The Daughter Of The Bride Novels & Stories

Everything had changed. As I wore the wedding gown Luca had picked out for me, my cousin's child came running over with an olive branch. "Aunt Giada, Uncle Luca told me to bring this to you!" I reached out and took it, only to see a note attached. "Giada, I know you're about to become my bride, but it still feels unreal. It's as if this is all a dream—and when I wake, I'll still be the one standing on the university field, secretly watching you walk beside Carlo."

Everyone stood. Bridesmaids walked down the aisle. Emma. Luna's college friends. Her law school study partners. Then Thomas, walking Luna's godmother Victoria down the aisle with a grin. Leo, escorting Catherine's wheelchair with surprising gentleness. The music shifted again. Wedding march. Everyone turned. And there she was. Luna. Our daughter. In her wedding dress. Alexander offered his arm. She took it. "Ready, baby girl?" "Ready, Dada." They started walking. Slowly. Savoring every step.

As he stood at the entrance, waiting for her to appear in her radiant bridal attire, a cascade of emotions painted across his face a mix of joy, nostalgia, and a touch of bittersweet realization. The years seemed to fade away as he embraced her, marveling at the remarkable woman she had become. The air buzzed with happiness, laughter, and the collective heartbeat of a family coming together. Every hug and shared glance conveyed a tale of shared memories and unspoken understanding. The ceremony itself was a harmonious blend of tradition and modernity, reflecting the beautiful bond between father and daughter. As they danced under the twinkling lights, it was not just a celebration of a new ch

he says. “It doesn't matter. You would have come ten years later, and it would still be this way, Dante. My heart, it’s solely yours.” He smiles and leans in again, and our lips press together, moving as one. Once, I was the bride he bought , a woman trapped in a bargain made out of power and pride, just so we could save our parents. Now, I’m the woman he chose. And this time, it isn’t a transaction, neither is it because of anyone else.

I was snapped out of whatever trance I was in. “what?” “Your character, Mary Anderson, who is she?” Mr Julio handed me a cup of cappuccino. “Oh, she's the president's wife” Mr Julio let out a dramatic sigh “my goodness, you're the lead” “Yes sir” I was so proud of myself. “You're always the lead, mi hija, but it's still something that makes me really proud” “Thank you Abuelo” I called him this only when I was really emotional.

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.

We haven't hired nay make up artist because I obviously didn't want one. "Ready, Saph?" Juliette's voice interrupted me. I turned around to look at my youngest bride's maid. Her 3 year old daughter. And she's going to be the flower girl. "Yes." I nodded and we started walking out. Nervousness was slowly creeping into me. My father was walking me down the aisle, and as promised, he stood waiting for me. As soon as I came, he smiled and took my hand in his. I returned his smile and looked ahead. I closed my eyes for a brief seconds and exhaled. I opened them again and tried to smile my nervousness away. I really hope we have a great wedding ahead.

it was a very elegant and sophisticated clothe. Aunty looked at me and said, Am so sorry you weren't able to be the one to choose your dress yourself. I know every girl have their likes and dislikes. But am glad you are going to be our daughter in-law. We promise to get you everything of your choice after this wedding sweetie. I just smiled. Just then the make up artist came and started her job. My mom looked at me adoringly. Aunt Sonia left I and my mom together to go check on Zane and his dad.

The sound of the piano begins to play and slowly people walked on the aisle until she was the last one. She breathes deeply and begins moving her feet. The wedding guests gasped at the beautiful bride. They were expecting for Stephanie to be in a wedding dress, but the news broke out that Arnold has another daughter. No one knew what she looked like and is expecting to see it. Amber never looked up to her groom and obediently listened to the priest's words. "Will you, Amber Miller, take this man, Max Easton, as your husband, to love and cherish until death do us part?"

he ordered. The house buzzed with activity below—laughter, music, the murmur of guests arriving. My heart thudded as I waited, pacing the room back and forth. Finally, stepmother and one of the bridal assistants appeared to escort me downstairs. I stepped onto the grand staircase, the room below coming into view. The decorations were extravagant, every detail meticulously arranged. Guests turned their eyes toward me, and a ripple of whispers spread through the crowd. "She's beautiful." "Is that Evelyn? I didn't expect…"