Printable Wedding Vows Novels & Stories

Trapped in a loveless, tyrannical marriage to ruthless billionaire CEO Damon Cross, Emma Walker endures the whispers of admiration from outsiders, who believe she is the envy of the city. They see her glittering life—the mansions, the diamonds—but none can imagine the cruelty she suffers behind closed doors. Damon treats her as his possession, a mere maid in his palatial home, caged and stripped of dignity. Then, an unexpected event brings Jake Carter, her high school sweetheart, back into her life. Now a powerful entrepreneur, Jake is not only Damon’s business rival but Emma’s last hope for freedom. As Damon’s control tightens, Emma faces an impossible choice. Will she risk everything for a second chance at happiness, or will the chains of her marriage prove unbreakable? As Emma’s journey unfolds, she is plunged into a world of betrayal, suspense, and passion. In this high-stakes love triangle, the lines blur between true love and obsession, freedom and bondage. Can love save the day, or will Emma be bound by her vows forever?

I've protected Rachel Mead for ten years. After taking bullets three times and being paralyzed five times for her sake, she finally agrees to marry me. But on the wedding day, her assistant, Quentin Sorenson, stumbles into the church. "Rachel, my groin got bitten by a leech! Does that mean I won't be able to get it up ever again?" Rachel's expression changes drastically. She moves to ditch me and the wedding guests just so she can leave with Quentin. I stop her immediately before suggesting that we complete the wedding ceremony before seeking out a doctor to save Quentin. But Rachel responds by slapping me heavily on the face. She glares at me ferociously the whole time. "Charlie Lund, just how petty are you? Can't you tell that Quentin is in major discomfort right now? If you truly love me, you won't stop me at all!" After that, she drags Quentin into a nearby lounge. By the time I open the door, I see the naked Rachel straddling Quentin while bouncing at a regular rhythm. Their faces are already flushed with pleasure, and condoms can be seen strewn all over the floor. Rachel, who has once promised me that she'll preserve her precious virginity till our wedding night, meets my gaze nonchalantly. "Quentin is already in a serious condition. How could I just sit by and do nothing for him? Besides, isn't my hymen just a layer? Since you want to pop it that much, I can always get it fixed for you next time." I remain rooted to the spot, feeling as though my blood has turned into ice. To think that my ten-year relationship with Rachel is worth nothing at all. At that moment, I realize just how big a loser I am.

My marriage certificate with Shane Galingston was lost again. By the time we went to replace it for the ninth time, his childhood sweetheart deliberately raised her voice as she said, "Lily has been divorced eight times and has had nine abortions. She also has AIDS and syphilis… practically every vice in the book. Did you know all that?" With a loud crash, a newlywed couple sitting nearby was so startled that they fell to the floor, groaning in pain. In an instant, contemptuous and disgusted gazes poured in from all directions, pinning me in place. The icy slime of rotting refuse dripped down my face, chilling not just my skin but my heart as well. This time, I didn't hold back. I turned and walked straight toward the complaint counter. But Shane, who had stayed silent all along, suddenly grabbed my arm. He wiped the filth from my face and coaxed me in a low, gentle voice. "Don't be angry. She's just childish—she likes to fool around. She didn't mean to smear your name. "Besides, she's not targeting you. She's just throwing a tantrum at me. How could I not know what kind of person you are?" As he spoke, he shot his childhood sweetheart a helpless yet indulgent glance. "Go ahead and help us reissue—" I pushed his hand away without expression and cut him off. "No need. Let's get a divorce."

On the night before the wedding, New York was washed in cold rain. The rehearsal at St. Patrick's Cathedral had been set for seven o'clock. Under the vaulted ceiling, the white roses, black satin bows, and silver candelabras had all been arranged exactly the way I wanted. But by the time the rehearsal ended, he still hadn't shown up. At 11:17 that night, I finally got a message from him. [Sophia is pregnant. Although the baby isn’t mine, I can’t let her child be born carrying the name of an illegitimate child.] [I went to City Hall with her tonight and made it legal.] [The wedding is still happening tomorrow.] [That piece of paper is just a formality. The person standing at the altar will still be you.] [Don't let outsiders know too much. And don't ruin her reputation.] I stared at those lines for a long time. In the end, I replied with a single word. [Okay.] I don't want the wedding and you.

