Once Upon A [Stolen] Time (Stolen Series Book 1)

by Ahsan, Samreen

  Still, in 2015 there were many British families for whom the proper attire took their entire attention, even at a Sunday lunch party. The Bernards’ female guests still dressed elegantly because that’s how Mrs. Bernard wanted it. And their manor—amazing!

  Since the house was two centuries old, it stole all the prettiest elements from British, Italian, French and other European architecture. You entered the house, and you felt like you had stepped into an earlier era. Mr. Bernard’s hobby was collecting beautiful paintings from past centuries. The couple was active at art auctions and exhibitions around London. Their house was breathtakingly beautiful, and the only thing that made it worthwhile for me to meet their son Steve was to be allowed in that house. Yes, I was getting a bit greedy. I liked that house a lot.

  We reached the Bernards’ manor around 1:00 p.m. They had this huge courtyard just inside the main gate, surrounded by the circular driveway. We dropped off our car and a chauffeur collected it from the driveway and took it away somewhere. All the cars were greeted by the valet service, but I couldn’t see their parking garage.

  We were directed to the rear of the manor. It was a backyard party, but never in my life had I seen a backyard like this. Mrs. Bernard had a passion for gardening. She’d planted every pretty flower imaginable in her back garden, and it was remarkably beautiful. I remembered reading in one magazine that their garden had been named the most beautiful garden in Britain last year. I was sure she’d win again this time. It was well deserved.

  My parents had been doing business with the Bernards for five years. All Mrs. Bernard’s tea parties had been hosted by Paula’s Café, and her tea parties had always been a venue for the paparazzi, which gave my mother more business.

  “Hello…Myra, my child.” Mrs. Bernard came over to me and greeted me in a motherly manner. She hugged and kissed me like her own child. “I’m so glad you were able to join us.” I could see in her eyes that she genuinely wanted me to like her son.

  But where was he? Was my heart glinting with hope?

  “It’s good to see you too, Mrs. Bernard.” I returned her smile.

  “Oh please, call me Caroline.” She held my hands tightly. “Come…I’d like you to meet someone.” She dragged me into the crowd. My mother exchanged a glance with Caroline and it seemed like it was all planned—a typical arranged marriage.

  This was the twenty-first century, and there were still some families in England who fancied the idea of arranged marriages. Well, surely my parents did give me the option of falling for any guy I wanted—but I’d kissed a beast with true love’s kiss and he never turned into a prince. He remained a beast. The idea of a beast turning into a prince sounds quite whimsical in modern-day society. Sacrificing for true love—this concept looks bizarre to many people. Who’d want to sacrifice his life in order to gain a woman’s love? Would courtly love ever exist in this time? Besides, women these days are also not the same as they used to be—spending their entire lives pleasing their partner.

  “Steve,” Caroline Bernard called out, and a man in jeans and a white linen shirt made his way out of the crowd. Ah! Americans! They can never dress formally. The guy looked tall from a distance, and had walnut-brown hair just like his mother. As soon as he turned around, his gaze dropped on me. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other—the idea of others in the crowd looking at me and watching how Steve would react was very uncomfortable. There were my parents, the Bernard family and their friends—all eyes were on us. It seemed like Caroline had been planning this day for a long time. She was too impatient to see her son get married. But I wondered, a guy like Steve, hadn’t he been able to find a girl in the States? I was quite curious as to why the only heir of the Bernard family didn’t have a girlfriend. Or had he also fallen for the wrong woman?

  Steve walked across the lawn and came to his mother’s side. “Steve, I’d like you to meet Myra. Myra, this is my son Steve.” Caroline gestured toward us.

  “It’s always a pleasure meeting a beautiful woman.” Steve held out his hand for a handshake.

  I gave him my hand, feeling myself blush. He sounded American, but his manners were still English. “Nice to meet you too.” I smiled.

