Soma And Erina Wedding

The scoundrel cheated on his sister, and she caught him in the marital bed. In a fit of rage, she put on her wedding dress and climbed into the bed of the scoundrel's younger uncle, and thus transformed herself into his little aunt.

After failing to win the hearts of the first three targets, I decide to get engaged to Natalia Stone, the paralyzed heiress of the Stone family. Soon, I use all of my points just to swap for Natalia's ability to stand up once again. But the first thing Natalie does after recovering from her paralysis is to cancel the engagement with me. After that, she gives Irving Schmidt the grandest and most eye-catching wedding that will take place on the cruise. At the wedding venue, all four of my targets stare at Irving with love and adoration in their eyes. Suddenly, I feel like going home, so I jump into the sea without hesitation. But when my body plunges into the sea, four silhouettes can be seen rushing toward me. Regret and fear are written on their faces.

Just before a day of her wedding, Lily Meyers’ dream gets shattered to find her fiance sleeping with her sister. The little girl whom she spolit all the time and the man who promised to love her the rest of the life betrayed her. Enraged, Lily exposes their cheating to the whole world, only to get slapped by her father, as if she was the one to be blamed. “You disgraced the family!” The wedding went on, but with her sister as the bride.Heart broken and abandoned, Lily gets drunk and wakes up naked in the arms of Niklaus Cooper, the richest man in the state. Will the billionaire save her from all her miseries? Or will she just got another setback for her miseary life after her father finds out...

After my grandmother passed away, I returned from my countryside home to Oberis City, ready to tidy things up and prepare for my wedding. But no sooner had I arrived at the wedding planning company, ready to book an extravagant, luxurious wedding, than the staff there delivered a piece of news that struck me like a thunderbolt. The groom—my groom—had already gotten married. Three months ago, Cain Bassett, the eldest son of the wealthiest family's conglomerate, tied the knot with his childhood sweetheart, the daughter of the mayor of Lith City—Mary Schindler. Now here I stood, frowning in front of the grand gates of Cain's villa. But the thing is, I am Mary Schindler, the daughter of the mayor of Lith City.

Three years of marriage. Three years of hell, humiliation, and being compared to a ghost. To Alexander Hale, the ruthless CEO feared by all Abigail was never a wife, only a woman that desperately wanted her best friends lover. He didn’t know that Abigail was the real pen pal who healed him with her letters... the same woman whose heart he crushed beneath his arrogance. Until the night she vanished. Declared dead after a brutal car accident, Abigail left behind only her wedding ring and a diary that shattered every illusion Alexander ever had. But fate is far from finished. Months later, Alexander attends his cousin’s wedding, only to see his dead ex-wife again. Alive. Pregnant. And standing beside another man.

There's about half a month to our wedding when Daniel Bradshaw and I get into a horrible fight. The reason? He wants to have a child with his mentor's daughter. "We're only going to do IVF—it's not like we're doing anything else! My mentor is gravely ill now, and his only wish is to see Phoebe have someone she can rely on!" Daniel sounds indifferent, but my blood runs cold. "It's half a month to our wedding, yet you're going to have a child with another woman. Don't you find that ridiculous?" I watch as he storms off and slams the door shut behind him. Then, I update my social media. "I'm getting married in half a month, but I need a new groom. Is anyone up for it?"

The air in the Parisian haute couture salon smelled like money and fear. I’d waited six months for my wedding dress. Now, it was draped over the shoulders of Sofia Ross—the trending influencer, and my mafia fiancé Vincent Cassio’s god-sister. The salon manager was sweating bullets, his eyes darting between me and the man lounging on the velvet sofa. Vincent Cassio stood up. He adjusted a fold of the diamond-encrusted train on Sofia with a casual flick of his wrist. “Her premiere next week needs a statement piece. She’s borrowing it. Pick something off the rack and stop making a scene.” His tone was flat, final. Under the crystal chandeliers, Sofia admired herself in the full-length mirror, a triumphant smile on her lips. I looked at my reflection in the same mirror, wearing jeans and a soaked trench coat. I looked like a lost tourist. Suddenly, the entire past year of planning felt like a sick joke. I didn’t yell. I just felt cold. Numb. I slipped the five-carat engagement ring off my finger. It hit the glass coffee table with a sharp, final click. “You’re right, Vincent. I don’t need this wedding dress. This wedding… I don’t need it either.”

