The Billionaire's Stolen Bride

LAST WISH

Claire was suddenly engulfed in a tight, unexpected hug. She tensed and squirmed a little, but it was no use—the older woman held her firmly, like someone embracing a long-lost loved one.

Claire's eyes darted toward Sebastian, silently begging for rescue. He, however, stood unmoved, arms crossed, with a smug glint in his ocean-blue eyes that sparkled more than ever. She considered winking at him—maybe to signal “Help!”—but stopped herself.

When the woman finally released her, Claire was already breathless.

“How do you know me?” she managed, trying to regain composure as the woman ushered them inside a warm, cozy sitting room.

“Marie, get them something to drink,” the woman, Helen called out.

“Err, no need for that, ma'am, we just—” Claire began.

“Nonsense,” Helen said with a wide, joyful smile. “Just accept it, dear. It’s the least I can do now that you’re here.”

Claire blinked, unsure what "here" meant exactly. She glanced at Sebastian again, but he wasn’t even looking at her.

Instead, his gaze was fixed on something across the room—a portrait resting on a shelf. Curious, Claire turned to look. A large, framed photo of several people stood proudly on display. Helen noticed her interest and walked over, lifting the frame carefully from its spot. She handed it to Claire.

“Take a closer look,” she said softly.

Claire did. The more she examined the faces, the more a strange familiarity washed over her. One of the women in the photo looked just like her... or rather, like what she imagined her biological mother might’ve looked like.

“I assume you already know,” Helen said gently, “that Olivia isn’t your real mother. That’s why you’re here, right?”

Claire nodded slowly, then answered, her voice barely above a whisper. “Yes. My mother’s name was Eleanor.”

Helen smiled sadly, her eyes misting over. “Eleanor was... my sister.”

Claire looked up, her throat tightening as she studied the woman sitting across from her—the woman she had just learned was her aunt. She could now hear soft, heart-wrenching sobs of the woman who had held back this truth for so long.

Finally, Claire spoke, her voice quiet but steady. “How did my mother die?”

Helen wiped at her cheeks with trembling hands, then looked up. Her eyes—red-rimmed and filled with pain—met Claire’s with a haunting depth.

“Eleanor… she was my elder sister,” Helen began, her voice cracking under the weight of memory. “She was brilliant, smart, bold, and incredibly kind. After dad died, our family’s company flourished under her leadership. She was meant to carry our legacy forward.

Helen’s breath hitched as she continued. “You were only a baby—just a month old—when the nightmare began. Our father had an affair years ago and Olivia was the result of that affair. Out of pity, and guilt, he brought her into our home. At first, she was quiet… obedient. But the moment he passed, everything changed. That woman revealed her true face.”

She paused to gather herself, her hands clenched in her lap. “Father’s will was clear: Eleanor would inherit the entire family estate and business once she got married. But Olivia wanted it all. First, she tried to steal Eleanor’s fiancé… but your mother married Richard Harry instead. That drove Olivia mad. Not long after… tragedy struck.”

Helen swallowed hard, tears spilling freely now. “Eleanor and her ex fiancé both died under mysterious circumstances. We were still grieving when news broke—Olivia had married Richard. Just like that. As if our pain meant nothing.”

Claire sat frozen, her heart pounding.

“I tried to reach you,” Helen whispered, her voice breaking. “I came to take you away, to raise you, to keep you safe. But your father… he wouldn’t even let me through the gates. I begged. I screamed. But he turned his back on me. On us. Olivia took over all that we had, while we were left with scraps. This house... it's the only thing left that she couldn't steal.”

Claire hadn’t realized she was crying until Helen reached for her hands. The touch was warm, trembling, and filled with years of regret.

“Claire… I’m so sorry. I tried. I really did. But I couldn’t save you. And I never understood why Richard betrayed Eleanor. Maybe…”

Just then, Sebastian’s voice cut through the air like a blade. “Why did Eleanor’s fiancé die?”

Helen hesitated, her brow furrowing. “ Eleanor never cut ties with him. He was too involved. He probably died trying to protect her. Eleanor was secretive… she kept so much from us, even the man she loved. I never even learned his name.”

Sebastian stiffened. A muscle in his jaw ticked. His father. The realization sank into him like poison. The man who had never stopped loving Eleanor, who had died for her—even after she married another, even after she had a child.

He rose abruptly, a burning sensation spreading across his chest. He felt suffocated. Angry. Hurt. Furious at his father’s devotion. Helen’s voice pulled them back to the moment.

“Claire,” she said softly, “you are the rightful heir. Everything Olivia has—every house, every share, every luxury—it all belonged to your mother. To our family. Olivia stole everything. But it was never hers. It was always meant for you.”

Claire’s head spun. Her vision blurred. Rightful heir? All of it… mine?

Then Helen whispered something that made the world stop.

“Before your mother died, she left a final wish. She said… she said she had wronged someone. She didn’t know how to fix it, but she hoped… that one day, her daughter would marry into the Caldwell family. It was her last wish, Claire.”

“Does this man here happen to be a Caldwell? If not… Claire, I’m sorry, but I think you should honor your mother’s last wish.”

Claire froze, her breath catching. Her fingers curled slightly at her sides.

Sebastian turned toward her, slowly, his brows drawing together. His gaze met hers, tear filled.

The room fell silent.

Helen, sensing the tension, stepped forward carefully. “I didn’t mean to put you on the spot, but this is important. Your mother was clear. She wanted you to marry a Caldwell. But I didn't know why, Claire but I think you should.”