The Devil's Wedding Night Novels & Stories

Of course I own you,” Dominic growled as he stepped closer, his presence heavy, his breath brushing her neck. “I belong to nobody,” Aria snapped, though her fists trembled as she backed away. A slow smirk curved his lips. In one sharp movement, he pulled her against him, her fragile body trapped by his solid frame. “You don’t get to decide that, princess,” he said coldly. “I’ll pay my father’s debt,” Aria lifted her chin, fear crawling through her chest. “And when I do, I’ll be free…from you.” “Aria,” he murmured, tightening his grip. “You’re mine. And no one else will touch what’s mine.” Aria has always been quiet, timid, soft-spoken, and worn down by life. Raised by an alcoholic“ father”who never protected her, she learned early that survival meant silence. She endured bruises, hunger, and loneliness, clinging to the hope that one day the pain would fade. That hope shatters when her father disappears, leaving behind a deadly debt owed to the most powerful mafia in the country. The price isn’t money. It’s her. Aria is taken not to be killed, but to be claimed. The man who claims her is Dominic, the ruthless mafia lord feared by all. Cold. Merciless. Untouchable. But beneath the cruelty lies a truth that shakes her to her core. Dominic is the boy she once loved. The boy who promised to protect her—and vanished without a goodbye. Now he is both her nightmare and her past, and Aria must survive a world where love is dangerous, loyalty is deadly, and some promises refuse to stay buried.

“For someone who’s soon to be married, you sure look miserable, Mr?” “Creed,” the man replies, his words slurred, almost like he’s absent minded. “Alexander Creed.” He completes. . . . Two days to the wedding. Two days to Alexander’s wedding, his path crosses with a girl who makes him feel like himself. Evangeline. They share a dance at a club, and that dance led to a steamy night together. A steamy night that somehow left lingering emotions. When Alexander decides not to push through with the wedding, his bride-to-be reveals a heartbreaking information. Evangeline’s and Alexander’s meeting was never a coincidence. For Evangeline, it was just a job, but for Alexander, her name has refused to evade his memory. What will happen when she returns three months later with the resulting factor of their affair? Read to find out.

At the dinner on the third day after our wedding, my husband Ryan Lawson's adopted sister, Zelda Lawson, shoved a baby into my arms along with a legal document. "Victoria Sullivan, I know you can't have children, so I had one for Ryan. This baby is my wedding gift to you. Sign this custody agreement, and we can all still be one family." I did not take it. Instead, I turned to look at Ryan standing beside me. He stepped in front of Zelda protectively and said coldly, "Just sign it, Victoria. I can't let the family line end with me." As I looked at his matter-of-fact expression, I suddenly laughed. Since that was the case, this marriage was no longer worth keeping.

My marriage to Lucian Hawke was hailed as the most perfect union in the mafia world. As the daughter of the Sinclair family and him being the sole heir of the Hawke family, our marriage united the two most powerful mafia families in the Northeastern. I thought we were unbreakable. Then, I was diagnosed with terminal cancer. As if life couldn’t get any worse, my husband's first love returned—on the very same day. That night, the man I’d been married to for years didn’t come home. The next morning, his voice was cold, distant. Indifferent. “I’ve got the divorce papers ready. When can you come sign them?” I hesitated, struggling to steady my voice. “I’m still at the hospital.” He didn’t even pause. “I don’t care if you're on your deathbed, Elara. Come home and sign the goddamn papers.” My heart shattered, but I refused to let it show. “As you wish, Lucian.” What he didn’t know was that I was dying—literally. A week later, at my funeral, Lucian wearing a tuxedo, weeping at my grave, whispering regrets he should have voiced when I was still breathing. Ironically, my funeral day, was also his wedding day with his sweetheart. But it was too late, my love. This time, you’ll never see me again.

"You’re mine, Emery. You always have been." Emery Hart is a lawyer, famous for crafting the perfect prenup agreement for couples. But her most frustrating client? The one and only billionaire, Darren Blackwood, her ex-husband. Every time he gets engaged, he hires her to draft the contract, only for the relationship to crash and burn. Emery tells herself it’s just business, but deep down, she knows the truth, Darren is still playing with her. When another prenup lands on her desk, she assumes it's just another fiancée. But Darren corners her, his voice low and possessive. "Did you even read it, sweetheart? This contract… it’s for you." Trapped in his games, Emery confronts the past she’s been running from. Because Darren never stopped wanting her and this time, he won’t let her go.

He slid the diamond ring onto her finger with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Smile for the cameras, Fiancee." And as the Flashblubs exploded around them, Serena whispered to herself, " I'm going to destroy you, Damien Alaric."

