HIS STOLEN BRIDE

HIS STOLEN

*Title: His Stolen Bride*

*Chapter 1: The Offer and The Accident*

The air in the Morris mansion smelled of polished wood and expensive coffee. It was too clean, too quiet. The kind of quiet that made your own heartbeat sound loud.

I sat on the edge of the leather chair, hands clasped tight in my lap so they wouldn’t shake. The chair was probably worth more than my dad’s old generator.

“My name is Jenny,” I said, forcing my voice to stay steady. “I’m a student at Alara Morris Institution of Learning, and I’m an only child.”

The words felt strange out loud. I’d practiced them in the mirror that morning, but now, under Mrs. Morris’s cool gaze, they sounded small.

“My mum died giving birth to me,” I continued. “And my dad never remarried.”

Mrs. Morris didn’t look up from her tablet. She tapped a pen against it, once, twice. “Go on.”

Her indifference stung, but I couldn’t stop now. I’d come too far.

“Dad raised me alone. He worked two jobs most of my life so I never lacked anything. School fees, textbooks, even the uniform for the debate team. He said education was the one thing nobody could take from me.”

A lump formed in my throat. Dad had said that the night he came home with the retrenchment letter in his hand.

“He used to be a busy man,” I said quietly. “But not anymore. Dad lost his job a few months ago. The company downsized. He’s been sending out applications every day, but… nothing yet.”

I swallowed hard. “I couldn’t just sit at home and watch him struggle. So I started looking for something I could do after school. Something to help with rent. With food. With his medication.”

That was why I was here. Why I’d worn my only clean blouse and borrowed shoes that pinched my toes. Why I’d walked forty minutes to save on transport.

That’s why I was sitting in this mansion, telling my life story to a woman who hadn’t made eye contact once.

Mrs. Morris finally set the tablet down. She studied me like I was a problem to be solved.

“Alright, Jenny,” she said. “Molly needs a nanny. Someone responsible. Someone who won’t spoil her.” Her eyes flicked to me, sharp and assessing. “My son Alex and I trust you. If you treat Molly well, I’ll pay your school fees and give you ten thousand dollars every month.”

Ten thousand dollars.

The number hit me like a splash of cold water. My breath caught. That was more than Dad made in a year before he lost his job. More than I’d ever imagined having in my hands.

“Ten thousand dollars?” I blurted out before I could stop myself.

Mrs. Morris raised an eyebrow. “Too much… or too little?”

I scrambled to compose myself. “No, ma’am! I mean—” I forced a small, polite smile. “It’s perfect. Thank you, ma’am. I won’t disappoint you.”

She nodded, already reaching for her phone. “Good. You start tomorrow. Alex will show you around. Don’t be late.”

And just like that, my life changed.

---

Three days later, I was still getting used to the size of the house. It had three staircases. Three. Our entire apartment could fit in the living room alone.

I’d settled into a routine: wake at 5 AM, get Molly ready, take her to the kindergarten by 7:30, come back, clean, study in the small room they’d given me, wait for Alex to come home.

Alex. Mrs. Morris’s son.

He was polite enough when we crossed paths, but distant. Always on his phone, always in a rush. He never looked at me the way Mrs. Morris did—like I was something to be evaluated. He barely looked at me at all.

That afternoon, I was in the kitchen, arranging the fruit for Molly’s snack, when the sound of engines rumbled outside.

Three cars pulled up in quick succession. I recognized them from the day I’d been interviewed. Carl, Meyer, and Theo. Alex’s friends, or business partners. I wasn’t sure which.

Moments later, raised voices echoed from the study.

I froze.

“Hey man,” Alex’s voice came through, tight and controlled. He must have just walked in.

I heard footsteps, then the sound of the study door closing. But not before I caught fragments: “…unfinished discussion… two days ago… Molly and Theo’s house…”

Curiosity warred with caution. I told myself to go back to the fruit. It wasn’t my business.

But then Alex’s voice rose, sharp and final: “Look man, I’m not who you used to know. That soft-hearted Alex is dead. I am done begging you.”

The door slammed.

My heart was still pounding when I turned, tray of wine and glasses in hand, and stepped out into the hallway.

Big mistake.

Alex came around the corner fast, his jaw clenched, eyes dark. I tried to step aside, but my foot caught on the edge of the runner rug.

The tray tipped.

Time seemed to slow.

“Watch out!” I gasped.

Glass and wine crashed to the floor. Red spread across the white marble like a wound. And I was going down with it.

Strong hands caught my waist before I hit the ground.

Lucky enough, he’d timed it right.

“Are you okay?” Alex asked, his voice low, breath warm against my ear. His hands were still on me, steadying me.

For a second, I forgot how to breathe.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, pulling away too fast. My face burned. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Alex. I’ll clean it up right away.”

I knelt, ignoring the sting of glass against my palm.

Footsteps echoed down the stairs.

