldn't have predicted. Secrets were revealed that threaten to destroy everything. In a whirlwind of vows and vengeance, India and Denver are bound together by circumstance, not by choice. What follows is a journey through chaos, chemistry, and the tangled web of friendship and revenge. As the dust settles and secrets unravel, India and Denver must decide whether a marriage born of spite and lies can blossom into love and something real—or if it will ultimately fail.

I was three months pregnant when the car crash happened. In those final moments of fading consciousness, I frantically dialed Damian’s private, encrypted line—the one meant only for emergencies. He never picked up. By the time I was rushed into surgery, I received a crushing blow: Damian had forcibly reassigned my lead private physician to the South District. He needed the best doctor to treat his childhood sweetheart, Evelyn, who had just been widowed. When I finally drifted awake through a haze of agony, my trembling fingers swiped open Instagram. I saw Evelyn’s latest post: “I knew that no matter the distance or the time, Damian would move heaven and earth to reach me. He even brought his Chief Physician just to help me heal from my grief.” In the accompanying photo, Damian—a man known for his cold, lethal eyes—was gazing at the woman beside him with a tenderness I hadn't seen in years. While I was clawing my way back from the brink of death, fighting to save our child, my husband was playing protector to another pregnant woman. A hollow, self-deprecating laugh escaped my lips. Without a second thought, I slid the wedding band off my ring finger. I opened my inbox and hit "Confirm" on the invitation from the world’s most elite International Finance Institute. If Evelyn is all he cares about, I’ll give them my blessing. In seven days, I will vanish from his world forever—and I’m taking my baby with me.