Wedding Dance Story

Lucia’s life was on track - a successful career, a comfortable routine, and no romantic entanglements to speak of. That is, until she met Avon in a chance encounter at the elevator. Their initial meeting was brief, but the sparks flew. Afterwards, Avon asks Lucia to be his date for his ex's wedding, and she agrees, expecting a night of polite conversation and awkward small talk. But as they attend the wedding together, they find themselves having the time of their lives. They laugh, dance, and connect on a deeper level than either of them anticipated. As the night wears on, Lucia and Avon realize that their fake date has turned into something more. But as the evening comes to a close, they must confront the reality of their lives and the fact that their relationship was never meant to be. Will they find a way to make their connection last, or will they go their separate ways, forever changed by their chance encounter?

Before my wedding, my fiance's secretary dumped out all the Dom Perignon champagne I had ordered for the guests and replaced it with Yoo-hoo. I turned grim instantly and demanded an explanation. But my fiance—who had always claimed to dote on me—stood firmly in front of his secretary to defend her. "Susie only had your best interest. Don't ruin the mood for everyone." His pack of so-called friends burst into laughter, egging him on. "Come on, don't be petty, Giselle. It's just a few bottles of Dom Perignon. Don't be so selfish." Yet their eyes were enveloped in evident malicious amusement. At that moment, one thing became certain: this fiance had to be replaced.

Since the age of 12, Aurora had known that she would be Raymond’s future Luna and wife. However, just before inheriting his Alpha position, Raymond found his fated mate—a rogue girl named Giana. Forced by his parents, Raymond had no choice but to marry Aurora. Yet on their wedding night, he abandoned her to be with Giana. Tormented by the mate bond, Aurora ended up having an ONS with a handsome and charming man. But how could that man turn out to be Raymond’s best friend, the Alpha King’s nephew, and notorious playboy—Kane…?

Hugo Laurent is determined to have me as his wife. He pursues me for a decade, resolute in winning my heart. But the night before our wedding, I overhear his conversation with his friends. "Are you going to marry Katherine just like that? What about your secret girlfriend?" Hugo is silent. Then, he says, "She's just a stand-in. She can't compare to Katherine. I'll consider keeping her by my side if she doesn't kick up a fuss. Katherine's generous—she won't mind." The following day, his secret girlfriend crashes our wedding and causes a stir. She shoves me off the stage, but Hugo darts toward her to protect her—she holds a jagged shard of glass to her neck and threatens suicide. "Are you going to choose me or her?" Hugo panics. He shoves me aside despite my injuries and snaps, "Get out of the way—I need to take her to the hospital! I'll make you pay if anything happens to her!" My heart dies in that instant. That very night, I purchase a flight ticket out of the country and leave him behind.

When Yelton Group tanked, their CEO and his wife showed up at our door, begging for a marriage alliance. My dad, thinking I was still head-over-heels for Rosie after ten freaking years, threw a million into their sinking ship and signed me up to marry Rosie. Wedding night? She blindfolded me and kept whispering how bad she wanted it. A month later, I tested positive for an STD. Then I caught her bragging to her friends. "Quinn got wrecked by, like, a dozen girls," she laughed. "Wanna guess who gave him the infection?" Her friends were cracking up. "I scouted all the grossest red-light spots," one said. "Each one's got a different flavor." "Just wait," another giggled. "When the symptoms hit hard, we'll know who wins." Rosie added, "Prize money's ready. Soon as we figure it out, she gets paid." That's when it hit me. It wasn't Rosie in bed that night—it was a lineup of strangers she set up. I lost it. Went straight to her, demanded answers. She didn't even flinch. "Mad? Please. If you hadn't dangled that million to force me into this marriage—or scared Caleb off—do you think I'd waste my time on you? "Once Caleb forgives me, you're done." I asked for a divorce. She locked me in the basement. "Chill," she said. "We're still placing bets on who gave you the STD." Six months later, I died down there. Just rotted away. Then I woke up—right back on the day her parents came begging for that deal. Only this time, on the wedding day? She was the one crying.

