Novel & Cerita Wedding Dream

On my wedding day, Yuna Shaw, the girl my parents had sponsored blocked the door to my room, just as lines of text began scrolling across my vision. [Oh my god, is the female lead really going to marry that golden heir? He’s a psychopath. He likes cutting people into pieces!] [The female lead’s such an idiot. The match Yuna arranged for her is the smarter choice.] [Switching marriages with Yuna is the only way to survive!] In my previous life, after reading those messages, I begged to call off the engagement. Yuna insisted on repaying my family’s kindness by marrying in my place. I ended up marrying the construction foreman she had chosen. After the wedding, my mother-in-law made my life miserable, and my husband abused me. I ran back to my parents for help, only to be slapped repeatedly by Yuna when she returned home. “Still think you’re some rich young lady? Running home the moment things get hard? Someone needs to knock that out of you!” Even my once-loving parents turned cold and threw me out. “You walked out that door as someone else’s wife. What happens to you now is none of our concern.” In the end, I was tortured to death by my husband. Only after I died did I realize it had all been Yuna’s scheme. Now she stood in front of me again, her eyes sharp with calculation. I shoved her aside. “You think you’re worthy of marrying in my place?”

The cocktail hour had just ended when I picked up a video call in the bridal suite. It was Ethan, three years from now. By then, time‑travel tech had matured enough to let him contact me three years into the past. After enough specific details, I finally believed it. The man on the screen really was Ethan, three years older. I rubbed my aching ankle and pouted at him through the screen. "Ethan, smiling at all these guests is exhausting. But the second I remember I actually married you today, I'm happy all over again." "We're still happy three years from now, right?" He was leaning back against a headboard, and he didn't answer. His face was flat and unreadable. Then I heard it: a woman's voice from his end, low and breathy, asking to be kissed. I froze for a second, then covered my mouth and laughed. "Is that future me? In broad daylight? Get a room." Ethan turned the camera into the bed. My maid of honor was lying there, naked, sprawled across his chest. Her body was covered in hickeys. He looked straight at me as I started to break, and his voice didn't shift at all. "As soon as the reception ended, I told you I had a client meeting. I went to her room instead." "Jo, now you know what's coming. The guests haven't gone home yet. If you want a divorce tonight, you can have one. Up to you."

When the yacht was sinking, and only one spot was left on the lifeboat, Hendrix Zuckerman chose me. I was rescued, but Yana Bridgeton didn’t make it. She couldn’t wait for the second lifeboat and drowned in the ocean, her body lost forever. Hendrix pretended not to care and went through with our wedding as planned. For five years after our marriage, he trampled me into the dirt, blaming me for Yana's death. When I couldn't take it any longer and wanted a divorce, he decided to die with me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day the yacht accident happened. This time, I’ve decided to give the chance to survive to the one he loves most.

I'd spent six months saving every penny for prenatal care, but the money vanished overnight. Panicking, I called my fiancé, only to see him on another woman's social media. The man's busy silhouette radiated excitement, with a luxury handbag sitting at the edge of the photo. The caption read: "Mr. Wellington is such a gentleman! Today's happiness starts with snagging the last designer bag at the boutique~" When I came out of surgery, my furious fiancé finally showed up. His first words were an accusation. "Can you stop treating me like I'm on a leash?" "My friend was feeling down, so I bought her a bag and kept her company. What's wrong with that? Why are you so petty!"

At our high school reunion, my ex announced he was getting married. In the middle of the congratulations, someone piped up. “Hey, where’s Wren tonight? She didn’t show?” The whole room cracked up. “Wren? Probably still earning her keep in some rich guy’s bed.” “She dumped James for money, and now look at him. He’s the wealthiest guy in New York. Bet she’s kicking herself.” Someone snickered. “I heard the guy’s some fat old man. God, how does she even stomach it.” I broke up with James Thorne the year he loved me the most, and walked straight into the arms of another man, a man with money. Now he had a new girlfriend, he’d taken over Thorne Capital, and he was one of New York’s most talked-about young executives. He’d organized this reunion because he couldn’t wait to show off how good his life had turned out. “Enough. Drop it.” In the middle of the laughter, James spoke up. “I have a better life now. Whether Wren is dead or alive has nothing to do with me anymore.” “What if she really were dead?” The room went silent.

