The Billionaire's Stolen Bride

SHE'S BURNING UP

Sebastian wasn't sure what had just happened, but his sharp eyes caught the silhouette of a man carrying a woman toward a waiting car. A strange, unsettling feeling clenched his gut. “Claire…” The name escaped from his lips before he knew it.

Was she already in trouble? Was she... dying? He hadn't anticipated danger finding her so soon. A scowl darkened his face as his emotions warred within him. Why was he even worried? He cursed inwardly, trying to shake off the irrational concern, but it clung to him like a shadow.

Then, an idea struck him. If he married her—just like his grandfather had suggested—he could ensure her safety, be by her side, and protect her from whatever dangers lurked in the dark. But no, that was absurd. He couldn't do that. Could he? His thoughts were still tangled in this internal battle when the car carrying Claire disappeared past the residence gates.

"Follow them. Now!" he ordered sharply.

"Yes, Boss!" The driver responded immediately, accelerating after the vehicle ahead.

Brad had arrived home earlier than usual from school. A strange unease settled over him as he decided to check on Claire. But when he reached her room, the maids were busy dressing her wounds. He wasn’t allowed inside while they worked, so he resigned himself to waiting.

Before he knew it, exhaustion took over, and he dozed off in a lounge chair outside her room. Brad hadn't slept long when he had a dream of Claire…dead.

He jolted awake, breathless, his heart hammering. Dread curled around him like a cold hand. It was just a dream… right? His pulse still racing, he hurried to Claire’s room. When he stepped inside, she was asleep, but something was wrong.

He reached out and touched her hand—only to recoil instantly.

She was burning up.

Panic surged through him. Claire’s skin was scorching, her fever was dangerously high. She barely stirred, completely unresponsive. Brad wasted no time. He grabbed a blanket, carefully wrapping her to avoid disturbing her injuries, and scooped her into his arms.

“Claire… wake up,” he called, his voice breaking. No response.

As he rushed through the house, he passed the dining area where Olivia sat, smoking as usual. She didn’t even glance his way, as if Claire’s suffering meant nothing to her.

Brad clenched his jaw but didn’t stop.

“Open the gates! Now!” he shouted as he approached the front entrance, his voice urgent.

The guards reacted immediately, swinging the gates open. Within moments, Brad bolted toward the waiting car, Claire still burning in his arms.

***

By the time they reached the Specialist Hospital, the staff was already on high alert. Brad had called ahead, and they had the VIP section fully prepared.

As the hospital doors flew open, a team of doctors and nurses rushed forward with a gurney.

“She’s burning up,” Brad gasped as he laid Claire down. “Help her!”

“Sir, we’ve got her,” one of the doctors assured him as they wheeled Claire away.

Brad’s fists clenched as he watched them disappear down the hall.

He could get in trouble with his mum, but he didn't care. He couldn't let Claire die just like that. All his life, he had always looked up to Claire. She was very composed and had a sense of elegance in everything she did.

One time, Brad had been bullied in school by a group of older boys. They had cornered him behind the gym, mocking him and pushing him around. Just when he thought he was alone and would get beaten, Claire arrived, stepping in without hesitation. The bullies had laughed at her, thinking she wouldn’t be a threat. But they were wrong.

Claire had rolled up her sleeves, cracked her knuckles, and in the blink of an eye, knocked the leader to the ground with a single, well-placed punch. The others tried to retaliate, but she was too fast. With swift, precise strikes, she took them all down, leaving them groaning on the floor.

She had wiped her hands, grabbed Brad’s backpack, and tossed it to him. "Next time, don't wait for me to save you," she said with a smirk before walking off like nothing had happened. From that day on, no one dared to mess with Brad.

Another time, he had failed a major exam and was too ashamed to go home. He had sat on the school steps, feeling worthless. But Claire had found him, sitting beside him quietly before pulling out a chocolate bar from her bag. "This doesn't change who you are, Brad. You're still you, and you're still amazing," she had told him. Then, she spent the next week helping him study, ensuring he passed his retake.

She had always been there for him. Many times Brad would go out to drink and get beaten, she had always been the one to bring him home. Brad wasn't ungrateful. He wouldn't forsake his sister.

Brad had always admired her and loved her as a sister. It didn't matter if she wasn't his mother's daughter that wouldn't change the way he sees her.

Brad sat in the waiting area, his fingers tapping restlessly against his knee as he awaited the doctor's report. His mind was too clouded with worry to notice the pair of icy blue eyes watching him from the corridor, their gaze sharp and unyielding.

His phone buzzed, jolting him from his thoughts. It was Cecelia.

“Brad, where are you? I heard what happened to Claire. Is she okay?”

Cecelia had been away when the incident occurred and was concerned.

Brad exhaled heavily. “I’m waiting for the doctor’s report,” he said, his tone clipped. Without another word, he ended the call.

Cecelia hesitated, debating whether to rush to the hospital. But exhaustion weighed her down—she had just returned from a trip and could barely keep her eyes open. Besides, Brad was already there. She sighed, forcing herself to stay put.