  “Steve…why don’t you take Myra and give her a tour around the manor, while I finish the arrangements for lunch.” Caroline looked at her son with hope. And Caroline knew I had seen the house already. It wasn’t the first time I had come here.

  “Mom, I just came home last night. It’s been six—”

  “Steve!” Caroline crossed her arms and passed some unspoken message to her son with her eyes.

  Steve cleared his throat. “Would you like to go for a walk, Myra?” He was back in his civil mode.

  I looked at my mother, who nodded in affirmation. “Sure.” I smiled again and tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear.

  We made our way out of the crowd, but we both kept walking slowly and quietly. It was a very uncomfortable situation for both of us. I looked back at the crowd a couple of times, only to find our mothers watching us.

  “Don’t look back,” I heard Steve say. His hands were hiding in his jeans pockets and he walked slowly. “Just keep walking.”

  I followed his instructions and we walked almost to the other side of the manor, out of sight of the party guests. He halted and turned around to look at me.

  “Wow…isn’t it too awkward?” He raked his fingers through his walnut hair.

  I sighed. “Yeah…I don’t know what I’m doing here.” I looked around to avoid meeting his eyes. It actually was very awkward.

  “Yeah…but what can we do? They are old school.” He was almost whispering. I looked up and found him smiling at me. “Let’s keep walking.” He gestured ahead of us, and we started walking on the stone path again. As far as I could see, the lawn was exquisitely manicured, adorned with beautiful flowers, garden décor and whatnot.

  A few minutes passed in awkward silence.

  “I don’t want to get married,” we said at the same time. We stopped walking, both stunned by the other person confessing the same truth. We both looked at each other for a second and burst into laughter.

  That was probably the first connection we made—as friends. Yes, I knew right away we would become very close friends.

  After our shared hysterical laughter, Steve finally spoke. “All right…you go with your story first.” He started walking again and I followed him. What would I tell him? There was no special story. I stayed quiet—not willing to spill the beans. He halted again at my silence. “Okay…I guess I jumped in too early. Friends?” He stopped and gave me his hand again, expecting a handshake. I smiled at his innocent question and shook hands with him. “Good. The closer we are to each other, the better it is for us.” His hand was still gripping mine. His blue eyes screamed that he held a dark secret, but I couldn’t tell what in this first conversation.

  The way he looked at me—it was not an intimate connection. It was more like a friend-to-friend eye contact. And honestly, I didn’t feel any sexual pull toward him either. It just felt friendly or brotherly. How bizarre was this? Our parents were thinking to bind us together in matrimony, and all I felt was that if I had a big brother, I would want someone like him.

  “Yes…friends…” I regarded our handshake with a smile.

  “So…whatever we share…it stays here?” He looked at me with hope. So he had something to share. I wasn’t wrong.

  “Yes…that’s a promise.”

  We started walking again. His hands were back in his pockets. He was not English from any angle; he was pure American—the way he walked, the way he talked, except for his manners. He probably learned those from his parents. Americans are too casual, and I could see that in his clothes. All the other men were dressed in khakis or summer dress pants; he was the only one wearing jeans. I liked his honesty. He wasn’t there to impress anyone.

  “So…what’s your story?” He looked at me, the two of us strolling on the lush green lawn. The sun was shi
ning, and it was a beautiful Sunday afternoon in mid-April.

  “Well…” I rubbed my left arm. “Assume I fell in love with a monster, but he remained a monster.”

  “Oh!” His eyes were apologetic. “I’m sorry to hear that. Did he hurt you?” I liked his concern. It was sensitive.

  “He was a douchebag. He had this habit of seducing women with his looks and then videotaping them in private. I was silly; I thought he was Prince Charming.” I looked down in embarrassment because I had been part of his scam.

  “Are you kidding me?” He looked at me with utter shock. “What a scum!”

  I nodded.

  “Do your parents know about it?” He was still concerned. That was sweet.