I loved my stepbrother, Simon Rossi, the Don, for ten years. When he got poisoned one day, I offered myself to him and ended up pregnant. He smoked half a packet of cigarettes before saying, “I’ll take responsibility for this.” However, his first love, Camillia, claimed that she had an asthma attack on our wedding day. I begged Simon to wait until our ceremony was over before going to her. Unfortunately, Camillia escaped the hospital and died on her way to find him. Prior to her death, she called Simon 99 times. But he did not answer even once because of our wedding ceremony. When I found out, I felt terrible. Yet, Simon was exceptionally calm. After our wedding, my health deteriorated exponentially, and I bled heavily during childbirth. Just as I was about to die, I heard the doctor sigh softly. “Mr. Rossi, you’re ruthless. The poison you gave your wife has seeped into her bones. The baby can’t be saved either.” “Camillia suffered the same pain before her death.” When I opened my eyes again, I had gone back to the night before everything happened.

No one knows that Ingrid Steele, the CEO who's currently talking about how her company bans office romances on the podium, has begged me to do it with her eight times in a row last night. Her secretary leans in and murmurs into my ear, "I heard that our cold and aloof CEO has plans to reveal her husband's identity recently. Rumors say that she even plans on throwing him an extremely grand wedding just to make it up to him." Warmth floods my heart at that moment. It's then I decide to make the great news of me winning a billion dollars in the lottery a wedding gift for Ingrid. Our daughter, Gaby Newman, no longer has to hide anymore in life. The three of us can publicly spend time together as a family now! The next day, I put on the suit that Ingrid has given me eight years ago. Then, I enter the wedding venue. As soon as I open the door, I see Ingrid leading her first love, Hank Conley, up the stage. After they exchange rings with each other, they share a sweet kiss in front of everyone in a tight embrace. In the end, Ingrid tosses her wedding bouquet at the guests. Coincidentally, it lands right in my hands. Someone next to me gives me a light shove. "What are you waiting for? Give them your blessings already!" I just clap for the newlyweds while walking toward them. "Congratulations, you two! I hope that you can live happily ever after and that you'll have a bundle of joy soon! No, make it 108 babies, how about that?" As soon as my words fall, I turn on my heel and stride away. As expected, Ingrid doesn't chase after me. She doesn't even bother calling me nor explaining everything to me.

On the day that was supposed to be my wedding—the bride wasn’t me. The ceremony I’d waited for five years for turned into a joke when Valentina, my sister, walked down the marble aisle in a white wedding dress. Her arm was linked with Luca’s — the man who was supposed to be waiting for me at the altar. “I’m sorry, Bianca,” she said softly. “But you are no longer the bride today.” Then she touched her stomach, eyes gleaming with triumph. “I’m pregnant with Don Romano’s child.” Her words detonated inside my skull, and the whole world went silent. As if afraid I wouldn’t believe her, she lifted something glossy up towards the light. A black-and-white ultrasound image. It read clearly: Gestational age — 12 weeks. My eyes burned, tears stinging as I turned to Luca, desperately searching for anything—a denial, an explanation, regret. Instead, he only sighed, weary and resigned. “Bianca, I’m sorry.” he said helplessly. “Valentina doesn’t have much time left. This wedding… it was her last wish.” “I’ll make it up to you,” he added. “We can have another wedding later.” My father, Moretti, stood behind him, wearing the same stern expression he’d worn my entire life. I have never seen him smile at me, not even once. “Bianca,” he said sharply, “Your sister is dying. Let her have this.” My brother nodded without saying a single word, as if that was enough to be a solid answer. All my life, they had chosen her—her tears, her whims, her needs—over mine. Today was no different. Something inside me quietly cracked. Fine. If no one in this family cares about me, I’ll leave.