The Heir's Secret Bride Novels & Stories

Evelyn was still standing in front of Liam, waiting for an answer. Mrs Steele, and the redt had gone outside, leaving the two to themselves. The hallway outside the bridal suite buzzed with muffled laughter, the clinking of glasses, the distant swell of violins warming up for the ceremony. It all sounded unreal. Like it belonged to someone else’s life. Standing here in a dress that suddenly felt too tight across her ribs. Liam loosened his tie with one finger, then dragged a hand through his hair, disarranging the careful styling his best man had spent twenty minutes fixing. His gaze kept sliding past her shoulder, toward the window, toward anything that wasn’t her eyes.

“I swear to you, Alicia. I will burn every bridge, every dollar, before I let that happen.” “That’s what I’m afraid of,” she whispered. “That you’ll burn for me. And then resent me for it.” “Never.” “You don’t know that.” “I know me.” She wanted to believe him. God, she wanted to. A knock at the door made them both jump. It was Zara. Face grim, holding a tablet. “You need to see this,” she said. She turned the screen. A gossip site. Fresh post, twenty minutes old. *EXCLUSIVE: GEORGE HEIR’S SECRET SON - DICKSON CONNECTION EXPOSED. IS CHRIS WALES THE BIOLOGICAL UNCLE?*

She forced her eyes down, pretending to adjust her apron, as George continued toward the throne room for a discussion with his parents, King Arthur and Queen Charlotte. Inside, the King and Queen waited, seated upright and regal as the afternoon light shone on them through the tall curtains. And as usual, the topic was about his duty to the crown. The argument began almost immediately. “George, you cannot delay this any longer,” King Arthur thundered. “You are the heir. A prince without a bride is a prince without stability. Your mother and I have been patient, but your time is running out.” Queen Charlotte’s gaze softened at her son but her words mirrored her husband. “Your father is right.

“Because the last time you looked at my bag, I found a Hot Wheels car inside my makeup pouch two weeks later.” “It was parking.” “Park somewhere else.” Max smiled. Three minutes later, Maya found Kevin sitting inside her tote bag with a strip of fabric sample tied around his neck. I looked at him. Maya looked at me. “Control your heir.” “He’s not a monarchy.” Max appeared behind the chair. “I’m king.” “See?” Maya pointed at him. I looked at my son. “You are not king.” “Prince?” “No.” “CEO?” “Definitely not.”

“It’s procedure.” I swing my legs over the side of the bed. “Adrian, I lived my entire life without bodyguards.” “You also weren’t carrying the future heir to Cole Group.” “There it is again.” “What?” “That word. Asset. Heir. Future. Everything except the person.” His gaze sharpens slightly. “You’re interpreting this emotionally.” “I am emotional,” I say, gesturing at myself. “I’m pregnant, married into a corporate war, and apparently scheduled like a government official.”

"It has to be a secret marriage." "Mr. Black is no longer a bachelor? It's fine, I can go and kill myself now then. What's the excess of me living anymore?" "I don't believe this." "There's no wedding band around his finger." "In addition to that, he's let any woman close to him. Not even his secretary!" "Did you hear about this secretary he brought to this year Lynch's yearly Charity Event?" "I didn't. Who did he bring?" "They say she's dead gorgeous."

she retorted "I do not plan to marry anyone, neither do I plan to fall in love with any" "Even if you do not fall in love, you have to get married, I need an heir or do you want De Valle's legacy to die with you?" "If what you want is an heir, I could give you that without getting married, just hang on a bit and you'll get an heir" Hazel stood up and walked out of the house he hated so much but had no choice, his mind traveled to the little boy he had just given his blood to and who could be his son, if what his mother wants is an heir, he would give that to her.

A marriage would be the last essential piece in the foundation of her mother’s career which included half of the city’s commercial real estate. He had been eager to enter the golden cage. It was meant to make him happy. Standing up, he swung his legs over the side of the bed. He approached the window and removed the thick curtain just enough to look out at the spotless driveway. He gave a little cynical laugh. “Aren’t I stuck now?” He asked. He went to his big dresser and opened the top drawer. He took up a modest little black box. When he opened it the enormous immaculate solitaire diamond engagement ring he had purchased for Bridget—which had cost him a fortune—was there.

I was terrified for the second heartbeat inside my womb, a secret I’d discovered in the bridal room. At the front of the chapel, under a canopy of candles, he, ‘The Senior -something- Alvarado’ awaited by the priest. “He seemed too young to be ‘The Senior’ himself, as the title implied a more seasoned man. His posture, the aura that radiated even from behind, the suit he was wearing… His buzzed hair made it hard to discern his hair shade, but it seemed dark brown, like Eduardo’s. ‘But he has soft, curly hair, unlike the groom before my eyes.’ I thought to myself. He pivoted slightly as I stepped next to him. My eyes slowly met his, and I shivered to my very core when his familiar gaze locked

"I know about little Matteo. You kept him tucked away, hidden in drafty attics and shadow estates, thinking you were protecting him from me. But a Ricci heir cannot grow up like a stray dog in the valley, hidden while his mother plays tailor." "He isn't your heir," I growled into the receiver, my voice dropping into a low, raspy thread so as not to wake the woman resting in my arms. "And he is nowhere near your reach." A light, musical chuckle drifted through the tiny speaker. It was a sound devoid of genuine warmth—a calculated instrument meant to mock every wall I had built around my family.