Novel & Cerita The Heir's Secret Bride

I stood up, rubbed the sleep from my eyes, and looked at the pile of fabric I had brought with me. I had to get to work. I had to find a way to pay Mrs. Gable next week. I had to build a fortress out of thread and needles. Because the "Contract Bride" was dead, and the woman who replaced her had a son to protect. Adrian Wolfe could have his merger. He could have his Serena. He could have the whole world. I only wanted this twelve-foot box and the secret beating inside me. I picked up my shears, the steel cold and famili

Why did you bought her?" Mickel asked, MackLop couldn't tell his two sons why he bought Camilla, but he want any of his son to Impregnate her but he doesn't want them to get married to Camilla, because he wants Camilla to give him secret heir to his business empire, When Mickel saw that MacLop refused to talk, he left his father with annoyance, and he went to meet Camilla, and he asked, "do you have where to go?" Mickel asked,

Every Blackwell heir was tied to a blood offering on the night of their wedding. A cruel pact made generations ago with something they only referred to as The Veiled One. And then I saw it: "The Chosen Bride must be bound to the blood heir under a cursed moon, or else the curse shall consume the heir from within. If the bond is rejected, the heir shall turn against the bride, and the bride shall turn into death." My blood froze. They never wanted love. They wanted a sacrifice. Alika wasn’t my salvation. She was my sentence. I turned the pages in a frenzy, heart pounding. Symbols, diagrams, rituals scrawled in old Latin. Every word screamed of madness and obsession. And then—

It was all too perfect. I closed my eyes, pretending to sleep, but I was fully alert, listening for any sound from the staircase. I knew it was only a matter of time before Tammie came down. The bride always checks on her groom, right? It didn’t take long. I heard the faint creak of the staircase, the soft padding of footsteps descending. A wicked thrill shot through me. It was her. I just knew it. I barely opened my eyes, keeping them just the slightest bit parted so I could see through my lashes. There she was, standing on the last step, frozen in place as her eyes landed on us.

Max answered with a smile plastered on his face, for the show. “Miss. Evelyn Carter, do you take Maximilian Sterling to be your lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, for better or for worse?” the priest asked, turning his focus to me this time while I stood frozen at the altar, dressed up in white as a bride. Still, I didn’t feel like a bride. Because this was all new to me, all against my wishes. I never imagined myself getting married like this, or entering into a contract marriage, to give a legitimate heir to a billionaire, a man I barely know about—a total stranger.

His gaze settled on me, and I felt a chill run down my spine. “So, this is the bride?” he said, his voice deep and laced with a hint of amusement. The Alpha of our pack stepped forward, nodding. “This is Claudia, my eldest daughter. She will make a fine match for your heir.” I clenched my fists, my nails biting into my palms. My future had been decided, and there was no escape. As Killian extended his hand toward me, I forced myself to meet his gaze. Whatever lay ahead, I would face it with the strength my mother had passed down to me.

I looked at Damien Chen properly for the first time since walking into the room and found him already looking at me with an expression that was completely calm and completely unreadable, the same calmness he'd had standing in the rain with an umbrella, like a man who was very rarely surprised by anything. My father cleared his throat. "The agreement," he said, "stipulates that Mr. Chen will marry the eldest Harrington daughter. We had naturally assumed—" "I want to marry you, Celeste." Damien said it without doubt in his eyes, like he had already made up his mind on what he wanted. I stood up abruptly. The chair scraped back behind me and I was on my feet within seconds, my hands finding the

she said, “it’s not forever by force. If I want out one day—” “You’re free,” Dante said instantly. “Always.” She studied him. Then, slowly, deliberately, she reached for the pen on the counter. “Okay,” she said. His breath caught. “I’ll be your secret bride.” Dante’s control cracked—just for a second. He crossed the distance and pulled her into his arms, not desperate, not possessive—protective. Certain. He pressed his forehead to hers. “One day,” he murmured, “the world will know your name.”

"My lady? Who was it? You look like you've seen a ghost." "Worse," I muttered, sinking into a chair. "A brother. Elias. Claims he's the hidden heir from the ledger." Her eyes widened, and she crossed herself quickly. "Lord preserve us. If that's true, the will... everything changes." The will. Father's last testament, the one that had named me sole heir provided I upheld the family traditions—marry into an approved alliance by my twenty-fifth birthday, bind the bloodline against the curse. But with a hidden heir surfacing, and Ma Felicia already scheming to insert Serena as the rightful claimant... it was a powder keg. I glanced at my phone—more messages pouring in from the suitors, from Nic