STOLEN BY THE BILLIONAIRE

Chapter1: The wrong groom

Chapter One: The Wrong Groom

Amara Okafor was supposed to marry the love of her life today.

Instead, she was staring at his uncle.

The church in Lekki was full. White flowers everywhere. Her white lace dress cost her mother's entire savings. And at the altar, where Daniel Adeyemi should have been standing with his boyish smile, stood a man who looked like Daniel carved from stone — older, taller, colder.

Oliver Adeyemi. 38. Billionaire. Daniel's uncle and guardian since Daniel's parents died.

"Where is Daniel?" Amara whispered, her bouquet shaking.

Oliver didn't smile. "He's not coming."

The pastor cleared his throat. The guests murmured. Amara's mother stood up from the front row, face pale.

"He left for London this morning," Oliver said, his voice low enough for only her to hear. "With my company's money. Two hundred million naira. And with your maid of honor, Jessica."

Amara's heart stopped. "You're lying."

Oliver slid his phone toward her. On the screen was a photo at Murtala Muhammed Airport: Daniel kissing Jessica, both holding first-class tickets. Timestamp: 6:42 AM today.

Her knees buckled. Oliver caught her elbow — his grip firm, warm, nothing like Daniel's soft hands.

"Why are you telling me this?" she breathed.

"Because my nephew has disgraced my family name," he said. "The Adeyemis do not abandon brides at the altar. The press is outside. The investors are inside. If this wedding fails, our stock crashes on Monday."

"So you will marry me instead."

Amara laughed — a broken, hysterical sound. "Are you mad?"

"I'm offering you a choice," Oliver said calmly. "Walk out that door humiliated, explain to your mother why the money for this wedding is gone, and let Daniel ruin you. Or marry me, right now, and I will give your family five hundred million naira. Your mother keeps her house. You keep your dignity."

"One year. A contract marriage. After that, you're free, with your money. I get to save my company."

Amara looked at the photo again. Daniel smiling. Jessica wearing her honeymoon dress. Something inside her snapped.

She turned to the pastor, tears burning her eyes but voice steady. "Pastor... change the name. The groom is Oliver Adeyemi."

A gasp rippled through the church.

"Dearly beloved," the pastor stammered, "we are gathered here to join Oliver and Amara..."

As they exchanged vows she'd memorized for another man, Amara felt Oliver's thumb brush over her knuckles.

"You'll regret this," she whispered as he slipped the ring — his grandmother's emerald — onto her finger.

"No," Oliver murmured, lifting her veil. "I think I just made the best business decision of my life."

He kissed her. It was supposed to be for the cameras. So why did her toes curl?

Outside, the cameras went wild.

Inside, as they walked down the aisle as husband and wife, Oliver whispered, "Rule one: Don't fall in love with me, Amara. I'm not Daniel. I don't do love."

Amara squeezed his hand so hard her nails dug in. "Don't worry, husband. I don't do betrayal twice."

But when their car pulled away from the church, and she finally let herself cry, Oliver silently handed her his handkerchief — and didn't let go of her hand for the entire ride.