  “Yeah…my dad made sure to put him behind bars.” I gained my confidence back, thinking that swine was no threat now. “That’s all about me.” I shrugged my shoulders. “Now your turn!”

  He raked his fingers through his hair again. “Well…as you know…my parents are pretty old-fashioned in their thinking…so they want to choose my life partner. My choice doesn’t matter.”

  “So you like someone, and your parents don’t approve?” I asked.

  “Well…” He blushed. “It’s not like that. I haven’t told them yet. I guess they won’t like him.”

  “Him?” I halted in my tracks.

  “Uh huh!” His face was still flushed.

  “Oh…” It hadn’t occurred to me he could be gay. Wow! That was new. My parents were arranging my marriage with a homosexual, and even his parents had no idea about their son’s sexual needs.

  “His name is Tyler. We met during our degree program in Michigan.” His gaze was locked on the lush garden, but he started walking again. “We both have this ultimate craze for photography and gaming. Our interests and likes are same. It’s a strong connection.” Why was he trying to convince me?

  “Why don’t you talk to your parents then? The British government now approves gay marriage, don’t they?”

  “Yeah…I could get married in the States too…that’s not the problem.” He forced a smile.

  “What then? You’re looking for the courage to talk to them?”

  “You see that?” He stopped walking and pointed toward his manor. “That’s the Bernards’ empire. They want to see their grandchildren running around the house, playing and laughing. How do you think I’d find the courage to talk to them? How do I steal their only dream?” He looked very vulnerable to me at this moment. So that was the dark secret he wanted to share. But why me?

  “Why are you telling me all this?” I still wanted to know.

  “I don’t know,” he said instantly. “I felt this strong connection with you—it seems like we could be really good friends.”

  I thought so too.

  “So…” I started playing with my bracelet. “How are you going to move ahead?”

  “I was thinking…” He took his hands out of his pockets and placed them on my forearms. “Why don’t you take the lead?”

  “Me?” I stepped back and he dropped his hands. “What do you want from me?”

  “Reject me.” His voice was stern and honest.

  I chuckled. “Would that solve the problem, Steve?” I crossed my arms and watched him. “You think I’m the only girl in England? There are hundreds of girls to potentially be part of the Bernard family. If I reject you…your mother will just push you to another Myra.”

  He gave a discouraged sigh. I felt sorry for him. But I didn’t know how to help him. We barely knew each other.

  “So what should I do now?” His question was burning with hope.

  “I don’t know.” I shrugged my shoulders. “How can I help you?”

  “Yeah…this is weird actually.” His face was disappointed.

  “So…your mom called you here to get married?”

  “No, she didn’t call me. I came on my own. But it wasn’t for marriage.”

  “You wanted to tell them the truth?”

  “No…that wasn’t even the plan. I didn’t know till this morning what she had in mind. I woke up to the news that Myra is coming and I have to like her—no matter what—because they like Myra.”

  I laughed at his honest mocking of his parents talking about me. I knew how fond they were of me, but now I didn’t see any chance of their dream turning into reality. I hoped to God they weren’t harmed by the shock this would be to them. They were dreaming about Steve’s marriage—dreaming about grandchildren—and now their dream would be destroyed. As much as I felt sorry for Steve, I also felt sorry for them too. Almost all of London was looking for the news: who would join the Bernard family and rule this beautiful manor? I wondered why no one knew about Steve by now, since the family was so famous. I asked Steve out of curiosity.

  “So you told me you’ve been with Tyler for six years. Right?”

  “Right.”

  “Your parents have a very notable reputation here. How come no one knows about you two?”

  “Because we have kept it a secret. Even at work, no one knows that Tyler and I are going out. Because I know if the news leaked from my side—it would ruin everything.”

  “And you told me about it? You think I wouldn’t leak it?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “I’m sure you’d keep my secret as well as I keep it.” He looked at me seriously. “I’m a private man, Myra. I don’t make many friends. And when I do…I do it wholeheartedly.”

