Stolen Vows: The CEO's Lethal Guardian

"Grace, come on—have another drink. I’m so happy today."

In the luxurious bar, Grace Gardner sat hemmed in by several men. Unopened bottles crowded the table in front of her. The man beside her kept urging her to drink, holding out another glass with an eager smile. She was already quite drunk, yet he still showed no intention of stopping.

The kaleidoscopic lights pulsed across her face, making her eyes ache, while the pounding bass and the raucous laughter of the crowd hammered at her skull. Despite the opulent decor, there was no mistaking what this place was—a nightclub.

Grace had never set foot in a place like this before. She was only here because Baron Barnaby had practically dragged her along. He claimed he’d met some big-shot investor who was willing to fund his dream of studying abroad. They were supposed to meet the man here tonight, and Baron had pleaded with her to come, claiming he was too nervous to go alone.

Like Grace, Baron came from the countryside. Neither of them had parents who could afford to support them; getting into university had already been an achievement. Baron had always dreamed of studying overseas, but the cost was far beyond his family’s means. Grace was an orphan with no one to rely on, so she understood all too well how enormous that sum was. When Baron found this opportunity, he was overjoyed and asked her to help him meet the boss. She could not bring herself to refuse.

But as soon as they arrived, the so-called "boss" began relentlessly pushing drinks on her. For the sake of Baron’s future, Grace had gritted her teeth and played along. She wasn't much of a drinker; by the second glass, the world was blurry, and by the third, her stomach was in knots.

"I’m sorry... I need the restroom," Grace managed a strained smile, nodding to the boss before bolting toward the toilets.

She doubled over and retched, but the relief didn't come. Whether the alcohol was exceptionally strong or if someone had slipped something into her glass, she couldn't tell. Her limbs felt weightless, her mind a hazy fog, and the urge to simply curl up and sleep was becoming overwhelming.

"That girl’s pretty. What do you say we have some fun with her first... then kill her?"

Grace was about to step out of the stall when she heard two men whispering in the shadows near the sinks. One of them made a lewd gesture, followed by a sharp, horizontal swipe across his throat.

Hitmen. Assassins. Grace froze, her heart hammering against her ribs. She tried to ignore them, hoping to slip away unnoticed, but the next words stopped her dead.

"Yeah, what was her name? Grace Gardner, right? She’s definitely got the looks. Did you pick the spot yet? We’ll do exactly like you said."

Grace Gardner? Grace’s jaw dropped. The shock was like a physical blow. Her? It couldn't be. She was a nobody, a girl with no power and no enemies. Why would anyone want her dead?

But before she could convince herself it was a mistake, the rest of the conversation turned her blood to ice.

"The place has been arranged. Once the boss gets her drunk, we’ll take her away," the other man said. Then he added casually, "That Baron Barnaby is a real bastard. Why would he want such a beautiful girlfriend dead?"

"Who cares? A girl is just a girl. Money is what matters."

Grace stood paralyzed in the stall, her world crumbling. It was Baron. If she hadn't heard it with her own ears, she would never have believed he was capable of such a betrayal.

"Right, it’s about time. Let’s go check on them." The men’s footsteps headed toward the exit. Grace scrambled back, locking herself inside the ladies' room.

She pressed her palms to her temples, trying to force her brain to work through the fog. They’d definitely drugged the wine. She shoved her fingers down her throat, forcing herself to vomit again until her throat burned. Only then did she turn on the tap, splashing cold water on her face and rinsing her mouth. She left the water running to mask any noise as she looked for a way out.

They were on the second floor. The only window was high above the sink, a good ten meters off the ground. A jump like that would likely result in broken bones, if not death.

"What are you doing?"

Grace was halfway up the wall, trying to gauge the drop, when a waitress walked in. The woman saw Grace perched precariously and, before Grace could say a word, she spun around and began to scream.

"Someone's trying to jump! Help!"

Grace leaped down, lunging forward to catch the waitress from behind. She clamped a hand over the woman’s mouth. Fortunately, the music outside was so deafening that the scream didn't seem to travel far.

"Don't shout! Please!" Grace hissed into her ear. "There are men out there trying to kill me."

She dragged the waitress into a stall and spun a desperate, tragic tale. The woman, perhaps seeing the genuine terror in Grace's eyes, eventually went quiet, her expression softening with sympathy.

"Can you help me get out of here?" Grace asked, abandoning her pride.

The waitress hesitated, her eyes darting toward the door. She was clearly terrified of the men Grace had described.

"You don't have to do much," Grace pleaded. "Just swap clothes with me."

Working in a place like this, the waitress had likely seen her fair share of trouble. Swayed by Grace's desperation, she finally nodded.

Clad in the waitress's uniform, Grace felt a surge of renewed hope. She kept her head down and slipped out of the bathroom, aiming to disappear before Baron or his associates noticed her. If she could just reach the street, she’d be safe.

"Hey! You! Over here! Pour the boss some more wine!"

As she tried to skirt around their table, Baron’s voice cut through the air. Grace’s heart skipped a beat. If she went over there, she was finished.

Keep moving, she told herself. Act like you didn't hear him. She kept her chin tucked, quickening her pace toward the exit.

"I told you to pour some wine! Why are you running away?" Arthur Abbott barked, his voice laced with annoyance. He didn't seem to suspect her yet, thinking she was just an incompetent staff member.

But the man sitting next to him wasn't so easily fooled. He put his glass down, his eyes narrowing as he watched Grace’s retreating figure.

"Wait a second," the man said, his voice dropping into a deadly serious tone. "Doesn't that girl look a little strange to you?"

Panic flared in Grace’s chest. The disguise had failed. Without looking back, she broke into a sprint, heading for the stairs as fast as her legs would carry her.

---