

Photographer Cecilia Stone is pushed by her best friend to go on a blind date, but fate has other plans—she accidentally ends up with her friend’s older brother, Yves Jensen, and they marry on a whim. By day he’s a stern CEO; by night, he’s tender. To keep their marriage, he hides his identity,sparking a hilarious, heartwarming tale of marriage first, love later.

Tina and Alan escape an orphanage as children, but years later, their reunion sparks jealousy and betrayal. As secrets unravel and hidden truths come to light, Tina confronts her past and walks away from everything she once knew. In the end, the reunited siblings stand strong, overcoming the lies and infidelity that once tore them apart, ready to face their future together.

Countess Nella is murdered by her cruel stepmother and stepsister, but the ancient Cat God Lomi awakens within her in the southern lands, granting her the power to exact revenge. On her wedding day, Nella takes her stepsister's place as the bride of Kael, the Northern Duke rumored to be a disfigured, merciless man obsessed with cats. When her stepsister springs a trap, unleashing a horde of frenzied cats, Nella effortlessly subdues them with the Cat God's divine aura, leaving Kael staring at her in astonishment from the dais. Will she claim the Duke's power to crush those who destroyed her? And how will the cold-hearted Kael treat his adorable, cat-loving bride?

My best friend, Mandy Cooper, and my boyfriend, Logan Bennett, had been at each other's throats since freshman year of college. Years ago, a careless mistake of Mandy’s indirectly led to the death of Logan’s best friend. Ever since that day, Logan made it his life's mission to wreck every ounce of happiness she ever tried to build. The day he crashed her third attempt at a wedding, I had just gotten back from studying abroad. Right in the middle of the chaos and shouting, Logan’s eyes locked onto mine from across the crowded room. It was love at first sight. Now, five years into our relationship, he was still obsessively scheming to ruin Mandy’s ninth wedding. I’ve begged him to drop it a million times, but he always shuts me down with the same stone-cold answer—"She doesn't deserve to be happy." Mandy came to my place in tears, begging for help. She planned to sneak off and throw a low-key wedding out of the country, scheduling it for the exact day Logan was supposed to fly back from his business trip. She needed me to keep tabs on him at home. "Maya, please. This guy is a total catch. He's a college guy, hot enough to be an actor, and I’m going to marry him. You have to help me keep Logan off my back." I promised her I would. To stall Logan, I blew up his phone asking when his flight was landing, but I didn't get a single reply. Then I opened Instagram and scrolled past a photo from Mandy's wedding. Standing right beside her, caught in a grainy side-profile shot, was Logan. The truth hit me like a physical punch. Five years of love, and every second of it was a sick joke. Just as my chest tightened with a numb, hollow ache, the doorbell rang. I opened the door to find a ridiculously handsome guy standing on my doorstep, dressed in a sharp tuxedo. "Hey," he said, offering a casual smile, "I’m the rent-a-groom Ms. Cooper hired. I'm here for the gig." I stared at him, and suddenly, a quiet laugh bubbled up in my chest. If Logan could turn around and tie the knot with

On the night before the wedding, my fiancé suddenly asked me to give up the ceremony for his first love, Sofia. I turned it down cold in my former life, only to become the Chicago mob’s godmother at a lavish wedding. When Sofia heard the news, she was heartbroken and jumped into the sea to take her own life. Vincent blamed me for Sofia’s death. For the next thirty years, the words he said to me most often were: “Elena, if I had married Sofia that day, she wouldn't have died.” On his deathbed, he told our children: “Don’t bury me with Elena.” The year after he died, I fell gravely ill and passed away. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the night before the wedding. Over the phone, Vincent's voice came again: "Sofia needs this title more than you do. Everyone knows I love you, so they respect you—but Sofia's different. She's just a poor orphan girl..." Before he could finish, I calmly replied, “Fine, I agree.” I turned and signed the papers to cut ties with the family. I flew to Sicily, home to the Salk Institute that I had always looked up to. In this life, I refuse to be his appendage.

After being driven out by her stepmother, Nora Seth encountered Hans Frank, the most powerful man in the capital, and they quickly got married. Due to her ordinary background, Nora faced exclusion in the high society, but she was smart and resilient, never giving up. Through her efforts, she became a top designer, embarrassing the elite ladies. What made her happier was that Hans doted on her endlessly.

