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Mistook Dresses

Dangerous: Don't cross the line!

* At night He was rugged and untamed. That one steamy night left Grace utterly captivated. She coyly stretched out her dainty, snow-white feet, hooking them around his waist as she softly laid down her terms: For the first time, no staying overnight. The second time, the moment he got himself a significant other, she'd vanish from his side. Later on, their liaison would remain strictly on a physical level. No strings of money attached, no emotional fetters, just the most primal and unadulterated desires that flared up when night fell, entwining them like a web spun by countless spiders. And once the moment had passed, she'd straighten her skirt and turn her back on him, cold as ice. *During daytime He was the heir to a vast business empire, now impeccably dressed in a sharp suit, exuding an air of aristocratic reserve. He extended his hand to her with a polite smile, “Hello, Grace.” Grace gritted her teeth in secret dismay. She hastened to call off whatever was brewing between them, only to find herself cornered against the dressing room by the man, with no way out. In that cramped space, he was a relentless predator, and she, his irresistible quarry. His firmness pressed against her soft curves, setting every inch ablaze. Outside the door, her female colleagues were swooning over his chiseled abs. Just a thin partition away, he locked his arm around her willowy waist, seized her delicate hand, and guided it to rest on his taut abdomen, his voice dripping with a sultry allure, “Thought you could slip away? It's far too late for that.”
Katubari · 2.9K Views

Deceived by the Veil

Althea stood at the doorway of the bridal suite, her heart heavy with a weight she couldn't shake. The dress lay on the bed, pristine and untouched, a cruel reminder of everything she had lost. It wasn't supposed to be her walking down the aisle, pledging herself to a man she barely knew. But here she was, forced to step into her sister's place. Her sister's choice to leave had devastated her. She had rejected a life that demanded sacrifice and duty, choosing freedom over family. And Althea, for all her anger and confusion, was left with no choice but to save the family's reputation. She had to wear the dress, say the vows, and marry a man she didn't love. Her fingers trembled as she adjusted the veil, staring at her reflection. She looked perfect-beautiful, poised-but she didn't feel that way. She felt like a shadow, a replacement for the woman who should've been here. The weight of the gown suffocated her as she prepared to step into a life that wasn't hers to claim. She wasn't ready for this. She wasn't ready to marry him. But with every step she took toward the chapel, the reality set in. There was no turning back. And there, at the altar, stood Elijah. His eyes locked on hers as she approached, his gaze intense, unreadable. A faint smile curved his lips, one she couldn't quite decipher, but there was something in it that made her blood run cold. Satisfaction. He looked at her as if she were an object, something to be claimed. With each step, his smile deepened, pleased with what was walking toward him. He wasn't looking at her as a woman to be loved. He was looking at her as a prize, something that had finally fallen into his grasp. Althea's throat tightened. She couldn't turn back now, not with everyone watching. As she reached the altar, she realized the vows she was about to speak weren't hers to make. They had been written for her sister, and now she would speak them, to a man who had claimed her sister's life and was now claiming hers by default.
qudseesheikh · 2.8K Views
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