One month before my wedding to my boyfriend, he announced he wanted to have a child with his "first love." I refused, but he brought it up every single day. Two weeks before the ceremony, I received a prenatal checkup report. That’s when I discovered his so-called "first love" was already nearly a month pregnant. It turned out he’d never intended to seek my consent at all. In that moment, years of affection evaporated like smoke. So, I canceled the wedding, destroyed every trace of our memories, and on what should have been our wedding day, I walked into a closed-off research lab. From then on, he meant nothing to me.

Soon after I came back to the country, someone slapped me right across the face in broad daylight, yelling that I was a mistress. A crowd of reporters closed in, pelting me with questions about whether Chandler Armstrong, CEO of Armstrong Industries, was keeping me as his mistress. I was stunned speechless for a moment, but then I pulled out my wedding photo with Chandler from seven years ago and held it up. "What are you talking about? I'm his wife!" The crowd went silent, and the woman who'd slapped me turned white as a sheet. Only then did I finally get it: while I'd been overseas, Chandler had been openly involved with an actress, and everyone in his social circle had already decided she was the future Mrs. Armstrong. Today, they all came expecting to confront a mistress—only to find out that I was actually his wife. Later, Chandler tried to justify it. "Alina, you've been out of the country for years. I'm a man, and I have needs. She's just a B-list actress; it's not like she threatens your position. Why should you be upset? Just let it go," he said. "Don't make a scene." I handed him the divorce papers. "You make me sick."

At just 19, Sienna lost her parents and, as the Alpha’s daughter, was forced to inherit the pack early. But on the eve of her wedding, her fated mate—Julian—betrayed her. If she didn’t go through with the marriage, she’d lose her right to the pack’s leadership the very next day. With no other choice, she married her parents’ most trusted Gamma: Asher Blake. What she doesn’t know? Asher’s real name is Alaric Valmor—a noble Lycan prince and the true heir to the kingdom...

The wedding had reached the part where the groom kissed the bride. I closed my eyes and leaned in to kiss Stella Stafford, only to end up with a mouthful of fur. Her assistant held up the camera and burst out laughing. "The almighty Mr. Rowe can't even tell if he's kissing a person or a dog?" I stared at the Husky in front of me, its tongue lolling out, and felt my stomach churn. I was about to lay into him when Stella stepped in to block me. "It was just a joke. No hard feelings." Laurent Reilly smirked smugly, his tone dripping with arrogance. "And guess what? This Husky happens to be a female, so why don't you just marry her instead? You're not good enough for Stella anyway." The employees erupted in laughter. Mortified, I kicked him square in the chest, sending him sprawling. The next second, Stella smashed a wine bottle over my head and demanded an apology. I wiped the mix of wine and blood from my face, then dialed an overseas number with a cold grin. "The wedding is short one bride. You in?"

The day I went to try on my wedding suit, a stranger stormed into the VIP fitting room and drove a knife into my gut. "Sleeping with my woman, and you dare wear a suit this expensive?" He ripped my shirt into ribbons with a wild grin and threw sulfuric acid straight at me. The knife was buried deep in my abdomen. Pain ripped through me as I collapsed. He yanked my hair, forcing my head up. "Susan Lefebvre is my wife. What the hell are you? Just some filthy side piece hiding in the shadows!" Blood dripped from my fingertips as the truth sank in. The fiancée I'd loved for seven years had been cheating on me all along. "What are you staring at?" He sneered. "Even if I kill you, no one can touch me. My wife runs this city!" Watching that arrogant face twist in triumph, I took out my phone with a trembling, blood-soaked hand and dialed my sister. "Allison," I said, my voice cold and calm. "Come pick me up at the bridal salon. And tell the Lefebvres that the engagement is off."