Chapter 3 - The Ghost of Victoria
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The truth could only stay buried for so long.
Nathaniel was the sole heir to Ashcroft Holdings, a conglomerate so massive its org chart required specialized software. His father, Douglas, treated the family like a board of directors. His mother, Eleanor, viewed warmth as a weakness.
And then there was Victoria Bowmont.
Victoria was the only child of Harrison Bowmont, a billionaire whose assets were deeply entangled with the Ashcrofts'. There was no written contract saying Nathaniel would marry Victoria. But the understanding was always there, hanging over his head like a guillotine.
On a Thursday evening in January, Nathaniel sat on the sagging couch in Clare’s Brooklyn sublet. The radiator ticked loudly.
"I have to tell you something," Nathaniel said, the weight of his empire pressing down on his chest.
Clare put down her pen. "You look like you're about to fire someone. What is it?"
He told her everything. The wealth. The company. His father.
Clare listened quietly. "Okay," she finally said. "I had some of it figured out. The car. The way you talk about your dad. Is there more?"
Nathaniel swallowed hard. "There's a woman. Victoria. Her family and mine... they expect us to marry."
The silence in the small apartment was deafening.
"And you?" Clare asked, her voice steady.
"I never agreed to it. But I never fought it, either."
"So, there's a woman who believes she’s going to marry you."
"I'm not going to marry her, Clare. That isn't negotiable."
Clare leaned back, wrapping her arms around herself. "Saying it to me doesn’t mean anything, Nathaniel. You have to say it to them."
"I know."
"Stop saying 'I know'," she snapped. "It makes me feel like you’re just managing me."
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Nathaniel looked at her, realizing she was the first person in his life who saw right through him.
"You're right," he said. "I'll handle it."
