"Three weeks to go," Carson said, wrapping his arms around Alice from behind as she stood in front of the calendar. "Are you ready for this?"Alice leaned back into his embrace, a mix of excitement and nervousness fluttering in her stomach. "As ready as I'll ever be. Though I'm not sure I'm prepared for the whirlwind that is your mother."Carson chuckled, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Don't worry, love. I'll protect you from Hurricane Elizabeth."As if on cue, Alice's phone rang. It was Carson's mother, Elizabeth MacPherson, calling for their daily wedding planning check-in."Alice, dear!" Elizabeth's voice bubbled through the speaker. "Have you decided on the flowers yet? I was thinking roses and lilies would look lovely together."Alice shot Carson a helpless look. "Um, not yet, Mrs. MacPherson. I'm still considering our options.""Oh, please call me mother" Carson's mother insisted. "We're going to be family soon! Now, about the seating arrangements..."After a lengthy conversati
The grand Manchester Hotel's lavish suite did little to soothe Margaret's frayed nerves. She paced the plush carpet, her designer heels sinking into its softness with each step. Across the room, Maxwell sat in an armchair, his fingers steepled under his chin, a calculating gleam in his eyes."Are you certain this will work?" Margaret asked, pausing to face him.Maxwell's lips curled into a cold smile. "Trust me, my dear. I have connections that can make people disappear without a trace."Margaret's perfectly manicured nails tapped against her arm as she considered his words. "And what about Carson? He's not a fool. He'll come looking for her.""That's where your part comes in," Maxwell replied, rising from his seat. He walked to the window, gazing down at the bustling Manchester streets. "You'll need to keep him distracted. Use your history, your charms. Whatever it takes."A bitter laugh escaped Margaret's lips. "My charms? The man left me at the altar. He won't even look at me now."
The same way the Macpherson household bustled with activity, across town in a cozy apartment, another family gathered, their hearts full of excitement and a touch of nostalgia. Alice sat on the plush sofa, her son Charlie nestled in her arms, his tiny fingers playing with a lock of her hair. The living room was a picture of controlled chaos – garment bags draped over chairs, boxes of decorations stacked in corners, and the coffee table covered in swatches and magazines.Emma, Alice's younger sister, sat cross-legged on the floor, her art school portfolio spread out before her. She was sketching furiously, trying to capture the scene before her – her family, together and happy, on the eve of such a momentous occasion."Em, don't you think you should be helping instead of drawing?" Mark, their brother, called from the kitchen where he was arranging a platter of snacks.Emma rolled her eyes but didn't look up from her sketch. "This is helping. Alice will thank me later when she has a bea
"Is everything in place?" Maxwell's voice was low and tense as he spoke into his phone, his eyes scanning the busy street outside the seamstress's shop."Yes, sir," came the gruff reply. "The team is ready. We're just waiting for your signal."Maxwell's lips curled into a cold smile. "Excellent. Remember, we need this to be quick and clean. No mistakes."As he ended the call, Maxwell caught sight of a taxi pulling up to the curb. His breath caught in his throat as he watched Alice step out, her face aglow with excitement. For a moment, he felt a pang of regret, remembering the friendship they once shared. But he quickly pushed the feeling aside. If he couldn't have her, no one would.Alice paid the taxi driver and turned towards the shop, her mind filled with thoughts of lace and tulle. She was so preoccupied that she didn't notice the dark van parked across the street, or the way the men inside tensed as she approached.The bell above the door chimed cheerfully as Alice entered the s
Alice's head throbbed as she slowly regained consciousness. The room was dim, lit only by a single bulb swinging gently from the ceiling. She blinked, trying to focus her vision and remember how she had ended up here. Suddenly, the memories came rushing back - the dress fitting, the masked men, the struggle. She gasped, realizing she was still in her torn wedding dress, now dirty and wrinkled.She tried to move, but found her wrists and ankles bound to a chair. Panic rose in her chest as she looked around the unfamiliar room. It appeared to be some kind of warehouse or abandoned building, with concrete walls and a musty smell in the air."Hello?" she called out, her voice hoarse. "Is anyone there?"Silence answered her as her voice echoed. Alice fought back tears, thinking of Carson,Charlie and her family. They must be worried sick by now. She wondered how long she had been unconscious.Just then, she heard footsteps approaching. Her heart pounded, not knowing if it was a friend or f
The MacPherson mansion was a hive of activity as police officers came and went, updating the family on their search efforts. Carson sat on the couch, his head in his hands, looking completely drained. The worry and fear for Alice's safety had taken a toll on him.Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Karen, Carson's eldest sister, went to answer it. To everyone's surprise, Margaret stood at the door, her face a mask of concern."Margaret? What are you doing here in Manchester?" Karen asked, her voice tinged with suspicion.Margaret wrung her hands nervously. "I... I heard about Alice,I have been in Manchester for a business. I came to see if there was anything I could do to help."Karen hesitated for a moment before stepping aside to let her in. As Margaret entered the living room, all eyes turned to her. Carson looked up, his expression a mix of confusion and wariness."Carson," Margaret said softly, approaching him. "I'm so sorry about Alice. How are you holding up?"Carson stood up, taking
Maxwell paced back and forth in the old warehouse, looking at his watch every few minutes. Alice sat in the corner, tied up, her once-pretty wedding dress now dirty and torn. She watched Maxwell, feeling scared and sad for him, wondering how her friend had become this scary, desperate man.There was a knock at the door. Maxwell's head jerked up, his eyes wide. "Finally," he muttered, hurrying to open it.An old man in priest clothes stood there, looking nervous and confused. "Mr. Johnson? I'm Father Thomas. I got your... strange request."Maxwell pulled the priest inside, quickly closing the door. "Yes, thank you for coming, Father. Like I said, this is a special situation."Father Thomas's eyes got big when he saw the room - the dirty warehouse, the tied-up woman in a wedding dress, the jumpy man who had called him. "Young man, what's going on here?" he asked, his voice shaky."Father, please help me!" Alice cried out. "He took me. He's trying to make me marry him!"The priest steppe
A few days after Alice's rescue, the police were still working hard to understand everything that had happened. They talked to many people and looked at lots of clues. One day, a police officer came to see Alice and Carson at the hospital."Miss Smit," the officer said, "we need to talk to you about something important. We found out that someone else was involved in your kidnapping."Alice sat up in her bed, holding Carson's hand tight. "Who?" she asked.The officer looked serious. "It's Margaret, Mr. MacPherson's ex-fiancée. We have proof that she helped plan your kidnapping with Maxwell."Alice and Carson were shocked. They knew Margaret didn't like Alice, but they never thought she would do something so bad."Are you sure?" Carson asked, his voice shaky.The officer nodded. "Yes, we're sure. We found messages between her and Maxwell. She told him where to find Alice and helped him plan everything."Alice felt sick. She remembered seeing Margaret at the warehouse after her rescue. N