The bride he didn't choose

Chapter 8

The private jet sliced through the pale clouds as it descended, its shadow stretching across the vast landscape below. America welcomed them back with cold air and a sky that felt too wide—too open—as if it were waiting to expose secrets better left buried.

Elora sat still beside Windsor, her fingers tightly clasped together on her lap. From the outside, she looked composed—every inch the elegant wife of a powerful man. But inside, her thoughts were unraveling.

Beside her, Windsor reached for her hand, his touch warm, grounding. “We’re home,” he said softly, glancing at her with a smile that carried nothing but certainty.

Elora forced a smile in return.

Home.

The word felt dangerous.

The Collins estate stood tall and imposing, its gates opening slowly as the car approached. Staff lined up neatly at the entrance, their faces bright with anticipation.

“Welcome back, sir!”

“Welcome, ma’am!”

The excitement was undeniable.

But as Elora stepped out of the car, a strange chill ran down her spine.

It felt like she had just stepped into a place where she didn’t belong.

Where someone else should be standing.

The house buzzed with energy as they entered. Voices overlapped, laughter filled the halls, and footsteps echoed against marble floors.

“Elora?” Windsor’s voice pulled her back. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” she replied quickly. Too quickly. “I’m just tired.”

He studied her for a moment, as if trying to read something beneath her words, but then nodded. “Get some rest. I’ll come find you later.”

She watched him walk away, her chest tightening.

Because for the first time—

She didn’t feel safe being alone.

Inside their room, silence greeted her.

Heavy.

Unforgiving.

Elora closed the door behind her and leaned against it, her breath shaky. The walls felt like they were closing in.

Something kept telling her the person who sent kidnappers to her was someone who knew her, someone from America.

She moved further into the room, her eyes scanning every corner—until—

But the feeling remained.

A sharp knock on the door made her jump.

Relief flooded her instantly.

“Windsor?” she said, hurrying to open it.

But it wasn’t him.

A staff member stood there, head slightly bowed. “Good day, ma’am. Your husband has been called by his father.”

“Oh…” Elora forced a nod. “Thank you.”

The door closed again.

And just like that—

The silence returned.

Only now, it felt… heavier.

Downstairs, Windsor stepped into his father’s study.

The air inside was different—quieter, controlled, deliberate.

“Sit,” Mr. Collins said, his voice calm but commanding.

Windsor obeyed.

“My son,” Mr. Collins began, leaning back in his chair, his eyes sharp, observant. “Your marriage to Elora was a contract. But from what I see…” He paused. “There is more than business involved.”

Windsor exhaled lightly, reaching for the cup of coffee on the table. “Thank you, Dad,” he said, taking a sip before continuing. “Elora… she’s different.”

Mr. Collins didn’t interrupt.

Windsor smiled faintly, lost in the memory. “The day we went to the Matthew party… she ran into me. Tea spilled all over my shirt. I was annoyed.” He chuckled softly. “But then she handed me a handkerchief… so simple, yet… I couldn’t forget her.”

His expression softened.

“We got married. We started living together. And somehow…” He shook his head slightly. “I fell in love with her. I didn’t plan it. It just happened.”

A pause.

“I hope she loves me too.”

Mr. Collins hummed thoughtfully, tapping his fingers lightly against the armrest.

“Love,” he repeated slowly. “A dangerous addition to a contract.”

Windsor frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”

Instead of answering directly, Mr. Collins leaned forward. “Don’t you think we should do something for your wife?”

Windsor blinked. “Something?”

“Yes,” his father said, a faint smile forming. “Let’s make her a CEO.”

Windsor’s eyes widened in surprise. “A CEO?”

“We’ll build a boutique for her. Something grand. Something worthy of the Collins name.”

A spark of excitement lit up Windsor’s face. “That’s… that’s perfect, Dad. She’ll love it.”

Will she?

The thought flickered for just a second.

Then disappeared.

“Thank you,” Windsor said quickly, already pulling out his phone. “I’ll call the engineering crew right away.”

As he dialed, Mr. Collins watched him closely.

Too closely.

Upstairs, Elora stood frozen.

A soft laugh.

Not from the front.

Not from the back.

But from everywhere.

“You wear my name…” the voice whispered. “You sleep in my place… and now… you hold what belongs to me.”

“Who are you?!” she shouted.

The laughter stopped.

And the next words came cold.

“Someone you should have never taken her place.

Downstairs, Windsor ended the call, a satisfied smile on his face.

“It’s done,” he said. “The project starts immediately.”

Mr. Collins nodded slowly.

Upstairs, Elora stumbled back, her heart racing uncontrollably.

The voice had disappeared.

The door creaked open.

Elora was frightened.

Windsor noticed she was scared,why are you scared , Windsor asked.

She hugged Windsor as if he was her shield.

I don't feel safe anymore,Elora said as tears rolled down her cheeks.

I feel like the person who sent kidnappers to me when we were in Switzerland is from this house.

What!!

Windsor exclaimed.

From this house!

We must get to the root of this matter.