Novel & Cerita The Ton Bridgerton

Adrian Cross smiled for the cameras like a man who had just conquered the world. Beside him stood Elena Langford, glowing beneath the flashes of expensive cameras and media attention, every inch the perfect rich man’s bride. The internet was obsessed already. Business blogs called it the union of the year. Investors called it strategic. The public called it romantic. I called it predictable. A humorless smile tugged briefly at my lips before disappearing just as quickly. Adrian had always been ambitious, but the problem with ambitious men was that they eventually confused greed for intelligence. Marrying Leonard Langford’s daughter was not love. It was business. A move. A transaction wrappe

All I needed was space. Sebastian Spenser. The heir of Spenser cooperation and legitimate face of the family business. He is taking me as his bride because he needed me to give him an heir. Because my grandfather thought it was good for business. I stared down at my wedding dress. It is a heavy Ralph Lauren custom made ball. It was made up of the finest Chinese silk with a floral of white lilies. It is gorgeous, fancy and expensive. It was chosen by my mother. I would have preferred a simple yet elegant one but mother insisted I get this particular one. Only the best for the Spenser and Hastings union.

James stammered, crawling backward. Akam crouched before him, his glowing eyes locking onto James. “nothing too personal.” James didn’t even have time to scream. Nellie Bridge – Heiress to the Bridge Empire and daughter of a billionaire senator Sir Muhammad Nellie paced her lavish bedroom, her phone pressed to her ear. She was deep in conversation with her fiancé, discussing their upcoming wedding. The sound of gunfire shattered the tranquility of the night. She froze, the phone slipping from her hand as her bodyguards’ shouts echoed through the house.

One of the girls asked, I think her name is Jean. I shrugged as another silent tear escaped my eye. Good, I was pathetic. I was an emotional wreck and there was no hiding it. Jonathan had promised me that he would take care of my brother before escorting me back to this room where the two girls were waiting to do the magic and turn me into a good looking bride. I wonder if they could do tricks to my aching heart too. A tissue appeared in front of me and I dutifully took it as I wiped my tears. “We are going to do your makeup.” I looked up to see Jean’s concerned eyes, it was more to do with me ruining her makeup by my crying than the reason for my tears.

Cane POV: Tone: Menacing, obsessive, possessive --- I sat on the edge of the motel bed, my gaze fixed on my phone. The air in the room was thick with the smell of dust and cheap bleach, and the curtains hung askew, letting in slivers of light. I hadn’t eaten all day, but it didn’t bother me. A video popped up on my screen, sent by someone without a word of explanation. I pressed play. It was Dominic and Lena, and they were outside in a garden. She walked alongside him, moving slowly. He had his jacket slung over one arm, and he leaned in to say something. She didn’t smile, nor did she pull away.

Hazel shot him a glare, her eyes burning with defiance. “Not everyone has the luxury of living without burdens like you do.” Theo’s expression remained calm, entirely unaffected by Hazel’s anger. A faint smirk played at the corner of his lips before he turned his attention back to his phone. Moments later, the car slowed to a stop before an imposing iron gate. Hazel stared in disbelief as it opened smoothly, revealing a stone-paved driveway leading to a massive mansion standing proudly in the middle of a vast garden. The soft glow of garden lights illuminated every corner, making the place look like something out of a fairy tale.

Chapter 6 The Bridgerton family home was, by any reasonable measure, one of the quieter residences in the city's affluent north quarter. It had thick walls, sensible insulation, and neighbors who had long since learned to interpret unusual sounds from the property as simply "something the Bridgerton children were doing" and leave it at that. This had served the family well through six boisterous sons and one daughter who had, at various points in her life, decided to learn the violin, take up competitive fencing, and once—memorably—attempt to breed racing pigeons in the attic.

Damien asked while drinking the juice Aella had placed before him. "Bridgerton" Aella replied almost immediately. "How many times are you going to see that movie?" Damien asked, shaking his head. "What do you suggest, then?" Aella asked back. "Destination," Damien replied. "What the actual hell is that?" Aella asked. "Something better than Bridgerton," Damien replied.

"Oh My! Young Miss, look at this! They were drawing the illustration of the author! He is so handsome!" Her servant pointed a picture in the last pages of the books. A man with dark chocolate hair and a pair of beautiful eyes which have the same colour with his short hair. He looks like a small porcelain doll with warm smile. Just as Mary say, he is indeed a good-looking man. Gillian Bridgerton was a name which written under his picture. "Young Miss, he is living in Capital! A young man who wrote so many romantic stories must be knowing about how to treat woman! I like him already!"

’ Pale, soft, and chubby… My mind conjured an image of a freshly baked Chelsea bun. The golf cart turned a bend on the path. A vast expanse of green opened up before us. In the distance were forests and a lake. Closer by stood two men in athletic wear, deep in conversation. The man in the dark blue top and tan trousers was Colin Bridgerton. Beside him, standing a good half-head taller in pristine white sportswear, was a figure of unmatched elegance. He had the broad shoulders and narrow waist of an athlete, and when he turned his head, the light carved out a profile so handsome it seemed airbrushed.