Eleanor POV
Eleanor sits in the waiting room of Peterson & Associates Law Firm and feels like she's going to throw up.
The office smells like leather and old money. Everything is white and gold and expensive in a way that makes her want to apologize just for breathing. She's worn the only nice dress she owns. It's from three years ago and doesn't fit right anymore. The woman at the front desk looked at her like she was lost when Eleanor said she had an appointment.
Maybe Eleanor is lost.
The door opens and Mr. Peterson walks out. He's older than Eleanor expected. His hair is gray and his face has lines that say he's spent a lot of time listening to people's problems. He looks kind but tired. He looks like someone who knows things. Bad things.
"Eleanor," he says, and the way he says her name makes her chest tight. Like he's known her for years. Like her name means something to him.
She follows him into his office. Floor to ceiling windows. A view of the city that costs more per month than Eleanor makes in a year. He sits across from her and folds his hands like he's about to tell her someone died.
Someone did die. Catherine.
But that's not why he asked her to come here.
"Before we start," Mr. Peterson says, "I need you to know that nothing I'm about to tell you is a scam. Everything Catherine left you is real. Everything in that letter is the truth."
Eleanor's mouth goes dry.
"You've read the letter," she says. It's not a question.
"Catherine gave me explicit instructions on what to tell you if anything happened to her," he says. "She updated her will two weeks before she passed away. She wanted you to know everything, but she also wanted a professional to explain it to you. People react better to lawyers than to dead mothers."
Eleanor wants to laugh but nothing comes out.
Mr. Peterson leans forward. "Thirty years ago, two babies were switched at a hospital in Boston. One of those babies was you. Your biological parents are Marcus and Victoria Nash. Your real name is Eleanor Nash. You are the legitimate heir to the Nash family fortune and the Nash family business interests."
Eleanor knew this already. She read it in Catherine's letter. But hearing it from someone else makes it real in a way she wasn't prepared for.
"The other baby," Mr. Peterson continues, "was an orphan named Eleanor Ashford. She was taken in by the Ashford family and raised as their daughter. She lived as Eleanor Ashford for twenty-five years."
"Past tense," Eleanor says. "Lived."
Mr. Peterson nods. "She died five years ago. Car accident. The official ruling was accidental collision during a rainstorm. But the Nash family never believed that was the truth. There were inconsistencies. Strange details. The investigation was closed too quickly."
Eleanor's stomach turns. She thinks about the death certificate she found. Eleanor Ashford. Acute blunt force trauma. Motor vehicle accident. What if it wasn't an accident? What if Catherine was right?
"What does this have to do with me?"
"Everything," Mr. Peterson says. "Because of the switch, Eleanor Ashford lived your life. She grew up wealthy. She was educated at exclusive schools. She was groomed from birth for a specific role in your family's business. And she was promised to someone."
"Promised," Eleanor repeats.
"In 1994, before you were born, your father Marcus and a man named Richard Ashford made a business arrangement. They agreed that when their children came of age, those children would marry. It was meant to merge the two family fortunes. Strengthen both companies. It was a contract signed in blood and business."
Eleanor feels the room spin.
"The contract specified a girl born to the Nash family would marry the Ashford heir. That girl was supposed to be you. Instead, it was Eleanor Ashford. She grew up thinking she would marry James Ashford as planned."
"But she died," Eleanor says.
"Yes. Which means the contract has no one to fulfill it. The Ashford family demanded a solution. The Nash family lawyers found one. The contract was written for the legitimate daughter of the Nash family. That daughter is you. The contract doesn't care which Eleanor fulfills it. Just that an Eleanor fulfills it."
Eleanor stands up. She walks to the window and looks at the city below. All those people down there living normal lives. Working normal jobs. Not about to marry strangers to seal business deals.
"I'm not doing that," she says. "I don't care what contract says what. I'm not marrying someone I've never met."
"I understand," Mr. Peterson says behind her. "And you have the right to refuse. Legally, you can walk away from this. You can let the contract lapse. You can tell the Ashford family no."
"Good."
"But if you do, the Nash family will lose approximately forty million dollars in litigation fees. The lawsuit will take five to seven years. During that time, both companies will be tied up in legal proceedings. Both companies will suffer. Your newly discovered father, who has already lost one daughter he never knew existed, will lose his company as well."
Eleanor turns around. Mr. Peterson looks like he's already swallowed poison and is waiting for her to do the same.
