Novelas y relatos de The Bride

she whispered. Richard folded his hands behind his back. "The guests don't know the bride personally. Most of them are business associates. The ceremony hasn't started, and the press hasn't seen her yet." He turned to Adrian. "The merger survives." Eva stared at him in disbelief. "You can't replace a bride like she's a missing decoration." "No," Richard replied calmly. "But we can replace a woman who has already chosen to leave." "I said no." Richard raised an eyebrow. "I wasn't asking you."

My young mistress's betrothed was dying, and she ordered me to marry him in her place to turn his luck. People believed the joy of a wedding could drive out sickness and misfortune, and that a dying man might be pulled back from the grave by it. "The royal physicians all say Lord Blackwell won't live past seven days! Why should I marry him only to be buried at his side? "He's never even seen me. You can marry him instead. "You're nothing but a lowborn maid. Being allowed to marry the regent is the luck of a lifetime." Before I could react, the glowing words appeared before my eyes again. [Celeste is such an idiot. What does she mean, he won't live past seven days? Lord Blackwell has the

"Where's Vivienne, Lu?" Margot was at the window of the bridal suite. She hadn't looked at me in twenty minutes. The seamstress had finished pinning the side seam of my gown. The other bridesmaids were laughing in the next room about a wedding in Bali that had been ruined by a monsoon. "Fixing the table linens." "There's nothing wrong with the table linens. I called the planner an hour ago."

“Miss Christine sure is delusional. Mr. Vincent is the Godfather of the Medici family. He’s worth billions. In New York, anyone with status treats him with the utmost respect.” “Isn’t he getting married to his fiancée in five days? And she’s saying he’s the love of her life? Does he even know who she is? Every Cinderella dreams of marrying into wealth, but not just anyone off the streets can be the Godfather’s woman.” I walked out of the hospital and, in a daze, got onto the subway. At that moment, my phone vibrated. When I checked it, I saw that Elena had sent several photos in a row. They were wedding photos of her and Vincent, taken in Central Park. The wedding dress she wore was the same

Smiled. “Instead,” he said, stepping back, “I’ve asked someone else to be my bride.” My knees nearly gave way but I stood still, every cell in my body screaming. Out of the crowd, she stepped forward. Clarissa. My sister. Wearing my dress. "Liam," I breathed. "What are you doing?" He didn’t answer me. He extended his hand, to her. “Clarissa, love, come here.” And just like a rehearsed pageantry, she strode down the red carpet, a smile carved on her lips as she walked towards him, confident, calm and cruel.

They take their places on the right, while the groom steps up to the monk’s stand. I can see the blond is nervous, though he hides his emotions quite well from everyone else. And then the music changes, and we see the bride. Vasmiya is radiant and stunning. She wears a long dress of soft milky color with a fitted, embroidered corset. The brunette’s hair is arranged in intricate braids adorned with snow-white flowers. She glows with happiness and excitement. The moment she sees her husband, a sincere smile lights up the bride’s beautiful face. It wasn’t for nothing that I married them. Looking at them now, I understand that my de

She was wearing a sleeveless hoodie and black cargo pants. She turned slowly when she heard me approaching. Her grey eyes were piercing and sharp. "Well, well," she drawled lazily. "The bride's up." I blinked. "And you are?" She popped her gum. "Rayne. With a 'y', not an 'i'. Try to remember that if I ever have to kill someone for you." I squinted. "Comforting." She grinned, her tongue poking her cheek. "You're smaller than I expected. But the attitude makes sense."

More meaningful and heartfelt. Death cannot break their vows, and beings that have sworn their loyalty will always find each other, even in the afterlife. Bree patted the front of her dress before signaling Bran to start the walk down the aisle. Her wedding gown was an ivory-colored ballgown with a sweetheart neckline overlaid with lace that formed the cap sleeves and frothy tulle for the skirt. “I do not have any grand speech prepared, but as I hand my sister’s heart and soul over to your care, I expect she will be cared for and never left wanting in this life,” Brandon said with a serious face that was meant to intimidate his brother-in-law.

Immi is my world, she rocks it. As she gets closer, she gives me a wink, I wink back, she blushes even more I can see a faint patch of redness on her chest. It’s damn difficult to tear my eyes away from her. Immi moves to the left hand side of the altar and smiles demurely. The other bridesmaids join her followed by a beautiful bride dressed in cream lace with a veil that trails behind her. She has her niece and nephew who look to be only five and six throwing out petals from their tiny baskets. It’s adorable.

I want to cherish her. However, I did not want to take any advantage of her until she was at the right age. When I saw her for the second time in church on our wedding day, my breath got hitched looking at her smooth skin and flawless beauty. She was the epitome of God’s angel. But again, she was an innocent kid. When the priest asked me to kiss my bride, I could see the nervousness on her face and her body. So, I controlled my desire and avoided kissing her, but that made me irritated and annoyed. I wanted to touch her. I wanted to kiss those panels once.