One night. One kiss. One viral humiliation. Livia Harper built Theo Whitford’s dying company into a billion-dollar empire while carrying his child in secret. On their second anniversary, in front of two hundred cameras, Theo introduced his college sweetheart as “the woman I’ve always loved” and kissed her like Livia never existed. Twenty-four hours later Livia is Mrs. Alexander Kane (the most ruthless billionaire in America and Theo’s oldest enemy). The contract is simple: one year of fake marriage, seventy-five million dollars, and the total annihilation of Theo Whitford’s life. Rules: No feelings. The baby stays a secret. When the year ends, she disappears forever. But contracts weren’t made for the kind of fire that ignites when the woman who has nothing left to lose marries the man who’s never lost anything. Some vows are made to be broken. Others are made to burn the world down.

During my dad's funeral procession, the hearse grinds to a halt when a wedding convoy blocks its way. I get out of my car and try to negotiate with the groom, only for him to grab a brick and smash it right into my head. "Who the hell do you think you are for blocking my way? Do you have any idea who I'm marrying?" In fact, the groom has the nerve to stomp down on the gas pedal and crash into the hearse, sending it—and my dad's body—flipping over the road. "What do you mean 'respect the dead'? As if! My wife is the chairwoman of Nexora Group! You should be honored that you get to make way for her!" But the thing is, Nexora Group is my family's company. I turn to look at the bride depicted on the wedding banner. That woman is Josephine Thornton, my wife who's supposed to be on an overseas business trip right now! So, I place a phone call and have Josephine dismissed from her job. This time, I'd like to see what Josephine and her new "husband" can do to make it up to my dad, a national hero who devoted his life to the country!

My fiancé's secretary had my wedding ring remade into a Hello Kitty trinket. When I confronted her, she twisted the truth with shameless arrogance, insisting that my wedding was hers to decide. I turned to my fiancé for support, only to have him dismiss me as petty and unworthy of being his bride. Together, they ridiculed and humiliated me, unaware that their families' power and future all depended on me. When my superior stepped in, their mockery collapsed in the face of truth. My fiancé fell to his knees, begging me to honor our engagement. But I cast him aside without hesitation, breaking off the marriage and leaving him with nothing.

Chesca Kyrene gave everything to her marriage. She loved her husband Ethan with all her heart, was a loyal, devoted wife, and built their life together from nothing. But three years into their marriage, she discovered the painful truth: Ethan was cheating on her with another woman, someone he claimed he “loved more”. Heartbroken and betrayed, Chesca chose to walk away, even though it meant losing her home, her status, and the life she had dreamed of. She started over from scratch, facing judgment from people who thought she was the one at fault, struggling to survive alone, and healing from the pain of being replaced. Just when she thought love was never meant for her, she met Damian Alistair — a serious, kind, and loyal man who showed her what real love truly is. But the struggle isn’t over. Ethan refuses to let her go, trying to manipulate her, lying to everyone to make himself look like the victim, and even begging her to come back when his relationship falls apart. Chesca now has to fight for her self-worth, learn to trust again, and choose between the man who broke her, and the man who taught her how to love herself again.  

An employee blasted me on TikTok, accusing me of not approving her wedding leave. Ainsley Castillo ranted, "Our marriage rates are low; birth rates are low. It's all because of toxic capitalists like you! You won't even approve my wedding leave. In your eyes, am I just a workhorse? Not even a person? I believed your nonsense about building an all-women company and a women-friendly workplace. Now your true bloodsucking capitalist face is showing!" The video blew up instantly, and countless young people empathized with her hardcore. They piled on online, cursing me, even doxxing me and sending razor blades. As the boss, I went live and confronted her head-on. "Sorry, but I can't approve her wedding leave. She can quit and go through labor arbitration, or sue me, but her wedding leave is out of the question." The live stream exploded in views that day. Among the supporters for her, some claimed to be lawyers, offering to sue me pro bono. But Ainsley looked troubled. "I just want my wedding leave. I never thought about quitting, let alone suing her."

I am the most secret Principessa of the Sicilian "Shepherd" Mafia. For my safety, my identity was a closely guarded secret since birth. I lived in the shadows, leaving the outside world entirely ignorant of my true standing. On my wedding day, my mafia fiancé allowed his female bodyguard to feed my family's heirloom token to his dog. He mocked me for coming from some "backwater" family, claiming I wasn't worthy to be his bride. He even threatened to wipe my family off the map.. Looking this, I simply made a single phone call. Moments later, armored vehicles crashed through the estate gates, and our family’s chief Consigliere knelt me in front of the terrified crowd:"Principessa, your father sent us to bring you home." It was only at that moment that my arrogant fiancé finally understood. The woman he had humiliated was the sole heir to the "Shepherd" family that controlled the European arms trade. But it was too late for regrets.