“What’s going on here?” Mrs. Morris’s voice cut through the air, sharp with disapproval.

I froze. I could see fear written all over my face. This was it. I was going to be fired on day three.

“Mum, it was just an accident,” Alex said smoothly, stepping between me and his mother. “I bumped into her while walking down the stairs.”

I stared at him. He was lying. For me.

Mrs. Morris looked between us, her expression unreadable. Finally, she sighed.

“You should have been more careful, both of you. I’m off to work. Make sure that Molly is well taken care of, Jenny. Take her to the kindergarten before going to school.”

And just like that, she left.

Silence fell.

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. My hands shook as I gathered the larger pieces of glass.

* Jenny’s POV *

I breathed a sigh of relief—I was very scared. But wait… why was Alex defending me?

He didn’t owe me anything. We barely spoke. And yet he’d lied to his mother to protect me.

I looked up to say ‘thank you,’ but the smile on his face stopped me cold. It wasn’t kind. It wasn’t reassuring. It was something else. Something I couldn’t name.

Gosh! I had to clean up this mess.

I forced myself to stand, grabbed a packer, and got to work. My hands trembled the entire time.

After I finished, I fed Molly, walked her to school, and tried to push the morning out of my mind. It didn’t work.

On my way home, my phone buzzed.

Unknown number.

Then: _Come see me immediately._

Alex.

My stomach twisted. What could the problem be? I’d cleaned everything. Molly was safe. Had I done something wrong?

I took a deep breath and walked to his study.

“I’m here, sir,” I said, standing in the doorway.

Alex was slumped in his chair, a glass of amber liquid in his hand. His tie was loose, his shirt collar open. He looked up at me, and his eyes were bloodshot.

“Where have you been?” he asked, his voice rough. “I searched the whole house and didn’t see you.”

“I took Molly to school, sir,” I replied, keeping my voice even.

He took another sip and immediately started coughing, hard, choking on the alcohol.

Instinct took over. I rushed forward, loosening his tie and unbuttoning the top two buttons of his shirt.

“Easy,” I murmured. “Breathe.”

He grabbed my wrist, his grip too tight. His breathing was uneven, and his eyes had that distant, unfocused look.

“Sit down, sir,” I said softly, pulling a chair closer. “Let me get you some water.”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he pulled me forward by the sleeve, his grip tighter than usual. My heart raced. This wasn’t the calm Alex I’d seen earlier.

“Alex, please,” I whispered. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

For a moment, something flickered in his eyes—recognition, maybe regret. His hand loosened.

He let go abruptly and leaned back, dragging a hand down his face.

“Get out,” he muttered. “Before I do something I’ll regret.”

The words hit me harder than the grip had.

I hesitated, unsure whether to stay or leave. Part of me wanted to argue, to ask what was wrong. But the sharpness in his voice made my choice for me. I backed away, bowing my head.

“Yes, sir.”

As I reached the door, his voice stopped me.

“Jenny.”

I turned.

“Don’t tell anyone about this. Not my mother. Not Molly.”

“Understood,” I said quietly.

I closed the door behind me, my hands shaking.

The hallway felt too quiet again.

Whatever was happening with Alex, it was bigger than a bad day with alcohol. I’d seen the way his friends talked to him earlier. I’d heard the bitterness in his voice.

And somehow, on my third day as a nanny, I’d gotten pulled into the middle of it.

---

*Chapter 2: Falling in the Dark*

The next two weeks passed in a blur of tension and stolen glances.

Alex stopped drinking. He started coming home early. He started talking to me.

Not about work. Not about Molly. About me.

“Why do you always stay up after everyone sleeps?” he asked one night, finding me in the library with my textbooks.

“Because it’s the only time it’s quiet,” I admitted.

He nodded, like that made sense to him.

Slowly, the distance between us closed. A touch here. A conversation that ran too late. A look that lasted too long.

When he kissed me for the first time, it wasn’t gentle. It was desperate, like he’d been holding it back for weeks.

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispered against my lips. “But I’m not letting you go.”

I didn’t argue. I didn’t want him to let go.

A month later, I was late.

Two weeks late.

I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the two lines on the pregnancy test, my hands shaking.

Alex was going to be a father.

I wanted to tell him. I wanted to run to him and see his face light up. But fear held me back. What if he didn’t want this? What if this was the thing that made him push me away?

I decided to wait. One more week. One more week to be sure.

That week never came.

---

*Chapter 3: The Break*

It started with a fight.

Theo came to the house uninvited, his face dark with rage.

“You think you can take everything from me?” he spat at Alex. “You think she’s different?”

Alex stepped between us before I could answer. “Get out of my house, Theo.”

Theo laughed, low and dangerous. “She’s not yours, Alex. She never was.”

His eyes flicked to me, and I saw it then—the hatred. The obsession.

Before I could move, he grabbed my arm and dragged me out.

Alex came after us.

I heard the sound of fists hitting flesh, of grunts and curses. I screamed for them to stop, but no one listened.

