HIS STOLEN BRIDE

THE ABDUCTION

The grand hall of the Ariston estate was adorned in flowers, the air thick with the scent of roses and the soft hum of wedding music. Guests murmured excitedly, waiting for the ceremony to begin. Alina Ariston stood at the end of the aisle, her heart racing, her hands gripping her bouquet of white lilies tightly. This was supposed to be the happiest day of her life. But as she stood there, dressed in an extravagant gown chosen by her family, she couldn’t shake the growing sense of dread that had been building in her chest for weeks.

Alina was about to marry Lucian Aldridge, a man her father had chosen for her. Lucian was powerful, wealthy, and handsome, the perfect political match for the Ariston family. But Alina didn’t love him. She barely knew him. Their engagement had been a calculated move to consolidate power and secure alliances, nothing more. She had been told to be grateful, that it was her duty to the family.

But as she took her first step down the aisle, her heart clenched. She was walking toward a future she didn’t want, a future built on someone else’s ambitions. Her father’s words echoed in her mind: You’re doing this for the family, Alina. This is what’s best for all of us.

Her eyes scanned the crowd, searching for any sign of comfort, but all she found were the expectant faces of politicians, business partners, and family friends. No one seemed to notice the turmoil beneath her composed exterior. Even her mother, sitting in the front row, gave her a reassuring smile, unaware of the battle raging inside her daughter.

Alina’s steps grew heavier as she approached Lucian, who waited for her at the altar with a proud smile. His gaze was possessive, as if he were already staking his claim on her. She swallowed hard, forcing herself to keep moving forward.

But before she could reach him, the large wooden doors at the back of the hall suddenly burst open with a deafening crash. Gasps filled the room as the guests turned to see a group of masked men storming into the hall. Chaos erupted in an instant.

Alina froze, her heart pounding in her chest. She watched in horror as the men advanced, their movements precise and calculated. The wedding guests screamed, scrambling to get out of the way. Her father stood from his seat, shouting commands, but the masked men ignored him.

Before Alina could process what was happening, one of the men broke from the group and headed straight for her. Her instincts screamed at her to run, but her body refused to move. In the blink of an eye, the man was standing in front of her. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and though his face was obscured by the mask, she could feel the intensity of his gaze as he looked down at her.

Without a word, he grabbed her wrist. His grip was firm, but not painful. Alina gasped, trying to pull away, but the man’s hold was unyielding.

"Let go of me!" she shouted, her voice trembling.

The man said nothing. Instead, he lifted her effortlessly into his arms, ignoring her struggles as if she weighed nothing. The world around her spun as he carried her swiftly toward the exit. She could hear her father shouting her name, the sounds of people screaming, but it all felt distant, like a dream she couldn’t wake from.

As the man carried her out of the hall and into the cold night air, Alina’s mind raced. Who were these men? Why had they attacked her wedding? And why were they taking her?

The masked man moved quickly, taking her to a black car waiting just outside the estate. He opened the door and placed her gently in the back seat before sliding in beside her. The door slammed shut, and the car sped away from the estate, leaving the chaos behind.

Alina’s heart pounded in her chest as she struggled to process what had just happened. She looked at the man beside her, her fear turning into anger.

"Who are you?" she demanded, her voice shaking. "What do you want with me?"

The man remained silent, his face still hidden behind the mask. He didn’t even glance in her direction. Frustration bubbled up inside her, and she lashed out, trying to push him away.

"Let me go!" she screamed, her fists pounding against his chest. "I said, let me go!"

Suddenly, the man’s hand shot out, grabbing both of her wrists in one swift motion. He pulled her close, his breath hot against her ear.

"Stop," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "Or I’ll make you stop."

Alina froze, her body going rigid. The cold threat in his voice sent a shiver down her spine. She stared at him, her chest rising and falling rapidly with fear and adrenaline. For a moment, the only sound in the car was the roar of the engine and the pounding of her own heart.

After a tense silence, the man released her wrists and leaned back in his seat. Alina could still feel the imprint of his grip on her skin. She glared at him, but the fire in her eyes was dampened by the fear that now gripped her.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked, her voice quieter now, laced with confusion.

The man finally turned his head slightly, just enough for her to catch a glimpse of his piercing gray eyes through the mask. His gaze was cold, calculating.

"You’ll find out soon enough," he said.

The rest of the drive passed in silence. Alina tried to make sense of what had just happened, but nothing added up. She didn’t know these men, didn’t know why they had attacked her wedding. All she knew was that she had been stolen away from her own life in the blink of an eye.

Eventually, the car pulled up to a massive, isolated mansion. The iron gates creaked open as they approached, and Alina’s stomach churned with dread. This was no ordinary abduction. Whoever these men were, they had resources and power. But why her? Why now?

The masked man opened the car door and pulled her out, his grip still firm but not harsh. He led her up the stone steps to the mansion’s entrance, where another masked figure opened the door for them.

Alina was ushered inside, her heart pounding in her chest as she took in her surroundings. The mansion was grand, but cold and unwelcoming. The air was thick with an ominous tension.

They walked down a long corridor, and the masked man stopped in front of a large wooden door. He opened it and gently pushed her inside.

"Wait here," he said, his voice brokering no argument.

Before Alina could respond, the door closed behind her with a heavy thud. She stood alone in the room, her mind racing, fear creeping in like a slow tide. She was trapped in a place she didn’t know, surrounded by people she didn’t understand, and there was no escape in sight.

The room was lavishly decorated, with dark wood furniture and heavy curtains that blocked out the night. A large bed sat in the center, but Alina couldn’t bring herself to sit down. Instead, she paced the room, her thoughts spinning.

What did they want with her? Who were these people? And most importantly, how was she going to get out of here?

She was lost in her thoughts when the door creaked open again. Alina whirled around, her heart jumping into her throat as the man from the car stepped inside. This time, however, he removed his mask.

Alina gasped.

The man was undeniably handsome, with strong, chiseled features and piercing gray eyes that seemed to see right through her. His dark hair was slightly disheveled from the mask, and a faint shadow of stubble lined his sharp jaw.

But it wasn’t his looks that made her gasp. It was the cold, hardened expression on his face—the look of a man who had seen too much, who had been through more than she could possibly imagine.

"My name is Damian Vale," the man said, his voice cold and emotionless. "And I’ve taken you for one reason, Alina Ariston."

Alina swallowed hard, her body tense as she waited for his next words.

"I’ve taken you for revenge."

---

The words hung in the air like a death sentence, and Alina’s stomach twisted in knots. Revenge? What could she possibly have to do with this man’s need for vengeance?

"I don’t understand," she said, her voice trembling. "Why me? What have I done?"

Damian’s eyes darkened, and he took a step closer to her. Alina instinctively backed away, her heart racing in her chest.

"This isn’t about what you have done," Damian said, his voice low and dangerous. "It’s about what your family has done. Your father, Maxim Ariston, has destroyed my life. And now, it’s time for him to pay the price."

Alina’s mind raced, trying to make sense of his words. Her father? This was about her father? What could he have possibly done to warrant such a reaction?