KIMANI
I sat in the room waiting, already dressed in my wedding gown, a princess-style dress that my friend designed and made for me. Today was my wedding day-after four years of love, three as Jason’s girlfriend, and one as his fiancée. I was finally getting married to the man I thought was my forever. The door opened and my dad walked in, his eyes already teary. I forced myself to look away, if I cried, my makeup would be ruined, and there was no extra time to fix it. “My princess,” he said softly, stretching out his hand for me to take, “your mum would be so proud of you.” I carefully stood and placed my hand in his. “Thank you, Papa. I’m so happy.” “I’m happy for you too.” His voice cracked, and he blinked quickly, trying to hide the emotion welling in his eyes. “Are you ready?” “Yes.” I inhaled deeply, then let it out slowly. “I am.” “Before you step out, your friends want to see you. I’ll give you a moment.” He kissed my forehead and walked out, his hand lingering on the doorknob as if he didn’t want to leave me just yet. The moment the door shut, it opened again and my three best friends literally danced in, Zendaya, Malik, and Denise. “I am so proud of myself,” Malik declared, eyes shining as he spun around me dramatically, taking in the gown. “Thank you so much, Mal,” I said, smiling warmly. “Oh hush,” he scoffed with mock arrogance. “Didn’t I always say I’d design each one of your wedding dresses? Look at you, you’re glowing. This masterpiece,” he gestured to the gown, “was made for you.” Zendaya clasped her hands together, her eyes shimmering. “I swear you look like a real princess, Kimani. Jason is going to faint when he sees you walking down that aisle.” “Or cry,” Denise added, smirking. “Men love to act tough, but weddings always crack them.” We all laughed, the sound easing some of the nerves that had begun to build in my stomach. “I’m just glad today is finally here,” I admitted. “I’ve dreamed about this since Jason proposed. Everything feels… perfect.” Malik adjusted my veil carefully, making sure it fell just right over my shoulders. “It is perfect. And if anyone dares to say otherwise, they’ll have to deal with me.” We all chuckled again, but deep inside, I couldn’t shake off the tiny flutter in my chest. Nerves, excitement, and maybe… something else. I brushed it away. This was my wedding day, nothing could go wrong. After they left me. Papa came back in to get me. "It's time." he said. I nodded, taking a deep breath again. We walked out of the room and made our way to the garden where the wedding is holding. Papa’s arm was steady as he walked me down the aisle, but my legs trembled beneath my gown. The garden was breathtaking, flowers bloomed in full color, sunlight filtered through draped white fabric, and every seat was filled with family, friends, and guests. My heart raced as I caught sight of Jason at the altar, standing tall in his navy-blue tuxedo, flashing the smile that had once melted every wall I’d built. This was it. My forever. The music swelled, people stood, and I could hear little gasps and whispers-everyone’s eyes glued to me as though I were a fairy tale bride come to life. When Papa placed my hand in Jason’s, I felt a rush of relief. Jason squeezed lightly, but his eyes seemed… distracted. Almost restless. I brushed it off, convincing myself it was just nerves. The officiant began speaking, his voice warm and steady. “We are gathered here today to witness the union of Jason and Kimani…” I barely heard the rest. My mind was already writing the story of our happily-ever-after. I imagined our first dance, our honeymoon, our future. But then.. A voice rang out, cutting through the ceremony like a blade. “Stop this wedding!” A woman pushed forward from the crowd, her heels clicking furiously against the aisle runner. She was tall, confident, and familiar. My chest constricted when I realized who she was—Vanessa. Jason’s co-worker. The one he’d sworn was just a friend. Murmurs rippled through the crowd, gasps echoing as she pointed a manicured finger straight at Jason. “You’re really going to stand here and marry her after what we’ve been doing behind her back?” My heart lurched violently. “What?” I whispered, my voice cracking. Jason stiffened, his jaw tightening. “Vanessa, not here—” But before he could finish, the massive screen behind us flickered to life. Guests turned, expecting the video montage of Jason and me. Instead… The screen filled with footage. Jason. Kissing Vanessa. Jason. Walking into a hotel with her. Jason. Lying tangled with