Romans & histoires The Dead Bride

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.

No fireworks. Just finality. The crowd erupts in applause. I smile for the cameras, for the legacy, for the lies. But inside? I’m already tearing it all down. I am now Mrs. Vitali. And part one of my father’s plan is complete. But this isn’t the end. It’s the beginning. And someone in this story just tried to kill the wrong bride.

The air smelled faintly of incense, and the distant echo of trumpets signaled the approach of a new peace—one that would come at a steep price. She glanced at the forged credentials in her hands, which proclaimed her as the Eastern Dominion’s "peace bride," a symbol of a ten-year ceasefire between empires. But inside her, the truth burned cold: she wasn’t the real bride. That girl had died weeks ago, leaving Eva to step into her place. The capital’s grandeur loomed around her—gleaming towers casting long shadows, and the quiet whispers of nobility wrapped in wealth and deceit. A thousand eyes followed her as she walked the bridge, the cheers of the people masked behind veils of pity and curi

But everyone had weaknesses and I just had to find his before those four days ran out. On the second day Miranda came to me with information she had discovered while going through older files that Tobin had kept locked away. "Marco had a wife who died five years ago," Miranda explained while showing me photos of a young woman with dark hair and a soft smile. "Her name was Isabella and by all accounts he was completely devoted to her and he never remarried after she died." I studied the photos and noticed that Isabella had a similar build to me and similar coloring and I wondered if that was significant or just a coincidence. "What else do we know about her?"

Dominic insisted stubbornly. "I married a terrible liar." She replied with a soft laugh, shaking her head. "You married a creative storyteller." He answered with a grin. "That's another way of saying it." They fell quiet as they simply watched Nicholas sleep, his little chest rising and falling rhythmically. Completely unaware that beneath the Valtieri Estate rested an inheritance that powerful men were willing to kill for. Completely unaware that his innocent drawings had changed everything. Dominic quietly reached for Althea's hand as he sat beside her and their fingers intertwined automatically.

she asked Mu Zi with a trembling voice, "what ...... to do The bride, seems to be dead... ..." "Dead? Are you ever wrong!" Mu Zi was shocked and even doubted that this was a prank! At the wedding banquet, the bride died? "I ...... I don't know, there's so much blood ......" MuLing was incoherent, the whole person was in a panic, "What to do ......" "Where is she?" Mu Zi grasped MuLing's hand hard, trying to make her more awake, "Take me there!" Fingers plunged into the flesh, the stinging sensation brought MuLing back to her senses, she looked at Mu Zi in front of her and breathed deeply, "In the wedding room ......"

He asked. I clenched my jaw. “It does to me.” He glanced at me through the rearview mirror, his icy blue eyes boring into mine. “Let’s just say, my bride died this morning, and nobody knows. Now, you will take her place.” Those words hit me like a slap in the face. His bride died… this morning? Like on their wedding day? My heart sank. I was replacing his dead bride. “That’s it?” I asked, my voice raising. “Your bride died this morning, so you decided to pick the first woman you found in the forest?”

The other maid burst into laughter, "Sorry, but I found that question funny; treat her nice? they've never; sometimes, she doesn't eat anything during Christmas; all she does is do dishes and wash clothes. They've never given her gifts or bought her clothes, beat her mercilessly at any opportunity they get for any mistake, while their bratty daughter enjoys all the luxury, she, on the other hand, enjoys all the suffering, I think what you've just witnessed is a perfect example of how badly she is treated, I mean, who slapped a bride two days to her wedding" " A bride?! Wedding?!", She exclaimed, she was so surprised cause there wasn't any sign that a wedding was on the way, " Yes, a wedding,

Now, I was pretending to be someone else’s bride. Then there were the rumors. Alpha Draven’s brides always died. Not just one or two—a pattern. His first fiancée had been kidnapped, and while that story had circulated in my family, the others were different. Each bride-to-be after her had mysteriously died before the wedding ceremony could take place.

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.