The Wrong Bride Catharina Maura Novels & Stories

“I said no.” Charlie’s expression did not change in the slightest, as though her refusal had never even registered. Rain battered the balcony windows behind them, the violent rhythm echoing through the storm-darkened night while cold wind pressed against the glass. Inside, the rest of the family continued laughing over wedding plans, blissfully unaware of the quiet war unfolding only a few feet away or perhaps simply unwilling to acknowledge it. Charlie stepped closer, his presence imposing and deliberate. “You’re not in a position to refuse.”

I stood a few feet from the bed, my muscles tight and trembling from the cold, before walking quietly toward the full-length mirror by the dark wood wardrobe. I looked like a mess. The high, stiff collar of my wedding dress was crushed and stained with dirt from my failed escape through the window bars. The thick makeup my mother had ordered the maids to plaster on my face was smeared across my cheeks. But no amount of powder could hide the dark purple bruise blooming along my jawline, a parting gift from my father's hand before they dragged me to the courthouse. A low, rough groan broke the heavy silence.

Her face wore an expression I absolutely hated: a mix of anger, worry, and readiness to murder someone administratively. “What?” I asked. She slid the tablet toward me. There was an article on the screen. The headline was big enough to punch me in the face. THE BORROWED BRIDE WHO STAYED: MAYA MOGUEL’S FAST RISE INSIDE THE DE CASTELLO WORLD I stared at it. Then I laughed. “Borrowed bride,” I repeated quietly. “Creative.” Catalina sat in the chair across from me. “Read below it.” “I’d rather eat staples.”

The look of confusion on her face made me laugh even more. “Oh, you didn’t know? You came here to meet your future husband, didn’t you?” Sienna frowned, her lips parted as she processed what I just said. “Y-You’re Lucian Moretti?” “The one and only,” I replied, walking toward her with open arms. I didn’t expect she’d be able to get away from me and even had a gun with her. My intel said that the head of the Vale clan cherished his daughter dearly. Who would have expected that the cherished daughter could break an opponent’s bone and know how to shoot?

She could never own his heart, only Clarice could. “Mr. Rodriguez when is the wedding” A reporter asked but he ignored her he unlink his hands and walked away “Very soon” Nora answered before posing one more time then headed inside “Damian darling what happened “ nora asked “Don't try to act like my wife nora” he said “Damian dont be rude ok, and Nora is your wife” his mum said in her voice leaving no room for arguments. The hall buzzed with quiet excitement Crystal chandeliers shone overhead casting a soft ambience across the elegantly dressed guest laughter and clinking of glasses, low conversations filled the air Damian sat beside Nora his expression unreadable, his fingers tapped on the

Caterina's POV Massimo Caruso became the biggest joke in New York. Videos of "The Island Wedding with No Bride" and "The Queen in the Cathedral" went viral on the dark web. Everyone saw the Don of the Caruso family get thrown out of a church. They also saw his "innocent" little sweetheart throwing a tantrum on the floor. He tried to kill the story. But he forgot. The servers that control the media now belonged to my husband.

"One last thing. I will need to know your bride's name. And I will need to greet her, just so that she knows who I am. With your permission, of course, Mikhail Ivanov." "Fine." I nod. "It's Maria Rostova." Nina's hand stills for a moment. I know what she's thinking. Rostova is not a name one associates with the Bratva. It's obviously a fake one, but it's the only one I have. Maria's past is linked to her hometown, Holtsville, and nothing else. Without another word, Nina gets up and approaches an apprehensive Maria.

"Why did I marry this ugly cow! It's all wasted now, Mama." Cara bit her lip to control her sobs and her gaze found the newly couple holding hands and smiling on the stage. She looked at Aaron and then Bella. She cursed her fate which bound her to her hostile husband. Lucia shook her head. "No. There is a difference between your wife and his fiance. Your wife is the niece of De Luca and her father is his Consigliere," She gestured at the smiling figure of Aaron's fiancee. "Who is she? A waitress who slapped him in front of thousands of people during your wedding reception. If You think people have forgotten about that incident, then we must remind them about it."

i warned and went to my room what is wrong with me I cant believe i punched carl just becaus he called rosie a whore This is unbelievable Carl pov That MF! His falling for her I hate him so much He took everything away form me I was suppose to be the next mafia leader but hell no everyone want edwardo All the money he has now were suppose to be mine All the girls falling at his feet were suppose to fall at mine The one girl i love edwardo took her away from me He turned her into one of his whores I turned gay because of that All i ever wanted and desired edwardo took them away from me

Our story begins in December 455, Samhain is approaching, and the beauty Catherine pulls big sleigh full of soldiers “provisions on the hill in deep snow, to the highest point of the Crown for the Weavers” Bastion. Kids, her younger brothers and sisters are pushing sleds and Catherine drags, drags. He saw all this agony of a young beauty, Val Dragwer rushed to the rescue in front of his friends. Surprised the soldiers of his swagger, they looked at each other, it was too unlike Dragwer. Thus began one of the love stories of our hero, Val Dragwer and Katharina. Then Catherine was 17 and Dragwer 24. He was young, tall, thin, and incredibly attractive, with jet-black mustache and hair. His eyes