My elder sister, Emma Rothschild, longs for a life of luxury. As such, she requests to marry the prince of Northia, Matias Redburn. On the other hand, I'm married off to an elven scholar visiting human territory, Aleron Glintwood. After the wedding with Emma, Matias leaves Northia and visits the giant clan's territory to establish a trade route. He's never heard of again. Meanwhile, I accompany Aleron to Empiria. He obtains a teaching position at the Royal Academy of Magic by virtue of his elven talent for magic. As for me, I become a highly envied professor's wife. Emma continues to live alone in the Northian Frozen Plains. She's later discovered to be having an affair with a human knight. When the Draconian Council of Elders exiles her from their lands, our father—Gareth Rothschild—furiously declares that he's severing ties with her. She's thus forever cut off from the Rothschild family. While I'm on my way home for the festival, Emma forcibly stops my carriage. She begs me to take her home and put in a good word for her. Along the way, she suddenly grabs the reins. As a result, the carriage goes out of control and tumbles over a cliff. When I regain consciousness, I see Emma on the floor. She's crying and demanding a change in engagement plans. At that moment, I realize that she's also been reborn. However, Emma doesn't know that life with the elves isn't as wonderful as she imagines. I immediately begin preparing for the magic academy's entrance exam. This time, I'll spare no effort to be admitted into the academy myself.

Thalia Corsini's wedding night ends with seven bullets and her husband's blood soaking through her white dress. Rafael Torrisi dies in her arms before they can even consummate the marriage, and when she screams for help, nobody comes fast enough. Three days later, she's at another altar. Same family. Different brother. Dante Torrisi looks at her like she pulled the trigger herself. He's colder than Rafael ever was, more brutal, and infinitely more dangerous. Their marriage is a prison sentence designed to save a crumbling alliance between two crime families on the brink of war. But someone is still trying to kill Thalia. The attempts keep coming, a sniper's bullet, a car bomb, poison meant for her wine glass. Dante is forced to protect the woman he blames for his twin's death, and as they dig deeper into the murder, they realize Rafael might not have been the target at all. In a world where love is weakness and trust gets you killed, Thalia and Dante have to decide: destroy each other, or discover who really wanted her dead.

At my wedding rehearsal, my fiancé's colleague, Haley Rhodes burst in and tore apart the carefully arranged decor. "Ryan promised he'd marry me!" she shrieked, storming closer, "Who do you think you are?" Without warning, she lunged, grabbing hold of the wedding gown, which was worth a fortune. But she only got so far—she was too heavyset to even squeeze it past her head. I let out a mocking laugh. "Don't tell me you're too big to fit even a plus-size wedding dress?" That really set her off. With grim determination, she forced herself into the gown. But as soon as she did, the delicate fabric tore, leaving absurdly stretched holes across her back and waist. "Too bad the dress is ruined now. But who cares?" she sneered triumphantly. "Ryan loves me. He’ll buy me another wedding gown, anyway." But when the actual wedding began, she got the shock of her life. The groom walking down the aisle wasn’t Ryan at all. It was their boss — Ryan and Haley's boss. Well, I never said this was my wedding.

A unique video went viral overnight. In the video, on a snow-capped mountain peak, my boyfriend, Ted Moretti, knelt on one knee, his expression tender. Amidst applause, the ring on her finger sparkled; it was the ring of the Moretti family's future bride. Within hours, the video topped various trending charts. People hailed it as the most romantic proposal of the year. Anya Rossi later posted a message. "I've been looking forward to this wedding for so long, and now it's finally happening! Thank you!" The comment section was instantly flooded with excited exclamations. "A Mafia family heir and an ordinary woman? I love it!" "It's like something out of a novel." "So enviable." I went to my boyfriend to confirm. Before I could even speak, I heard him talking to a close friend in the study. “Do I have any other choice?” Ted said, a hint of annoyance in his voice. “If I don’t marry her, her gambler father will sell her off.” His friend hesitated. “But what about Carly? She’s been with you for so many years. Aren’t you worried she might lose her mind?” Ted chuckled, unconcerned. “So what if she’s angry? Carly and I have been together for six years. She won’t leave. She can’t leave.” At that moment, something deep inside me seemed to freeze completely. A month later On the same day Ted and Carly got married, I married another man. Our wedding processions met downtown. According to custom, we exchanged bouquets between the two passing wedding cars, and our windows rolled down simultaneously. That’s when Ted saw me. I was wearing a white wedding dress. Not behind him. But in another man’s arms. After knowing Ted Moretti for so many years, his consistently perfect composure crumbled for the first time.