Three years as his fiancée, reduced to nothing more than a soulless trinket. No going out. No friends. No opinions. Every breath I took was measured against Leo's mood. For three years I obeyed him unconditionally, trying to warm the heart of this mafia tyrant. Then today, in the fitting room at the atelier, his adoptive sister Alice snatched my couture wedding gown right off the rack. She didn't even have the decency to do it behind my back; she walked straight into Leo's arms while I stood there watching. Leo barely glanced at me. Just patted her head and said, “It's just a dress. Let her have it.” Three years of patience, and that's what it came to. A joke. I looked at the two of them, that smug, triumphant, and I thought: Marciano, did you really think I wouldn't fight back?

The day after we set our wedding date for the tenth time, my fiancé reached past me to kiss his adopted sister. He presented crimson roses to her as she descended from the stage. "My princess, in this lifetime, I'll only ever be your protector." I stood quietly beyond the cheering crowd, then turned and walked away without looking back. After five years of engagement, this was the moment I finally gave up hope.

For five years, I have seen Leo Belmonte—the Don’s heir—as the only light in my life. On the day of my wedding dress fitting, he smiled and told me I was only a stand-in for his untouchable first love, Mia. Now that the real thing was back, I was supposed to step aside—go underground, follow my mother's path, and be somebody's mistress like she had been. The bridal fastenings cut my palms bloody, and all he cared about was the dress. His precious Mia ran me down on the highway in her car, and he warned me not to call the police—held my mother's ashes over my head to keep me in line. When the whole internet was calling me a homewrecker, it was him who nailed me to the pillar of shame with his own hands. The night I finally gave up, I boarded the Deluca family's private helicopter. That was when they learned the truth—I was no homeless bastard daughter. I was the only heir the most powerful Don in Europe had been searching for all these years. Once, I saw him as my light. Now he kneels at my feet and begs forgiveness, and all I feel is disgust. One day soon, I would stand at the top of the underworld—somewhere he could never reach again.

After eight years of love, Liz Smith went from being the woman Zac Lincoln once saw as the love he could never forget, to someone he couldn’t wait to get rid of. She had spent three years trying to hold on, giving everything she had. But once her last bit of affection ran dry, she finally gave up and walked away. On the day they broke up, Zac sneered coldly and said, “Liz, I’ll be waiting for you to come crawling back, begging me to take you back.” But what came instead wasn’t a plea—it was news that she was getting married. Furious, he called her. “Are you done with your little game?” A deep male voice answered from the other end. “Mr. Lincoln, my fiancée is in the shower. She can’t come to the phone right now.” Zac let out a bitter laugh and hung up. He convinced himself it was just another one of Liz’s tricks—playing hard to get. It wasn’t until her wedding day, when he saw her in a white gown, holding a bouquet, walking down the aisle toward another man, that reality finally hit him. Liz had truly let him go. Like a madman, he pushed through the crowd and rushed to her. “Liz, I know I was wrong. Please don’t marry someone else. Please.” Liz lifted her dress and walked right past him. “Didn’t you say you and Xena were perfect for each other? Why are you kneeling at my wedding now, Mr. Lincoln?”

Silas Grant and I are renowned in our social circle for being a loving couple. However, a month before our wedding, he calls everything off. He wants to marry the poor student that my parents have been sponsoring. I demand an explanation. He says to me, "Vivian will have to marry that cripple if I don't marry her. You're the kindest person I know, Serena. I'm sure you can understand why I'm doing this." "Fine, then," I say. Silas leans down to kiss my cheek. He holds me happily and says, "I knew you'd agree to this. Don't worry, okay? I'll divorce her once this matter is settled." I push him away lightly and wipe his saliva from my cheek. Then, I pull out an invitation from my pocket. He takes it. His smile freezes when he sees the names on the invitation.