The Don S Wrong Bride Novels & Stories

The Don had raised them with an iron fist, controlling every facet of their lives as they grew. "Why not? Wasn't Cyan Natividad the one you were supposed to marry in the first place? It was only delayed because she ran away. Now, fate has brought her back to fulfill the obligation she once fled," the Don remarked coolly. Zach clenched his fists so tightly, his knuckles turned white. If the man before him weren't his elder, he might have been tempted to strike him in the face. "I don't care if she was the original bride. I won't marry her—or anyone else you choose!" Zach snapped, turning his back on the old man to storm out.

"Oh, how wonderful! It looks like you two have already met each other. Perfect! Since you're both already familiar, why don't you head outside for a bit? Have a conversation, get to know each other better, and then come back inside to share the good news with us." Donovan gave a stiff nod and walked out first. No "after you," no courtesy glance backward. Typical. I followed behind him, crossing my arms. The moment the door clicked shut behind us, he whirled around, his jaw clenched tight. "You've got to be joking. Marry you? Absolutely not. Not in this lifetime. Do both of us a favor and turn this down right now." "Right back at you," I fired back instantly. His eyebrows shot up. "What's tha

Caterina's POV Massimo Caruso became the biggest joke in New York. Videos of "The Island Wedding with No Bride" and "The Queen in the Cathedral" went viral on the dark web. Everyone saw the Don of the Caruso family get thrown out of a church. They also saw his "innocent" little sweetheart throwing a tantrum on the floor. He tried to kill the story. But he forgot. The servers that control the media now belonged to my husband.

Rhys Rita Sokolov. My would-be bride has the complete view of the situation. I don’t have to see June’s expression to know how stiff she is right now. Rita’s unfocused eyes narrows on us as she sways on her feet, the sound of her heels scraping on the ground amplified tenfold in the imposing silence.

"Okay, okay, the game circles back to the bride. Sloane. That kiss was a ten, but we need to top it." "No way," I laughed, waving my hand. "I have done my part. I'm done." "No, you aren't ," Lila said, a wild, feral grin spreading across her face. "I dare you to go back over there and marry him." The table went dead silent for a split second before Cassidy and Maren started screaming. "Are you crazy?" I yelled, laughing because it sounded like a joke. "Lila, you're literally insane. I can't marry a stranger!"

Across the table, Doña Carmen's chair scraped backward. The sound was deliberate. Twice as loud as mine had been. She did not stand. She only pushed the chair back a few inches, away from the table, in a small theatrical motion of disgust, and then she set her wineglass down hard enough that a drop jumped over the rim onto the linen. "And does the wife not go with her husband," she said. It was not a question. The question shape of it was only there to give the cruelty a place to sit. I did not look up.

He walked toward the massive front doors with long, confident strides. I scrambled out of the car, my heavy wedding dress tripping me. I stumbled, the white silk catching on the gravel. I managed to stay on my feet, but I felt pathetic. I was a bride in a dress that wasn't mine, in a life I didn't choose. We entered a grand hall. A woman was waiting there. She was older, with gray hair pulled into a tight, painful-looking bun. She looked at me with pure disgust. "This is not Bianca," she snapped.

Fiona’s POV There were exactly three things wrong with my wedding. One, I didn’t love the groom. Two, the groom was a dangerous mafia Don who’d practically blackmailed my father into handing me over. And three, I was seriously considering escaping through the bathroom window, except my wedding dress cost more than most people’s annual salaries, and I doubted I could fit through the damn thing. “Fiona, stop pacing. You’re making me nervous.” I turned toward Viviana, who was lounging on the sofa in a champagne-colored bridesmaid dress, sipping champagne like we were attending an ordinary wedding.

After my older sister, Aurora Moretti, flees her wedding, I'm forced to marry Damon Rovelli, the Don of the Rovelli family, whose name strikes terror into the hearts of everyone. However, seven years later, Aurora makes a high-profile return home. At the family banquet, she wraps her arms around Damon's neck and plants a passionate kiss on his lips in full view of everyone. Damon stands there, frozen in shock, while Aurora turns to me with a challenging, provocative gaze. "Liliana, you've stolen the Donna position from me for too long. It's high time you give it back to me." For a moment, nobody dares to breathe. Everyone vividly remembers how Damon had turned all of Sivilly upside down

“Everyone coming to the wedding is the cream of the city. Looking like she does now, how is Miss Sutton supposed to show her face?” “The Don’s wedding can’t become a joke. Better to postpone it, wait until she’s recovered.” “It’s already been postponed once. She really is nothing but trouble.” I lay in bed listening, and couldn’t even be bothered to open my eyes. Not long after, Adrian came. When he pushed the door open, the room went silent at once. A few of the family elders started to speak, but Adrian swept them with one cold look. “She is my bride.” “Anyone who says she can’t show her face can get the hell out of this family.”