The Forced Bride of Cole Ashford

CHAPTER FOUR

“Cheer up, wife. It’s not like you can leave even if you wanted to. Your father signed a contract, and I’m the only one who can decide when this marriage ends.”

The words hadn’t stopped echoing.

Not after the ceremony while she forced smiles for a billion photographs. Not since she had been at the reception. Not even as she tried to breathe.

Her father had signed a contract. She couldn’t leave. Only Cole could end the marriage.

The ballroom looked like something out of a dream. Crystal chandeliers shimmered above, casting warm golden light over everything. Tables draped in ivory linens stretched across the room, each one adorned with overflowing floral centerpieces—roses, hydrangeas, and lilies in a cascade of soft purples and whites. Champagne flowed. A string quartet played something light and romantic in the corner, while servers in black and white weaved smoothly between the guests, balancing silver trays.

Everyone looked happy.

Except her.

Kendra sat stiffly at the main table beside a man she didn’t want to call her husband. Her dress still itched, the veil had tugged out a few strands of her hair, and the weight of the ring on her finger felt like shackles. And to make matters worse, every other second someone approached her to say congratulations.

She couldn’t breathe in this room.

Everything inside her buzzed—too bright, too loud, too false.

Cole had barely looked at her since he’d crushed her heart with one whisper and given her the fake peck in church.

Her ears buzzed, not from champagne, but from the rising irritation in her chest. None of her parent were in sight. It was all a sea of strangers, and to make matters worse, Cole stood up and left her at their table. She didn't know the man too well, or even like him, but he was the most familiar face around her at the time, so his absence struck her.

Like a fish out of water, she sat at the table, staring into the crowd. The Ashfords had invited the who's who in the whole city. She knew of most of these people, but had successfully avoided them for all her life. Not anymore.

Jason approached from the side of the dance floor, hands shoved awkwardly into his pockets.

Kendra stood before he reached her. “Did Dad sign a contract?”

Jason froze. “What?”

She stepped forward, the words rising like fire in her throat. “Answer the damn question, Jason. Did Dad sign a contract?”

His expression crumpled. “Kenny, I—I-I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” She laughed, sharp and bitter. “You’re sorry?”

He reached for her hand. She stepped back.

“Kenny—please. You have to understand why he did it. When the Ashfords realized Ruby had run off, they were going to pull out. The only way Dad could convince them was if he signed the contract.”

“And I’m just—what? A blank cheque? A bargaining chip?” Her voice cracked. “You all just passed me around like I don’t get a say?”

Jason dropped his eyes. “He didn’t want to lose everything.”

Kendra shook her head slowly. “And the best plan was what, sign my life away? Jason, do you realize that I don't get a say when this marriage ends? I cannot leave tomorrow, in six months, or five years. I can't, not unless he says so.”

Jason’s eyes shifted, glancing at the floor. “I’m sorry. It’s just, Dad is in a bad place—”

“Oh, save it.” She snapped at him. “Do you even realize he hasn’t spoken to me since we left the church? Not once. Just passed me off like a chore completed.”

Jason looked helpless. “You know how Dad is.”

“Yeah,” she muttered. “I’m starting to.”

He offered his hand again, softer now. “Dance with me?”

Her gaze dragged from his fingers to his face. “I can’t. I need to get out of here. I want to go home.”

Jason hesitated, then nodded, stuffing his hand back into his pocket. “I’ll get Cole.”

“No.” Her voice was firm. “I’ll do it.”

She stepped down from the main table platform, bunching her dress in her fists as she pushed past the happy guests, the floating laughter, the clinking glasses. It was as if the whole room existed in a separate world, one where this marriage meant something, where she had walked down the aisle smiling instead of silently screaming.

She spotted a familiar figure near the entrance to the lounge—the tall, elegant woman in a pale lavender dress, a warm smile on her lips. Savannah Ashford.

Kendra tried to walk past her, but Savannah’s hand reached out, gently catching her arm.

“Hey, hey,” she said softly. “Where are you in such a hurry to?”

