Veronica Lodge Dress

"I don't belong to you nor anyone, I have the right to my own body and can fuck who the fuck ever I want to !" I yelled suppressing the urges of pleasure that soared through me and in that instant, he ripped my dress apart. Ava's life took a drastic turn when she got sold off by her fiance into a contracted marriage to a ruthless Lycans Alpha who saw werewolves as weak beings. Going through stringent difficulties, she finds out that cruel fate at times, propels destinies to accomplishment.

On my wedding day, my fiancé’s childhood sweetheart arrived, wearing the exact same custom wedding dress as me. They stood together, greeting guests, while I smiled and praised them as a match made in heaven. Humiliated, she left the venue in tears. In her defense, my fiancé publicly accused me of being petty and unreasonable. After the wedding reception, he left with her for the honeymoon we had planned together. I didn’t cry. Instead, I called my lawyer immediately.

"To my husband, I was a debt to be paid. To his mother, I was a womb to be poisoned. But to his father... I am a Queen." Veronica Marquez was the perfect, unused wife—until her husband auctioned her off to the highest bidder to cover his debt. She expected a monster. Instead, she got Maxwell Romanov. Maxwell is cold, scarred, and obsessed. He didn’t just buy her body; he bought her soul to weaponize it against the family that betrayed them both. But as he trains her to be his Queen, a dark secret emerges: Maxwell isn't a stranger. He’s the dead father Thaddeus and Meredith tried to kill years ago. As vengeance twists into desire and power becomes intoxicating, one question lingers beneath the crown she wears—did she become his Queen because he believed in her strength… or was she nothing more than a carefully chosen pawn in a father’s revenge against his own blood?

"Are you sure you can get out of this trap, Arka? The trap you created for yourself long ago." The sentence haunted Arka's mind every time he looked at the woman who was now sitting gracefully on his lap. Amidst the glimmer of crystal lamps and the sheen of a gold dress, his ex-wife, Kania, looked like a queen who had just reclaimed her throne. Arka knew they were no longer bound by a sacred vow. Their divorce was final, signed on stamped paper years ago. Yet, in this private room, with the aroma of whiskey and Kania's challenging gaze, Arka once again became the helpless, foolish man. Tonight was supposed to be the celebration of his new engagement. He was supposed to be celebrating a new chapter. But Kania's presence in the private lounge, in a high-slit dress that showed off her long legs, had ruined everything. "You didn't have to come, Kania," Arka hissed, his voice choked. Kania smiled cynically, caressing Arka's jaw with her cold fingers. "You're right, darling. I didn't have to come. But I had to make sure of one thing: that your heart... still belongs to me, just like before." It turned out that getting out of the marriage was much easier than getting out of his ex-wife's love. Will Arka continue his engagement? Or will he return to his ex-wife?

It was Hana Verlice’s engagement party — but the only thing she could think about was that night six months ago. The night Dante Carter pinned her against the backseat window of his car,cheeks pressed to the glass, her dress lifted to her waists, with his mouth buried between her legs. Now, she was hours away from marrying his older brother. Elijah Osborne Carter — the perfect man, heir to Osborne Pharmaceuticals, and her father’s last hope of saving their crumbling empire. But as she slipped into her designer dress, her mind couldn't stop thinking about the one man she could never have. Dante. The mistake she was supposed to forget. The temptation she swore never to touch again. The younger brother who disappeared after that night and was never supposed to come back. But as she stepped out of her dressing room to join her soon-to-be husband at the party, there he was. Leaning at the foot of the stairs like raw sin. Messy hair. Dark eyes. That cocky mouth that once had her moaning his name in ecstacy. Her pulse quickened as her knees threatened to give out. She tried to breathe. To stay still. But one look at him… and she knew she was in trouble. “What the hell are you doing here?” she whispered, her voice barely holding. He smirked, slow and knowing as his gaze dropped shamelessly to her lips. “Did you miss me, cookie?”

