His Wedding, My Funeral Novels & Stories

My fiancé was sleeping with my maid of honor. I caught them the night before our wedding. I didn't make a sound. I closed the door, walked back to my bridal suite, and sat at the vanity until my hands stopped shaking. Then I grabbed my keys. At two in the morning I drove forty blocks across Manhattan and knocked on Atlas Marchetti's door. Two years ago I'd told my family I wouldn't marry him. He hadn't said a word about it since. He opened the door in pajama pants. "Marry me tomorrow," I said. He didn't say yes. He poured himself a drink first, listened to everything, and then handed me a piece of paper with terms I should have read more carefully. I signed at dawn. Six hours later I walked down the aisle Carter and I had planned. The Plaza ballroom. The dress I'd chosen in spring. Three hundred guests who came to watch me marry the wrong man. I married someone else instead. Carter watched it happen. He didn't understand yet what he'd lost, and he wouldn't understand for months. Not until he found out who owned the company he ran, and how long Atlas had been bleeding it. I went to Atlas for revenge. He'd been writing this for two years.

Agatha Ignacio, the woman who does not have her own decisions in life. Submissive to my husband, Dymon Ignacio- the man I was forced to marry, as payment for my parents' debt. No matter how hard I tried to love Dymon, I couldn't. It's hard to force love on someone who I will never like because of his bad attitude. Joseph Ignacio, the real son of Don Jose Ignacio. Grew up in another country, because his parents were separated. So when Joseph was still young his Mommy took him to New York. While Don Jose adopted so that everyone would recognize that this is his son. But Joseph's sudden arrival at the mansion. Even the Don was surprised by the son's sudden return home. Can Agatha survive the hands of her abusive husband? What if the exchange of saving Joseph is Agatha's love? How will they fight the relationship that the only one who has the right is Dymon?

After her husband broke her body. After he shattered her mind. After he stripped away every single reason she had to stay alive, she finally gave up. But death gave her a second chance. Reborn three years into the past, Celene wakes up one week before her wedding wedding to the monster who murdered her father, stole her fortune, and took her life. This time, she isn't playing the victim. To tear Daniel’s world down piece by piece, she aligns herself with the devil himself...Cole Ryder, a ruthless mafia lord who will gladly burn the earth to ashes just to see her smile. Celene has a flawless plan for total, unhinged revenge. But in all her calculations to ruin her ex-husband, there is one golden rule Celene absolutely cannot forget... ...you have to be wearing white when you GET MARRIED AT YOUR EX-HUSBAND'S FUNERAL.

Consumed by rage from her ex-husband’s betrayal, Elora weds the first psycho she meets, unknown to her that he is the most prominent business tycoon in California. However, Orson Wilson has dark secrets, including the fact that he is marrying her to save her. But from whom? What happens when Elora realizes she is in danger? When she finds out who this stranger is? When his secrets come to light.

My husband's childhood sweetheart took the Cullinan I gave him for a midnight joyride. One person ended up critically injured. He wired half a million euros from the family account to hire a fall guy, then flew her to Switzerland for a ski trip. I called him from outside the operating room, desperate. "Your father is dying. Authorize the surgery, now!" He laughed, her head on his shoulder in the video call. "Using my father's health to lie? Sofia, you've crossed a line." The line went dead. The heart monitor flatlined. Later, at his father's funeral, he raged, swearing to find the killer and make them pay. I looked at the gathered family elders, then pointed at the trembling woman behind him. "The killer is right there. The one you paid to protect."

