The Ruined Bride Novels & Stories

After that, he disappeared from my life. Later, I heard he'd been in a serious car accident on his way home, in critical condition, calling my name from his hospital bed, hoping I'd show up. His mother even called, begging me to visit, but I refused. She'd watched as my grandma collapsed at my wedding—she had no right to ask for anything now. As for Bella, Ethan didn't spare her. He took over her family's business and drove them all to bankruptcy, leaving her disgraced and destitute.

“I’ll be back soon. Don’t miss me too much.” When he left, I locked my door with so much force, I almost pulled the door knob off. But his words remained with me, their words have always remained. I spent the rest of the day in my room, not even venturing out for my meals. After the morning’s humiliation, I didn’t want to have to face madam Maria and the other staff. It was the classic fall from grace but in my case I was never at grass. I had gone from being the cherished bride who, despite what Ibrahim said, had been the object of the minister’s affection…to being someone whose sight he couldn’t stand.

“It’s my wedding dress. Someone… someone destroyed it. It’s ruined, Ava. It’s completely ruined.” There was a pause on the other end of the line, and then Ava’s voice came through, less groggy now. “What do you mean, destroyed? What happened?” “I-I don’t know,” I cried, my words tumbling out in a rush. “I came back to my room, and it was just… torn to pieces. Nicholas is checking for a break-in, but there’s no sign of one. Ava, it can’t be fixed. It’s destroyed, and the wedding is tomorrow!”

'This way, Jeanne will never be able to leave me again. But the next morning, when he finally arrived at the villa, he froze. The once-grand house lay in a blackened ruin. Charred rubble and singed timbers remained; a gust of wind sent choking ash swirling through the air. He stumbled into the wreckage, following his memory to Jeanne's room. What he found made his eyes widen as if smoke had filled his head—only twisted rebar and a collapsed bedframe remained. Nothing human, nothing intact. The woman from the footage, hollow and submissive, and the camera that had recorded her—both had vanished without a trace.

The cathedral doors burst open. Dozens of armed men stormed inside. One old man shouted, “Kill the cursed bride!” The young warrior immediately drew his sword. “No one touches my wife!” Steel clashed. Blood covered the cathedral floor. Flames consumed the altar. The bride cried while holding him. “I’m sorry…” He smiled weakly. “You promised…” He whispered. “…you’d find me again.” Everything dissolved into darkness. ⸻ Present Alessio gasped violently. He fell to one knee.

The first scream came from the bridal suite. Eva Hart looked up from the seating chart in her hands. A makeup artist rushed past her, nearly knocking over a tray of champagne. "What happened?" Eva asked, catching the woman's arm. "The bride..." The woman's face had gone pale. "She's gone." Eva frowned. "Gone where?" "I—I don't know." For a second, the world around her seemed to stop. Outside, a string quartet continued playing as though nothing had happened. Guests laughed over glasses of champagne. Camera flashes lit up the entrance of the Blackwood Estate.

I went to the kitchen and started clearing the cups from breakfast just to have something to do with my hands. Julian came down a little later. He looked toward the empty driveway through the window, then at me. “So the bride has left the building,” he said. I didn’t answer. He poured coffee. “A week of quiet. How convenient.” “Don’t start.” “I’m only making an observation.” He leaned against the counter. “You and my brother alone in this big house. No Chloe. No wedding noise. No audience.” I put the last cup in the sink and turned to face him. “If you have something to say, say it.”

] [Please remove the nail from Ximena's head and use the universal glue to repair her skull to increase intimacy. [Survival is not easy. Please keep working hard.] The ghost bride's name really was Ximena. I glanced at the top of her head. There was a gaping hole, and inside it sat a rusty nail. A chill ran down my spine. However, that brief hesitation was enough for Ximena's expression to turn icy. "Guards. Cut this groom into pieces and serve him to the guests." Not far away, a bloated, grotesque puppet slowly sharpened the blade in its hand. The grinding metal sound scraped against my nerves.

The bride moved like silk in current. One moment she stood on the dock. The next her red sleeve wrapped around my throat, cold as drowning. "Hungry little temple," she crooned. "All doors, no depth." Ava swung. The crowbar tore through the bride's veil, revealing not Aunt Lan but a skull packed with pearls. The pearls opened tiny eyes. [Grudge source: stolen wedding offerings.] Madam Qiao had said paper goods mattered. So did offerings.

Water rushed across the asphalt. The driver slowed. Armani looked through the windshield. “Keep going.” “Yes, sir.” We continued. The estate disappeared behind us. The city lights became fewer. The rain grew heavier. I watched water stream down the window. “This was a terrible idea,” The engine sputtered. The car jerked as the headlights flickered. Then the engine died. Silence. Only the rain remained. I stared through the windshield. “We’re stopped.” Armani reached for the door handle.