I have a deal with Aldric Cromwell, the so-called King of Equinox Street, a billionaire lawyer-turned-CEO. If I confess to him 142 times while wearing a wedding dress, he will cover his limited-edition Koenigsegg in flowers, drive me to the most magical castle, and give me the grandest wedding imaginable on my 143rd try. However, Aldric is nowhere to be seen that day. Instead, he makes headlines by renting out the entire Wondergrove Theme Park just to celebrate his sweet new girlfriend, Bianca Alvarez's birthday. Bathed in the glow of brilliant fireworks, they share a tender kiss, cameras flashing like stars all around them. That moment quickly becomes the top trending story on the internet. Meanwhile, I go viral in my own way for showing up in a wedding dress for the 143rd time outside his company building. Speculations and theories swirl about the mystery man I keep confessing to but never reveal. People also wonder how long it will be before I make the 144th declaration. When Aldric realizes I have faithfully kept our agreement, he promises me, out of pure guilt, that he will finally fulfill the vow he's made to me after the final confession. Dressed to the nines, he arrives at his company, driving that flower-covered, limited edition Koenigsegg, only to receive a final text from me. "There won't be a 144th confession, Aldric. We're over."

The sixth year I gave up my family, my name, everything, to be with Marcus. That’s when I found out I was just a stand-in for the one he could never forget. And now, she was back. I accepted my family’s arrangement. The marriage alliance. The day my engagement dress arrived at the office, Marcus looked pissed. “I thought we agreed we’d get married when my career was more stable.” I said nothing. But when the wedding invitation arrived, Marcus finally broke. The groom wasn't him. It was the heir to the Moretti family.

Veronica, a musician in a band, finds herself on a sticky wicket when she realizes that the man of her dreams—Théo Reynaud—is an elaborate masquerade to his danger-seeking alter ego. As she tries to stay relevant in the music scene, she battles depression and bouts of anxiety while dealing with a dysfunctional long-distance relationship. Théo is a fashion model striving to make a good living in the cutthroat industry while moonlighting as an informant. After a vindictive crime boss endangers his family, he is tasked to complete his final assignment to keep his loved ones out of harm's way, and be with the woman he loves. ▬▬▬▬▬▬ genres: CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE, CRIME, DRAMA ▬▬▬▬▬▬ This is a work of fiction. Places, characters, dialogues, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination, or are used fictitiously. This story contains profanity, sexual themes, drug usage, and some violence intended for mature readers. Read at your own risk. [DISCLAIMER: The author does not own the original images on the book cover.]

On my birthday, my adopted sister, Sophia Norris, frames me for soiling her dress and causing her to not be able to attend the banquet. My older brothers, Gerald and Gary Moore, immediately demand that I give my gown to Sophia. Otherwise, they will cancel the birthday banquet. Furious, I point at them while screaming, "I didn't ruin her dress at all! She was the one who splashed red wine onto it! "Also, I will never give my gown to her! My best friend designed it for me!" As soon as my words fall, Gerald commands the bodyguards to tear the gown from my body. At the same time, Gary picks up a wine glass and dumps red wine onto my face. "It's bad enough that you constantly bully Sophia! Today, her crush, Zachary Green, will be attending the banquet too! Do you have any idea how long she has prepared for this day to come?" Gerald adds, "A vile woman like you doesn't have the right to be born, let alone celebrate your birthday!" After that, a few bodyguards drag me into the basement. Immediately, pitch-black darkness swallows me. I have severe asthma. Breathing becomes insanely difficult for me as seconds tick by. I keep screaming loudly and calling for help, but all I hear is laughter coming from the banquet upstairs. It isn't until the banquet is well underway that Gerald and Gary remember that I exist. But I've already died in the cramped basement.

I ended a pregnancy before it reached three months—and he never even knew. He was too busy rekindling things with his ex, still tangled in old flames. To make her feel comfortable, he gave her my master bedroom like it was nothing. He even turned what was supposed to be our engagement party into a welcome party for her. He let me become the laughingstock of everyone around us. So I turned away, cut up my engagement dress, and agreed to marry the man my family had chosen for me.