"That's not fair," she says.
"No," he agrees. "It's not."
Eleanor sits back down. She can't breathe right.
"Who is James Ashford?"
Mr. Peterson pulls a file from his desk. He opens it and slides a photograph across to her.
James Ashford is beautiful in the way dangerous things are beautiful. Dark hair. Sharp jaw. Eyes so blue they look cold. He's wearing a suit that costs more than everything Eleanor owns. He's standing in front of a building and he's looking at the camera like he owns it. Like he owns everything.
"James Ashford is thirty-two years old. He's the CEO of Ashford Industries. His father abandoned the family when James was eight. His mother fought to keep the company from falling apart. James took over when he was twenty-three and turned it into an empire. He's ruthless. He's brilliant. He's also alone."
"Alone," Eleanor says.
"He's never had a serious relationship. He doesn't trust people. According to sources close to the family, he's been preparing his entire life for this marriage because it was the only relationship he was ever going to have that made sense. A contract. An agreement. No emotions involved. Just business."
Eleanor looks at the photograph again. This man was expecting a different Eleanor. An Eleanor who grew up rich. An Eleanor who knew how to navigate his world. An Eleanor who was dead.
"Does he know?" Eleanor asks. "Does James know that his bride is supposed to be dead?"
Mr. Peterson's expression shifts.
"That's where things get complicated," he says.
He stands and walks to another filing cabinet. He pulls out a folder and hands it to Eleanor. Inside is a phone call transcript. The date is from four days ago. The call was between Mr. Peterson and someone named Richard Ashford, James's uncle.
Eleanor reads the transcript.
The Nash family called the Ashford family four days ago. They explained that a serious development had occurred. The real Eleanor Nash had been discovered alive. She had a legal claim to the contract marriage. The Ashford family needed to be informed before the wedding, which was scheduled for three weeks from that call date.
The response from the Ashford family was furious. Richard Ashford demanded that the Nash family send the original Eleanor, the girl James had been promised. He said James would not accept a substitute. He said the girl who was raised as Eleanor Ashford was the one the contract was written for, regardless of who she actually was.
The Nash family explained that the original Eleanor was dead.
Richard Ashford didn't care.
The last line of the transcript is the one that makes Eleanor's heart stop.
"Richard Ashford: Tell James that the Eleanor he's marrying is still coming. Tell him not to worry about changes. Some women are interchangeable. Tell him to expect her at the altar."
Eleanor closes the folder.
"James doesn't know," she says. It's not a question.
"James was not informed of your existence," Mr. Peterson says carefully. "Richard Ashford decided that telling James would complicate things. Richard Ashford appears to believe that from James's perspective, one Eleanor is the same as another. That the marriage was always going to be with a stranger regardless."
"That's insane," Eleanor breathes.
"Yes."
"So I'm supposed to walk down the aisle in three weeks and marry a man who thinks I'm someone else. A man who doesn't know I exist. A man who's probably planning to marry the girl he grew up knowing about."
"Yes."
Eleanor stands again. She walks to the door because she can't be in this office anymore. She can't sit in a chair that costs more than her apartment while someone calmly explains how her life is about to explode.
"Eleanor," Mr. Peterson says, and his voice is soft now. "Wait."
She stops but doesn't turn around.
"There's something else you need to know. Something Catherine asked me to tell you when you understood about the marriage."
Eleanor's hand is on the doorknob.
"There are people who want to hurt you," Mr. Peterson says. "There are people who know about the switch. There are people who know about the contract. There are people who know that you're worth fifty million dollars and they will do anything to control that money or destroy your claim to it. That's why Catherine took you. That's why she raised you in poverty. That's why she kept you invisible."
Eleanor turns around and looks at him.
"James Ashford is the only one who doesn't want anything from you," Mr. Peterson continues. "He's the only one who thinks you're a nobody. And that, Eleanor, might be the safest place you could possibly be right now."
Eleanor thinks about the photograph. The cold blue eyes. The dangerous beautiful face of a man who's about to marry her without knowing she exists.
"He's going to hate me when he finds out," she says.
"Yes," Mr. Peterson says. "He probably will."
Eleanor walks out of his office feeling like she's drowning. In three weeks she has to marry a man who doesn't know she's alive. She has to become someone she's not. She has to survive a world that's already decided what she should be.
And the only thing keeping her safe is that James Ashford doesn't know what she's worth.
Yet.