her in bed, his voice caught on audio saying things I couldn’t unhear. “You’re the only one who makes me feel alive… she’s just comfortable.” A collective gasp filled the air, louder this time, sharp and cutting. My stomach turned violently as my veil felt heavier against my skin. “Jason?” My voice broke. “Tell me this isn’t true.” He didn’t look ashamed. Not one bit. Instead, he turned to me with a scowl, as if I were the one humiliating him. “This is your fault, Kimani,” he spat, his voice venomous. “You’re clingy. You never trust me. You push me into corners until I can’t breathe. Did you think I wouldn’t find happiness elsewhere?” The ground beneath me felt like it split in two. My chest caved as tears blurred my vision. “My fault? You cheated on me, Jason!” The officiant tried to intervene, but Jason yanked his hand free from mine, stepping back. “I can’t do this,” he announced loudly, his words carrying across the stunned guests. “I won’t marry you.” Then, in front of everyone—my father, my friends, my entire world—he turned his back on me and walked away. The whispers grew into a deafening roar. “She’s been left at the altar.” “How humiliating…” “I can’t believe Jason did that—” “Poor girl…” I stood frozen, the weight of every stare crushing me. My throat burned with unshed tears, but I couldn’t even move, couldn’t even breathe. I felt few hands holding me up and I was grateful for that because I couldn't even feel my legs. "Take a deep breath darling." I heard Malik's voice. He was speaking right into my ears but I could still hear all the guests passing comments. And then, a voice cut through the quiet. Deep. Commanding. Calm, yet carrying an authority that demanded attention. “I’ll marry her.” Gasps echoed across the garden, sharper than the last. Heads whipped toward the back, where a man stood, tall and broad-shouldered, dressed in an impeccably tailored black suit. His presence alone silenced the whispers. Alaric Walker. Even I knew who he was. Everyone did. The reclusive billionaire, the untouchable head of the Walker family. The man who lived above gossip, above society itself—because who dared speak against him? My breath hitched as he walked forward, unhurried, as though this entire scandal had been orchestrated for him to step in. His dark eyes were unreadable, his jaw set with determination that brooked no argument. “Miss Kimani will not be humiliated today,” he said, his gaze sweeping across the crowd before settling on me. “If Jason is too much of a fool to see her worth, then I will claim her.” A murmur rippled through the guests. Some mouths hung open in shock, others covered in disbelief. I stood frozen, trembling, my heart racing so fast I thought it might burst. My lips parted, but no words came out. This couldn’t be real. This wasn’t happening. But then Alaric reached me, steady and sure, his hand extended toward mine. His voice softened, for me alone. “Do you trust me, Kimani?” I didn’t know him. I didn’t know why he was doing this. And yet… in that moment, with the world collapsing around me, he felt like the only solid ground left. I placed my shaking hand in his. And the whispers exploded. Even I was shocked. What the heck am I doing?KIMANI I tapped the headline and skimmed through the article. To my relief, it wasn’t as scandalous as I feared—just a glossy recap of our “grand entrance.” Still, I couldn’t help but frown. How did they already know which designer made my dress? I don't even know about that, and I'm the one wearing them. These journalists were like bees swarming around the smallest drop of honey. Relentless, buzzing, everywhere. With a sigh, I closed the article and braced myself as I opened my messages. Dozens of unread texts flashed across the screen. Me: Good morning, guys. Malik: Don’t “good morning” us. What’s been going on, Kimani? Zendaya: Spill. Now. And don’t leave out any details. Denise: Sooo… how’s the honeymoon suite oops, I mean office? (^_-) I groaned, burying my face in my hands. Me: It’s not a honeymoon. And can we not make this a big deal? Zendaya: Girl, the media already made it one. We’re just… following up. Malik: Following up? You mean interrogating he
