Chapter Three

Eleanor 

I always thought there was a limit to humiliation. A breaking point where the world would finally show a shred of mercy and let you crawl away to lick your wounds in peace.

I was wrong.

I stood in the corridor outside the ballroom, the last of the guests’ horrified whispers echoing behind me. My heart drummed against my ribs, wild and unsteady. The heavy doors swung shut with a muffled thud. For a few blissful seconds, silence cocooned me. I thought it was over.

Then my father stormed out, his face ashen with rage. “Eleanor.” His voice was low, controlled. That was how I knew I was in real danger, he only ever spoke softly when he was at his most furious.

I didn’t move. I couldn’t. My body was locked in place, my wedding gown suddenly feeling like a shroud.

“You are going back in there,” he said, each word clipped, “and you are going to marry Adrian.”

A laugh scraped up my throat, raw and painful. “Are you insane? Did you not watch the same video as everyone else?”

His jaw flexed. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Doesn’t?” My voice broke. “Doesn’t matter? They were screwing in our bed. On our wedding day.”

“The merger closes tonight.” His eyes, the same cold gray as my own, locked onto mine. “If you walk away, everything your mother built, everything I’ve fought for disappears.”

My chest felt too tight to breathe. “So that’s it? My dignity, my life, is worth less than a contract?”

His lip curled. “Don’t be dramatic.”

I pressed a shaking hand to my mouth. The tears I’d been holding back since this morning finally slipped free. “I can’t marry him.”

“Then Aurora will.”

I stared at him. For a moment, I thought I’d misheard. “What?”

“She’s already agreed.” He didn’t look away. “She’ll marry Adrian today. Right now.”

A fresh wave of nausea rolled through me. “You can’t be serious.”

“She is more practical than you,” he said coolly. “She understands the stakes. You’ve made it perfectly clear you have no interest in fulfilling your responsibilities to this family.”

I felt like I’d been punched in the chest. “She’s my sister.”

He lifted a brow. “And you think that means something in this world?”

The doors opened again. Aurora appeared, wearing a silk robe and a look of delicate contrition that made me want to scream. She crossed the hall to us, her bare feet silent on the marble. For a moment, I saw her as she’d been when we were little, clutching my hand as we hid under the stairs during thunderstorms. But the woman standing in front of me now was a stranger.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, her eyes wide and falsely earnest. “I never meant for this to happen.”

“You’re lying,” I whispered. My voice was so hollow it barely sounded like my own. “You’ve been sleeping with him for months.”

She didn’t deny it. “What matters now is fixing this.”

I looked between the two of them, my father and my sister and felt something inside me wither and die. “You’d really stand up there and marry him,” I said slowly, “after everything?”

Aurora tilted her head, her golden hair spilling over one shoulder. “If you’re too fragile to do what’s necessary, someone has to.”

My father exhaled, as if relieved. “There. It’s settled.”

“No,” I said, my voice rising. “It’s not settled. You’re going to stand in front of three hundred people who just watched you two.. ” My voice cracked. “watched you humiliate me. And you’re going to pretend this is normal?”

“It is normal,” he said flatly. “For people like us. Our lives are not ruled by sentiment. They’re ruled by power.”

I shook my head. “Not mine.”

“Then go,” he spat, his composure finally cracking. “Get out of my sight. But don’t expect anything from me ever again. Not a cent. Not a shred of protection.”

It was meant to frighten me. And it did. But only for a heartbeat.

Because what terrified me more was staying. Staying and pretending any of this was love or loyalty or family.

“Fine,” I whispered. My hands fell to my sides. My engagement ring glittered in the light, an obscene reminder of how blind I’d been. Slowly, deliberately, I slid it off my finger and pressed it into my father’s palm. “Here. Give it to your new daughter.”

Aurora’s eyes flickered, just for a moment. But she said nothing.

With the last of my strength, I turned away. I walked down the hall on trembling legs. Behind me, I heard my father bark orders and Aurora’s soft, satisfied reply. The doors swung shut again, cutting off the last sounds of my old life.

I found myself in the empty bridal suite, the train of my gown trailing behind me like a ghost. I stood before the mirror. The woman staring back was pale, her hair tangled, her eyes red. I looked broken.

Maybe I was.

I sank onto the edge of the dressing table, my hands clenching the polished wood so hard my knuckles turned white. My phone buzzed. Messages were pouring in already pitying texts, frantic questions, paparazzi sniffing around the perimeter. Everyone wanted to know what had happened, what would happen next.

The truth was, I didn’t know. My entire life had been planned out for me, every step measured and approved. And now I had no script, no direction. Just the hollow ache of betrayal.

I pressed my hand to my chest, feeling the ragged beat of my heart. For a moment, despair threatened to swallow me whole. Then, slowly, another thought began to bloom.

They thought I was nothing without them. They thought I’d fade away, too ashamed to ever show my face again. But maybe that was their greatest miscalculation.

Maybe they’d set me free.

I pushed myself to my feet. I wouldn’t stay here to watch Aurora take my place. I wouldn’t watch them pretend my existence had never mattered. I tore the veil from my hair, the comb snapping in my fist. The dress I’d once dreamed about felt like a cage. I unfastened the bodice, my breath coming in shallow gasps as I fought with the tiny buttons.

When I was free of it at last, I stood in my slip, my shoulders bare. The cold air raised goosebumps on my skin. But inside, something warm had started to burn.

They could have their merger. They could have their obscene spectacle. But I would have something none of them could buy or fake.

I dressed in the simplest clothes I could find, black trousers and a white blouse from my overnight bag. My hands were still shaking when I slipped my phone into my purse. I looked around the bridal suite one last time. Then I walked out.

As I passed the ballroom, I heard the music starting again. The crowd was clapping. No one followed me. No one tried to stop me.

Because in the end, I really was nothing to them.