Adrian Vale was the Don the whole city feared, and yet he spent three years chasing me, a girl who waited tables. Then, the night before our wedding, my best friend Nina Ashford and I were taken at the same time. With the cold muzzle of a gun against my forehead, I cried out, my voice shaking, “Let Nina go! She’s innocent!” The kidnapper laughed like I’d told a joke. “Innocent? She’s worth a hell of a lot more than you.” My whole body went rigid. The next second he leaned down to my ear, his smile pure malice. “You really think Adrian’s marrying you because he loves you?” “The day you tried on your wedding dress, he was fucking Nina on your bed.” “And that black ring, the one that stands for the Don’s power? He put it on Nina’s finger a long time ago.” I shook my head, over and over, refusing to believe it. But the kidnapper had already stopped looking at me. He dialed Adrian’s number. “Mr. Vale, you need to make a choice. Your bride, or Miss Ashford. Only one of them walks out of here alive.” “Which one do you choose?” In that instant, I forgot how to breathe. On the other end, Adrian was quiet for only a few seconds. Then he said it, perfectly calm. “Let Nina go.”

"One week before her wedding, Celia Hartwell is supposed to be applying for a marriage license with Victor Langford, her fiancé of six years. Instead, Victor drops a bombshell: he already has a legal wife. Eleven years ago, out of family duty, he and Maisie Vale registered a civil marriage. They have lived apart for years, but he never dissolved it. Victor insists Celia is the only woman he truly loves, and even suggests they hold a public wedding first without registering it. The eleven-week pregnancy test result Celia had been about to show him goes back into her bag. As Celia prepares to call off the wedding, her uncle Graham tells her that her mother, Marian, is in the late stages of cancer. The only thing keeping her going is the thought of watching her daughter walk down the aisle. Celia decides to let the wedding go on—but only as a farewell, a way to grant her mother’s last wish. On the wedding day, Maisie bursts in and faints. Victor leaves with her despite Celia’s pleas. Celia then miscarries and hemorrhages from the impact and stress. Marian, overwhelmed by the shock, goes into cardiac arrest and cannot be saved. When Celia wakes, doctors believe she may have traumatic memory loss. Everyone assumes she has forgotten the betrayal and tragedy surrounding the wedding. Victor sees it as a chance to start over. He cuts Maisie off, desperately tries to make amends to Celia, begins divorce proceedings, and—under their prenuptial agreement—rearranges the assets, trusts, and beneficiary rights he is free to control alone. Then Maisie shows up. Alone with her in the living room, Celia drops the act: she never lost her memory. Celia exploits Victor’s guilt and feeds Maisie’s fear of losing her status and security, but never directly participates in anything illegal. After Maisie exposes the scandal of Victor’s hidden legal marriage, she spirals and sabotages the brakes on his car. Celia doesn’t know exactly what she did. Victor, on a last-minute outin

My boyfriend and I had planned to fly to LA to watch our favorite MLB team play at home. But on the day we were supposed to leave, I waited at the airport for three hours. He never showed. It wasn't until after dark that he finally called. “Sorry, Audrey. I forgot to tell you. Natalie found out we were taking engagement photos and got so excited she couldn't sleep. She insisted I fly out with her early to scout locations.” “You can make it here on your own, right? The three of us will meet at the stadium entrance tomorrow.” I stood frozen. Natalie Brooks was my best friend. She had watched Derek Sinclair and me go from high school sweethearts to planning our wedding, and always called herself our biggest supporter. Yet with one casual “fly out early,” Derek had left me, his bride-to-be, behind at the airport. “You two have fun.” I smiled faintly. “I suddenly don't feel like going anymore.” The next day, I saw Natalie's latest post. She had uploaded a photo of herself with Ryan Kane, my favorite player. The caption read: “Thanks to Derek for pulling strings to get me this photo. Location scouting complete. The things I do for my best friend!” I calmly liked the post. Then I called the wedding planner and canceled the wedding we were supposed to have in two weeks. Natalie never stopped talking about how much she cared about my happiness, yet she had already taken the trip and surprise meant for me. I was done sharing this relationship with a third person.

At the party the night before our wedding, I came across a couples' challenge post online: [If I weren't an option, who would you most want to marry?] I smiled as I asked my fiance, Julian Hayes. He didn't hesitate. "Vivian." Vivian Bennett was my younger sister. My best friend chimed in. "Honestly, Vivian does understand him best. Every time you two fight, she's the one who stays up talking to Julian until dawn." Vivian reached over and gave him a playful punch on the chest. "Better keep your fiance in line, sis. Can't have him pining after me all the time." The whole table erupted in laughter. My mother, Margaret Bennett, gave an amused tsk. "It's just a joke. Besides, Vivian never complains the way you do. It's only natural that Julian likes her." Julian glanced at me. "It was just a joke. What, you can't take one again?" I didn't respond. I looked down at the confirmation form the wedding planner had just sent over. The gown, the bouquet, the music, the menu. All chosen to Vivian's taste. So this wedding, from start to finish, had only one thing that was mine: my name in the bride's place. If it didn't matter who the bride was, then there was no point in having this wedding at all.