KIMANI The first thing I noticed when I opened my eyes was silence. Not the kind of silence that feels empty or lonely, but the kind that feels intentional—like someone was waiting. And then I saw her. The maid from yesterday—Danielle—stood a few steps away from the bed, her posture perfectly composed, her hands folded in front of her. She wasn’t fidgeting. She wasn’t impatient. She was simply… waiting. For me. “Good morning, ma’am,” she said softly as soon as I stirred. For a second, I forgot how to breathe. People usually didn’t wait for me. They moved on with their lives, their priorities, their schedules. I did need anyone to wait on me like I am some 16th Century lady,or princess who does not even lift a hand for most of her life. It was overwhelming in a way I couldn’t explain. I sat up slowly, pulling the sheets around me, my throat a little tight. “You didn’t have to stand there all this time.” “It’s my duty, ma’am,” Danielle replied, her expression calm. I w
ALARIC Ever since I got married to Kimani—on impulse—I’ve been questioning myself. Impulse is not something I allow. Not in business. Not in life. My world is built on precision, calculation, control. Every move I make is deliberate, weighed for consequence. Yet at the altar, with the whole city watching, I broke my own rule. Four words. I will marry her. I hadn’t planned them. I hadn’t even considered them until I saw the betrayal unfold before my eyes—the groom’s smug cowardice, the way the crowd feasted on her humiliation like vultures. And then her. Standing there, shoulders trembling but unbroken, tears streaking her face yet refusing to crumble. Something about that sight made something in me shift. I couldn’t explain it then. I can’t explain it now. But in that moment, I acted. I stepped forward, and the words were out before I could stop them. And now, I have a wife. I’ve read the headlines already—my assistant made sure I saw them before dinner. “Billionaire
KIMANI It was already evening. I thought someone was going to bring me my meal like they did this afternoon. Instead, I got invited to the dining room. I changed into something better and followed the lady out,as we walked, I tried to make conversation. "What's your name?" I asked her. "Danielle, Mrs Walker." She replied. "Please, call me Kimani, that makes me feel like I'm some Richie rich lady." I told her. She only nodded, I hope she does. The dining room was nothing short of breathtaking. Golden chandeliers hung low, their light bouncing off polished marble floors and the glossy mahogany table that seemed to stretch endlessly. A table that could easily seat a dozen people but tonight, only two places were set. My sandals clicked softly against the floor as I made my way to the chair on the right side of the one at the head. The seat at the head was already occupied. Alaric sat there, poised, his posture relaxed but commanding. His phone was in his hand, his sharp gaze fixe
KIMANI After Alaric left, I sat frozen, staring at the door he had disappeared through. My mind spun like a broken record, replaying his words, his eyes, the finality of what had just happened. Married. To him. My wedding day turned into… this. I pressed my palms against the silky fabric of my dress, grounding myself, though my heart still raced. I didn’t know what to do, what to think, or even how to feel. A mix of betrayal, confusion, and disbelief settled in my chest like a heavy stone. A soft knock came at the door, polite, careful, almost as if whoever was outside knew I was standing at the edge of breaking. “Come in,” I said, my voice steadier than I expected. The door creaked open and a maid slipped inside. She carried a familiar travel bag, one I had used countless times when visiting my father. She set it gently on the couch and gave a slight bow before leaving without a word. I blinked at the bag. Did Alaric ask someone to collect it from my dad? That is quite thoughtf
KIMANI The garden erupted into a low hum of disbelief, like bees disturbed from their hive. “I will claim her.” Those four words seemed to echo endlessly, leaving me stunned, rooted to the spot. I blinked, convinced I had imagined them, but when I turned, there he was, Alaric Walker. The Alaric Walker. Even through the blur of my tears, I recognized him instantly. He was taller in person, his presence overwhelming. Power clung to him like a second skin, making the air around him feel charged. He wasn’t just a man-he was a storm, walking straight toward me with deliberate steps. “Do you trust me, Kimani?” His deep voice reached me again, softer this time, coaxing, as if it were just us two in the garden. I couldn’t answer. My mouth opened and closed uselessly. My chest tightened, my pulse thundering in my ears. “Kimani…” My father’s voice broke through, shaky and uncertain. I turned to see him staring at Alaric, eyes wide with shock. “Do you… know him?” I shook my hea