The Wedding Gift Book

My fiance, Henry Gordon, was two hours late to our vows on our wedding day. Just as he was catching his breath and about to say ‘I do’, he received a call from his secretary, Yvonne Luther. After hanging up, he looked at me apologetically. “Honey, my useless team can’t handle the personnel appointment of the financial team on their own. They’re insisting that I head back! I’ll make it up to you with another wedding later on.” I told him that I understood though I felt disappointed, because he was at a critical stage in his career. However, the moment he left without hesitation, I tossed the ring on my finger into the venue’s flower bed and announced to everyone that the wedding was cancelled. I had to see for myself who would ask Henry, a mere minority shareholder, to make such a significant decision without consulting me, the chairperson. He did not know that just a few hours earlier, I had taken back the ‘gift’ I gave him and reclaimed my position as the company’s chairperson.

I secretly ordered a delivery of a thousand roses for my wife's birthday, hoping to surprise her. After the delivery was completed, I got a message from the delivery guy. [By the way, I tossed the trash by your door on my way out. Didn't expect you to be so kinky. Good for you, man!] He even sent me a photo. In the picture was an open trash bag stuffed with shredded pantyhose. My mind went completely blank. I was overseas on a business trip. My wife was the only one at home.

On Father's Day, I received a heartwarming gift. My one-year-old son called me Dad for the first time. But moments later, he convulsed, foamed at the mouth, and died before we could reach the hospital. My wife was shattered, and I was devastated. The doctors couldn't identify the cause of his death. Three years later, my wife emerged from her grief, and we welcomed our second child. But the moment this child called me Dad, they, too, died instantly. To spare her further pain, I suggested adoption. Yet, even our adopted children met the same fate. Unable to bear the losses, my wife divorced me. Everyone said I was cursed, never meant to be a father. Defiant, I remarried and had another child, vowing never to let them call me Dad. For years, we adhered to this rule. But when our daughter turned four, she came home from preschool, eager to celebrate Father's Day. Holding a card, she read aloud, "Dad."

The day I found out I was a match for my dad—stage four leukemia—I bailed. Mom tore the world apart looking for me, but yeah, she had to watch him go. After that, she drowned herself in research, built a name, even adopted this perfect little angel. We crossed paths again at some fancy leukemia conference she was hosting. I was on the demo table. She took one look and scoffed. "Charlotte Stein, not the time for your crap. Get up and go." The host blinked, stunned. "Dr. Cooper... you know this cadaver?" She actually laughed. "What, she paid you for this stunt?" The host turned ghost-white. "M-Miss Stein passed three days ago..."

On the eve of my wedding, my wife, Sharon Moonstone, drugged me and knocked me unconscious. She let her first love, Aaron Miller, take my place as the groom, standing beside her as they held the wedding that was supposed to belong to both of us. By the time I finally found them, they had already gone into the bridal suite and consummated their marriage. When I demanded answers, Sharon did not show a trace of guilt. "You live off me. You'd better behave. Make a scene, and we'll divorce." My heart went cold. I handed her the divorce papers, but she barely looked at them. "Looks like you've improved," she said lightly. "At least you know a performance should be convincing from start to finish."

A forbidden obsession burned between two men from different worlds. Salvatore Esposito, the notorious Mafia boss known as Diablo, was consumed by his desire for Ethan, a devout pastor. Their paths crossed at Diablo's bar and nightclub, where Ethan's innocence and purity immediately captivated the ruthless devil blackened heart. Diablo's fascination with Ethan grew as he secretly observed the pastor's every move, learning his likes and dislikes but when Ethan's wedding day arrived, Diablo's possessiveness boiled over. He stormed the church in a shocking display of power and Diablo kidnapped Ethan, vowing to make the straight pastor fall in love with him. Ethan, determined to resist Diablo's advances, accepted the challenge but as they navigated their twisted game, a hidden enemy emerged, threatening to destroy both men. However, with each attack that came their way, Ethan began to see Diablo in a different light, glimpsing the complexities beneath the Diablo's facade, he realized that there is more to Diablo than he shows. As the pastor and the devil forged an unlikely understanding, the question remained: could Ethan truly fall in love with Diablo, or was the Mafia boss doomed to suffer for a love that could never be his? Would their differences tear them apart, or could they find a way to bridge the gap between their worlds?

My mother-in-law spreads lies about me having contracted an STD during my sister-in-law's wedding. When I hear this, I want to demand an explanation. However, my sister-in-law stops me and begs me to prioritize her happiness since it's her wedding. I hold myself back and wait until the reception is over. Later, my mother-in-law merely sweeps the matter under the rug and say she doesn't remember anything because she was drunk. However, the lies spread like wildfire. My neighbors scorn me, and my colleagues isolate me, treating me like a walking bacteria. I become dispirited from the constant mental distress and end up getting knocked by a car when I leave the house one day. I die from the accident. When I open my eyes again, I'm taken back to the day my mother-in-law lies about me having contracted an STD.

It was the night before my best mate’s wedding—his bachelor party, we made a deal to get blind drunk, but I arrived late. When I opened the door, I was not met with cheers, but with three corpses stalled in motion. My body went limp as my mind went blank. The only thought left in my head was that I had to call the police. “I’m calling from Block 3, Unit 301 of Silkwood Gardens. My three friends are all dead!” On the other end of the line, a female police officer responded calmly, “Please stay calm and don’t touch anything. Keep the crime scene untouched. A team will arrive shortly.” This should have been a night of wild debauchery, but I was the only one left alive. I slowly ducked my head and smiled.

After working abroad for several years, I returned home, only to have my parents arrange a blind date for me. He was tall and strikingly handsome, honest in character, steady in demeanor, and came from an excellent family background. In short, the perfect candidate for a husband. I told myself that sooner or later, marriage was inevitable, so I settled on him. The day before the wedding, I went to the church—only to be stunned by the sight before me. The entire place had been transformed into something sinister and grotesque. The walls were plastered with terrifying photos of corpses, the floor littered with wax figures of severed arms and legs, and even the flowers had been dyed black, dripping with blood-red stains. But the most infuriating part was the image hanging right at the center of the church—an AI-generated picture of me, pinned beneath my fiancé, as he whipped me. My whole body trembled with fury. I stormed at the staff still working on the decorations, ordering them to stop immediately. Just then, his best friend, Nina Cullen, walked in. "Don't stop. Yves prefers this wedding style." I froze, staring at her in disbelief. "How is that possible? Who in their right mind would decorate something as joyous as a wedding with gore? This is insane!" Nina only gave a cold, arrogant laugh. "That's the theme. If you want to marry him, you'll have to accept it." Speechless, I immediately called Yves. "Yves, I'm not interested in getting married in a haunted house. You'd better restore the church to normal; otherwise, this wedding is off."

On my wedding night, I was drugged and betrayed by the very people who were supposed to protect me. And then, I fell into the arms of a stranger, unconscious yet feeling every single sigh. Three years later, I’m a nanny trying to rebuild my life, only to discover that my new boss, who is rarely at home, is the same billionaire from that night. The man whose face no one has seen, but whose name never leaves the lips of the public. And the little girl he is raising? She is the baby I was told had died.