  “Thank you.” I was not sure why was I thanking him, but I felt good that he trusted me. “But what makes you think you can trust me?”

  “There’s something special about your eyes.” He was reading me. “You’re capable of holding lots of secrets.” His gaze was serious. I looked down, not giving him the chance to read me.

  “Well…then apart from not marrying each other, we have something else in common.” I ignored his comment about secrets. I continued, “I’m also very private. And besides you, I don’t have any friends either.”

  “Really?” He looked at me with surprise. “Like, no girlfriends?”

  “Nope!”

  “Wow…you’re more boring than me. I at least have Tyler.” He chuckled. We walked quietly for a while until he spoke again. “We have one more thing in common.”

  “What?” I pulled back my hair on one side. The wind was making it difficult.

  “Wanderlust!” He smiled at me.

  I looked at him quizzically.

  “You have an interest in historical places and make up stories…”

  “How do you know that?” I was stunned.

  “It’s pretty easy. You write blogs about your castle visits and…”

  “You read my blogs?” I gaped.

  “Not all of them. I just happened to know your name, so this morning I Googled some information about you and it kinda intrigued me.” His smile was holding secrets.

  “And you just said you’re gay.”

  “Yup…but you still intrigued me.” He looked at me from head to toe. “You’re a pretty girl and when I looked at your picture on Facebook…I thought you’d be perfect to play the role.”

  “Role? What role?”

  “Okay…” He stopped walking, so I did too. He turned and looked at me. “I own a gaming company and we create the ideas for games. I have to make this character—a girl who is hunting for the secrets of some haunted place.”

  I looked at him open-mouthed, so he explained further. “I own Excalibur. It’s a gaming company in California which makes fantasy fiction games for PS3, PS4 and Xbox.”

  “So that’s what you do for a living? Create games?”

  “Well, my parents have so much money that I don’t need to do anything for a living. But…” He looked toward his inherited manor house. “I wanted to chase my dreams.”

  “So that’s your dream…creating games?” I was still not buying it. What kind of work was that?

  “Yup!”

  “Nice…at least you’ve got a dream.” He was an interesting guy.
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  “Oh, you’re saying you don’t dream?”

  I pursed my lips.

  “Oh, come on, Myra. You look to me like a girl out of a fairy tale. Like you’re waiting for a prince. I saw your pictures on your blog…how much you love castles and the princes or kings that lived in them.”

  I looked at him, pale-faced.

  “And ironically, your parents think that they chose a prince for you, but I’m apparently useless.” He kept trying to read me with his gaze.

  “So, you create fantasy games,” I said, changing the subject. “Wow…I didn’t even know that was actually an industry. I don’t play videogames, so I’ve no idea how people work on them behind the scenes, but I’m sure it would be interesting. What exactly do you do, besides owning the company?”

  “My team and I are responsible for coming up with the basic idea for the games. We go out—hunt for new locations, photograph them, video them and come up with the prototype of a fantasy fiction game.” He checked my expression and realized I didn’t understand at all, so he continued. “Like if we had come up with the idea of a game that had a forest chase, I would Google the nice forests around the world until I found one that looked how I wanted, and then my team and I would film the place and we create a 3D animation based on the videos. Got it?”

  “That’s even a job? It sounds like a vacation.”

  “Yeah! I get to search out the exotic locations and supervise the photo and video shoots. The other guys on my team take those videos and use them for 3D animation. So, if I’m photographing a forest, I need to make sure I cover every element of it. Sometimes it takes months to cover something.”

  “Wow…it sounds exciting. You must be on the road all the time.”

  “Yeah, we hardly ever stay in the office. I enjoy it.”

  “And what character did you want me to play in your game?”

  “Something…like a lost princess?” He shrugged his shoulders casually. “We would use your pretty face and—”

  “Lost in a forest?”

  “No…in the castle. You’d discover the castle’s secrets room by room.” He started walking again.