Kendra blinked up, startled. “Oh, sorry. I was looking for Cole.”

Savannah’s face twisted in a wry smile. “He did something already? That’s a record. Even for him.”

Kendra snorted. The laugh escaped before she could stop it. “No. I just… need to leave.”

Savannah’s eyes flicked briefly to Kendra’s face, searching. Then as though she saw more than Kendra wanted to show, her expression sobered. She gave Kendra’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Oh dear. How are you feeling?”

It was the first time anyone had asked.

That simple kindness nearly broke her. Kendra blinked hard, willing the tears not to fall. “I’m okay.”

“No, you’re not.” Savannah rubbed slow, soothing circles into the back of her hand. “But you will be.”

Kendra swallowed thickly. “Thank you.”

Savannah’s eyes crinkled. “Call me Savannah. We haven’t officially met, but we’ll fix that soon. Dinner next week, okay?”

Kendra nodded. “Okay.”

“Good.” She patted her arm. “Now go on. Find your grumpy husband.”

She found Cole at the bar with his half-brother, Nathan, sleeves rolled and collar loosened. Cole had shed his jacket and was nursing a glass of something dark. He looked up when she reached him.

“I want to leave,” she said quietly.

His expression didn’t shift. “Fine. I’ll have the driver take you home.”

Nathan rolled his eyes. “Take her yourself.”

“What?”

“Don’t be a jackass, Cole. Take her.”

The brothers stared at each other for a long moment, something unspoken passing between them. Finally, Cole sighed and tossed back the rest of his drink. “Come on.”

They exited through the back of the hall, avoiding the guests. The night air wrapped around her like a balm. For the first time all day, she felt like she could breathe.

Cole’s Aston Martin was in the lot. He took the keys from a waiting valet. He didn’t open the door for her. She didn’t wait for him to.

She slid in, closed the door, and rested her head against the cool glass as he started the engine and pulled onto the road.

Silence stretched between them.

It was a Thursday night. If things had gone differently, she would’ve been soaking in a warm bath right now, listening to music, maybe re-reading one of her favorite novels. Her skin would smell of jasmine, her phone would be buzzing with texts from Sierra, and she’d be planning what pastries to pick up in the morning on her way to work.

Instead, she was in a stranger’s car. A stranger who now had legal claim to her.

A tear slipped down her cheek. She didn’t bother wiping it right away.

Cole glanced over. “Are you crying?”

She didn’t answer. She didn’t have the energy.

He clicked his tongue. “You’ll wash my car if you get snot on the seats.”

Kendra didn’t flinch. His voice rolled off her like dust.

Another tear rolled down.

How was she supposed to live with him?

How was she supposed to function in a home that wasn’t hers, with a man she didn’t trust?

She sniffled softly, her fingers finding the necklace around her neck.

She felt Cole’s eyes on her for another second, but he didn’t speak again for the rest of the drive.

When they finally pulled up to the estate, iron gates rolled open to reveal a massive, modern mansion bathed in soft gold lighting. A fountain in the courtyard murmured gently. A tall man in uniform stood by the door, waiting.

Cole pulled into the driveway, turned off the engine, and looked at her.

His voice was quiet. Tired. Cold. “Clean your face. I don’t want my staff getting the wrong idea.”

She wiped her cheeks dry, her face blank.

Silently, Kendra followed him into the building.

The tall man held the door open for them and slightly bowed his head when they walked through.

Inside, the house smelled like leather, polished wood, and the faintest trace of expensive cologne lingering in the air. Everything was immaculate. The marble floors gleamed beneath her feet, catching the soft glow of recessed lighting. A sweeping staircase curved grandly to the left, its bannister a dark mahogany that matched the wainscoting lining the walls.

The air felt too still.

Kendra swallowed. She didn't belong there.

Without a word, Cole climbed the stairs, leaving her behind.

She watched his figure until it disappeared around the corner up the stairs.

The tall man joined her side. “Can I show you to your room, Mrs. Ashford?”