She wasn’t his weakness. She was his ruin, and he would bring the world to its knees before he let her go. *** Kisarel thought she had it all figured out, until the night she caught her fiancé in bed with her cousin. The same cousin who was engaged to her boss, the ruthless and untouchable billionaire, Mr. Oceans Stark. Heartbroken, humiliated, and trapped on a business trip with the man her cousin was set to marry, Kisarel did the unthinkable – she begged her boss to make her forget her boyfriend's betrayal. Oceans swore he didn’t touch his employees. He swore his heart only belonged to a certain strange woman he'd been looking for, who saved his life so many years ago. But the moment Kisarel kissed him, every resolution he made shattered. And after their one sinful night together, Mr. Stark couldn't let Kisarel go. He began to do everything within his power to get her even more entangled in his web of obsession. There were a thousand reasons she should have stayed away from him. She ignored every single one. He knew every part of her belonged to someone else. But every part of him didn’t care. What neither of them knows is that Kisarel was the woman he’s been searching for all along. Now, Oceans is set to call off his wedding with Kisarel's cousin, and he expects Kisarel to also call off her wedding with her cheating fiancé. Kisarel is now tangled in an obsession so hot that it might consume her whole. And Oceans is ready to drown his entire empire just to keep the woman he truly loves.

Penelope Maxwell didn't imagine that one day she would fall in love with her best friend. The problem is that now that they have both assumed their desire, he will get married to help another woman, and Penelope needs to make an important decision, while the ghosts of her past resurface to disrupt her life.

My name is Dakota Wetherby. On the very day my husband, Theodore Aldridge, and I get legally married, he brings his ex-girlfriend, Sofia Moretti, into our home. "Sofia recently suffered a miscarriage, so she's going through a very difficult time. I'm genuinely worried about her," he says. "We're just friends. It's only natural for friends to comfort each other," he adds. Sofia is Theodore's college sweetheart. Rumor has it they separated on good terms when she went abroad for further studies. Clad in Theodore's jacket, she curls up on our bed. Her pale, ashen face is streaked with tears. "I'm so sorry, Dakota. I had no idea you two were getting married today. "I was too upset and didn't know who else to reach out to, so I called Theo. "He was only comforting me because I lost my child. It's completely my fault for overstepping and ruining your wedding day. "You can ask for whatever compensation you want. Just please don't blame Theo for this." I hold the freshly issued marriage certificate from the courthouse and walk up to her. "Since you've brought it up, I suppose I'll reluctantly accept your compensation. "Theodore and I are married for business reasons, with billions in projects hanging in the balance. "Tell me, how exactly do you plan to make up for all of that?"

My marriage to Lucian Hawke was hailed as the most perfect union in the mafia world. As the daughter of the Sinclair family and him being the sole heir of the Hawke family, our marriage united the two most powerful mafia families in the Northeastern. I thought we were unbreakable. Then, I was diagnosed with terminal cancer. As if life couldn’t get any worse, my husband's first love returned—on the very same day. That night, the man I’d been married to for years didn’t come home. The next morning, his voice was cold, distant. Indifferent. “I’ve got the divorce papers ready. When can you come sign them?” I hesitated, struggling to steady my voice. “I’m still at the hospital.” He didn’t even pause. “I don’t care if you're on your deathbed, Elara. Come home and sign the goddamn papers.” My heart shattered, but I refused to let it show. “As you wish, Lucian.” What he didn’t know was that I was dying—literally. A week later, at my funeral, Lucian wearing a tuxedo, weeping at my grave, whispering regrets he should have voiced when I was still breathing. Ironically, my funeral day, was also his wedding day with his sweetheart. But it was too late, my love. This time, you’ll never see me again.

“One day earlier or later—what’s the difference?” Henry asked calmly. It was my thirtieth birthday. The deadline of the promise he made beside my dying mother’s bed. But that day, he needed to take his pregnant sister-in-law to her prenatal appointment. “She’s carrying my late brother’s only child,” he said. “Why are you fighting her for this?” I wasn’t fighting for a date. I was fighting for the last shred of dignity in a fifteen-year love. The girl who once meant everything to him Had slowly become the unreasonable one. The sister-in-law who used to disgust him Had somehow become the one he needed to protect. So I smiled and said, “Fine.” And I left. Three days later, I turned thirty without him. That was the day Henry Jones began to regret it. Because soon he would learn— The baby wasn’t his brother’s. The betrayal didn’t start with me. And the woman he chose to hurt… was the only one who ever stood by him. But by then—I was already gone. And this time,He would be the one begging.