There are bad wedding days — and then there's getting kidnapped in a thirty pound lace dress, right infront of EVERYONE, in broad daylight.
Seriously, who does that? I mean..sure. I've always imagined my wedding being unforgettable but I was thinking champagne and cake, Not duct tape and panic.
It's not like I wanted this wedding. Let's get that straight. The whole thing was arranged faster than you can say and not once anyone ask me what I thought. I'm nineteen. NINETEEN! I should be at college not being married off to some crusty sixty-year-old "buisnessman" who smells like old cigars and desperation. My mother said he was "influential" and "financially secure" I said he was creepy. Guess whose opinion didn't matter?
Now I'm in the back of a speeding van, dress bunched up around my knees, wrist zip tied like some cheap action movie extra.
The thought triggered a flashback, just moments ago,
I was pretending to smile for the camera, forcing joy into my bones. The next-BOOM-a bench shattered through the glass and everything spiraled into chaos.
Dozens of men in black suits and obsidian masks flooded the venue. They moved like smoke – fast, ruthless, silent. Screams echoed.
But I couldn't move.
Two of them seized me before I could even think, dragging me toward the back — as they pulled me away, I caught a glimpse of one of them approaching my father. I couldn't hear much, but his voice cut through the noise like a blade.
" The boss is angry. You should have. known better Mr Ashbourne."
A bump in the road jerked me back to the current situation. My veil stuck in my mouth and honestly, I'm more annoyed than scared.
Though, trust me-the fears definitely there too.
I didn't know where they were talking me,but I wasn't going down quietly.
"Let me go! " I shouted, twistingin my restraints."You've no idea who my father is! "
One of the man snorted from the front. " we know exactly who he is, princess."
"I swear to God, if he finds out—"
A rough laugh cut through the dark. " He already knows"
I froze.
The four words hit harder than any punch.
I knew he knows but still I was hoping for the best. Hoping threatening them will work.
So far...it Didn't.
My breath quickened. " you can't do this. There were cameras,witnesses..."
"They're wired, silent." the driver laughed darkly. "we paid them."
I kicked at the sidewall, desperation and fury mixing. " You Bastards are making a mistake."
"Maybe" the one in the passenger seat replied calmly, "but it's not our mistake. It's his."
I went still.
My fingers curled into fists.
My father's enemies weren't thugs. They were something else. Something bigger. Organized. Prepared.
I sniffed again, testing the rope. It was tight,but if I could just loosen it—
Suddenly the van stopped with a jolt.
Doors slammed. Boots approached.
My breath hitched.
This was it...