When it ended, Theo was on the ground, bleeding from his lip. Alex stood over him, breathing hard, his knuckles split.

“Listen to me,” Alex said, his voice low, lethal. “Jenny is my woman. You touch her again, and I’ll end you. I’ve buried three women because of you, Theo. I won’t bury a fourth.”

Theo spat blood onto the ground and smiled. “We’ll see.”

---

*Chapter 4: The Abduction*

Two days later, Hetty pulled me aside after class.

“Jenny, we need to talk. It’s about Theo—”

She never finished the sentence.

Her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed against me.

I screamed for help. Someone called an ambulance.

At the hospital, the doctor looked at me over his glasses.

“Miss Jenny, you’re pregnant. About six weeks along. You need to reduce your stress. Your blood pressure is too high.”

The words barely registered. Pregnant. I was pregnant.

Hetty had been eavesdropping. I saw it in her eyes when she came back to the room.

On the ride home, she gripped my hand. “Jenny, tell me what’s going on.”

I swallowed hard. “Alex is my boyfriend. And I think Theo is going to kill him.”

“What?”

“I have to go back to Theo,” I said, my voice shaking. “If I don’t, he’ll kill Alex.”

As soon as I stepped out of the car, Hetty pulled out her phone.

I didn’t see who she called.

I didn’t know that she was telling Alex I was pregnant.

I didn’t know that they were already planning how to get me out.

---

*Chapter 5: The Plan*

Carl’s birthday party was in three days.

“Theo will be there,” Hetty said quietly. “He’ll bring you to show off. It’s the perfect opportunity.”

I nodded, my stomach in knots.

The days leading up to the party were hell.

Theo kept me locked in his penthouse. He beat me when I spoke out of turn. He beat me when I was silent. He beat me to avenge every punch Alex had landed on him.

My body was a map of bruises.

On the day of the party, Hetty spilled wine on my dress on purpose.

“You need to change,” she whispered, eyes wide with panic. “Go to the restroom. I’ll give you five minutes.”

I nodded and hurried away.

I was washing my hands when I saw him in the mirror.

Alex.

Before I could speak, he was behind me. A napkin covered my nose.

The last thing I heard was his voice, low and broken.

“I’m sorry, Jenny. I’m so sorry.”

---

*Chapter 6: The Hideout*

I woke up in a soft bed, in a room I didn’t recognize.

Alex sat across from me on the couch, his face lined with exhaustion.

“How are you feeling?” he asked quietly.

“Where am I?”

“My bungalow. No one knows about this place. It’s safe.”

He hesitated, then asked the question I’d been dreading.

“Are you pregnant?”

I nodded, tears filling my eyes.

“Is it mine?”

“Yes.”

Relief washed over his face, followed by rage.

“Theo lied to me. He said he’d slept with you. He said you didn’t care about me.”

He stood and crossed the room in two strides, kneeling beside the bed.

“I’m going to get us out of this country, Jenny. I’m getting our visas ready. No one will find us here.”

For the first time in weeks, I felt safe.

It didn’t last.

---

*Chapter 7: The Truth Spills*

Hetty didn’t last long under Theo’s hands.

He took her to an abandoned warehouse and tied her to a chair.

“Where is she?” he asked, holding a live wire in his hand.

Hetty shook her head, tears streaming down her face.

Theo didn’t hesitate.

Electricity surged through her body. She screamed.

“Stop! Stop!” she cried. “Alex’s bungalow! Off Rosehill Lane!”

Theo dropped the wire and walked out, a cold smile on his face.

He knew where we were.

---

*Chapter 8: The Shot*

It was 2 a.m. when the door came down.

Theo stepped inside, gun in hand.

Alex was on his feet instantly, standing in front of me.

“You,” Theo said, raising the gun.

He fired.

Alex staggered back, clutching his shoulder. Blood seeped through his fingers.

“Get up,” Theo said coldly. “We’re leaving.”

Jenny screamed as Theo dragged her toward the door.

“Alex!”

Alex tried to stand, his face pale, blood dripping onto the floor. “Don’t you touch her!” he roared, but his voice was weak.

Theo’s only response was a smirk. He hauled Jenny out, slamming the door behind them.

The house fell silent.

Ten minutes later, Meyer burst through the door, phone still in hand, Alex’s tracker pinging on the screen.

“Alex! Stay with me, man!”

Meyer didn’t waste time. He scooped Alex up, ignoring the blood soaking his own shirt, and ran to the car.

At the hospital, the doctors moved fast. Bullets out, bleeding stopped, but Alex remained unconscious for hours.

When he finally opened his eyes, the first word out of his mouth was her name.

“Jenny.”

Meyer sat beside him, face grim. “She’s gone, Alex. Theo took her. But I swear to you—I’ll help you get her back.”

Alex closed his eyes, pain flashing across his face. Not just from the wounds.

“Not if I get to him first,” he whispered.