The Ton Bridgerton Novels & Stories

My hands still smelled like roses and sugar and everything I’d planned for a future that no longer existed. "Mia Evans." I stiffened. The voice was low, precise, the kind of cold that could cut glass. I turned, and there he was. Alexander Blake. He didn’t belong here, not really. Not in a family scandal disguised as a wedding. But the infamous billionaire with eyes like steel and a reputation colder than a Russian winter stood barely three feet away, suit immaculate, expression unreadable. "Excuse me?" I managed, brushing a tear away with the back of my hand.

Duncan was quick to interrupt. "No, I'm not!" I snapped glaring at him. He dragged me off to the other side of the staircase. "What the heck is going on here?" I asked him. He ran his hands through his hair. "Listen, I need you to go along with the flow. He wants you to be his bride, you both are not getting married." I glared at him. "You want me to get married to an unknown person?" "It's just for show, ok, they're gonna explain everything to you," he replied.

It’s been a while since Bridgette set foot in Hounslow. She stepped out of the train and breathed in the fresh scent of morning air along with the aromas of various street foods. Hounslow is a small town in Outer London. Some people find this place dull and boring, but for Bridgette, it is a piece of heaven. "Hey, wait for me!" said a familiar voice behind her. She almost forgot that she had company. She turned her head and saw Troy walking briskly towards her.

Bentley pointed out. “Once we were married, yes. I was a bastard to her as well. Her sweetness changed me.” I scrubbed my face, feeling weary, all the joy of the day eclipsed by this event. “The name Juliet Brennan sounded familiar, but there is no solid memory of her—at least, not yet.” “You’re in shock,” Maddox said, his look of understanding almost breaking me.

He looked lik‍e he w​anted to jump acro‍ss⁠ the r‌o⁠om and gr‍ab‍ me. "‍Lad⁠ie​s and g‍entlemen," t‍h‍e⁠ an‍nou​ncer said. "Our ne‌xt​ i‌tem is a rar‌e product donat​e‍d by the Th‍or​ne estate​⁠."

Nathan Cross? Adrian Kane? or her own?

"The head of security mentioned he stepped out to take a call. You know how the Kingston board is, even on their wedding day. The merger documents for the Shanghai expansion were finalized this morning. He’s likely just securing his legacy before he officially begins his life with you." Sophia nodded, forcing herself to believe the narrative. She had spent the last year navigating Alexander’s world, learning that for a man of his stature, love was rarely an island; it was a kingdom, and kingdoms required constant tending. Still, a strange, hollow sensation bloomed in her chest. She turned away from the mirror, her heels clicking against the marble floor as she paced the length of the bridal

Hundreds of people were already out there waiting for the bride to show up; how were my parents supposed to go out there and tell them the bride was a no-show? "Maybe she's stuck in traffic," I offer, but even I don't believe my words. The door of the dressing room swings open, and in walked Xavier's father, shit, he did not look happy. Standing at a height of 6'1, Adrian Sinclair stood in the middle of the dressing room, his gaze intimidating as they fixated on my parents. "Where is your daughter?" he questions, his gaze intimidating as they land on my mother, who was holding on to my father for dear life. My mother paled under Adrian's heavy gaze. Little things scared my mother, but an ang

“Bryan… I’ve loved you longer than I’ve had the courage to admit. And standing here like this, in this dress, with you…I feel like I’m finally allowed to breathe.” “Then breathe, sweetheart,” he whispered, his voice breaking with emotion. “Breathe with me. From now on, every breath is ours.” The world outside the boutique was loud with traffic, with life. But inside, it was just us, cocooned in love and the promise of forever. And then the door slammed open. The sound was sharp, jarring, out of place among the soft hum of bridal chatter. I turned, my breath catching. Tony. His eyes were wild, his movements sharp and in his hand was a gun.