The Designated Bride

A cold touch spread across the back of my neck. Just as I stepped out through the studio's glass door, a black cloth smelling of rust was thrown over my eyes. "Don't move." A coarse male voice whispered into my ear, dripping with menace. My heart skipped a beat. I tried to struggle, but my wrists were tightly bound with rough hemp rope. The force dragging me was strong; I staggered as they shoved me into a bumpy van. The van was thick with the smell of gasoline and cheap tobacco, making me cough uncontrollably. "Who are you?" I forced the words out, voice trembling. No one answered. Only the heavy sound of breathing mixed with the rumble of the vehicle filled the air. I had no idea how long I'd been there until the vehicle abruptly stopped, and I was dragged out once more. Beneath my feet was damp earth, the air thick with mildew—it was clear we'd reached some underground place. When the black cloth was ripped away, I squinted against the sudden light. In front of me was a dim basement; moss clung to the walls, and cluttered wooden crates were piled in the corner. A man wearing a black mask stood before me, holding a mobile phone. "Call your family. We want a ransom of ten billion." He held the mobile phone out in front of me. Ten billion. That number sent a chill through my entire body. Though the Clark Family is wealthy, they simply couldn't round up that much cash in such a short time. I clenched my fists, my fingertips whitening: "My parents might not be able to raise that much." "That's your parents' problem." The man's voice was cold and flat. "If the money isn't ready by midnight, you'd better just wait to die." He pressed the speakerphone button and dialed my mom. "Mom." I forced my voice to stay steady. "Amelia? Where are you?" My mother's anxious voice came through on the line. "I've been kidnapped. They want one billion in ransom, delivered to the designated place by midnight." I spoke quickly, and then the man hung up on me. My mobile phone was taken away, and I was tossed onto the cold floor. Fear washed over me like a tidal wave. I thought of Siegfried Lowell—the man I had loved for ten years. From the very first time I saw him on campus at fifteen, my eyes never left his form. He was the heir to the Lowell Group—handsome, radiant, like a star shining in the night sky. I never dared to approach him; I could only watch from a distance. I don't know if this time I'll ever see him again. The clock in the basement ticked away, each tick pounding against my heart. Time slipped by slowly; outside, there was utter silence. Despair was setting in—maybe my parents really couldn't raise the ransom, maybe today I'd be buried here for good. Just as I was about to break, the basement's iron gate was suddenly kicked open. Blinding light poured in, and I instinctively raised my hand to shield my eyes. A familiar silhouette stood backlit in the doorway. It was Siegfried Lowell. I was stunned. He was covered head to toe in explosives, the fuse hanging at his side, his eyes sharp as knives. "Let her go." His voice was low and commanding, carrying an authority that brooked no refusal.