A week before the Ashfords planned to introduce me to New York society as the daughter they had lost nearly three decades earlier, Chase Langford wagered a million dollars that I was too fat to deserve their name.
Chapter 2
The Ashford gala occupied the grand ballroom of one of Manhattan’s oldest luxury hotels.
By seven-thirty, hundreds of guests had arrived. Bankers, executives, old family friends and society reporters crowded beneath crystal chandeliers while Chase broadcast the event from a stage framed in white roses.
Amber stood beside him in blush-pink couture.
I waited beyond the ballroom doors and listened.
“We gave her every opportunity,” Amber was telling the crowd. “I even tried calling her this week, but she disappeared.”
Chase raised his champagne.
“Then I think we can officially declare the bet settled.”
Laughter rippled through the room.
Someone shouted, “Where’s the missing whale?”
More laughter.
Then my father stepped onto the stage.
Richard Ashford looked exactly like the photographs in financial magazines: silver hair, perfect tuxedo, expression of permanent authority.
“Given the circumstances,” he announced, “Clarissa and I have decided tonight should become a celebration of the daughter who has remained loyal to this family.”
He took Amber’s hand.
My mother joined them.
Richard turned toward Chase.
“And perhaps another announcement is in order.”
I pushed open the ballroom doors.
The hinges gave a deep metallic groan.
Three hundred conversations stopped.
I stepped into the light wearing a midnight-blue silk gown with a clean, simple neckline and almost no jewelry. My hair fell in a glossy bob against my jaw. I had chosen elegance over spectacle because I wanted nothing competing with their recognition.
At first, no one knew who I was.
Then Amber saw me.
Her face collapsed.
She remembered the woman in the apartment lobby.
Chase stared as I crossed the ballroom.
His champagne remained halfway to his mouth.
My mother whispered, “Arya?”
I stopped at the foot of the stage.
“Did I interrupt?”
The livestream camera swung toward me.
Comments began racing across the enormous screen behind Chase.
No way.
THAT’S ARYA?
Chase lowered his glass.
“Who are you?”
I smiled.
“You’ve spent a month discussing the dimensions of my body, Chase. Surely you recognize it.”
A woman near the front gasped.
Amber stepped backward.
“No.”
I climbed the stage.
“Arya.” Clarissa’s voice suddenly became warm. “Darling.”
I ignored her.
Chase looked me up and down with an expression so shameless that my stomach turned. Four weeks earlier, he had called me an embarrassment. Now admiration spread across his face simply because my waist was smaller.
Nothing could have proved his emptiness more perfectly.
“You brought the scale?” I asked.
Amber’s eyes darted toward a floral arrangement.
Behind it sat the same glass scale from the livestream.
Of course they had brought it.
They had intended to weigh me publicly before throwing me out.
“Bring it forward,” I said.
No one moved.
I glanced toward two of Chase’s friends who had organized the betting pool.
“Unless everybody would prefer discussing the validity of those wagers with my attorneys.”
One of them went pale.
He carried the scale to center stage.
Amber shook her head. “This is ridiculous.”
“You proposed the wager.”
“It was entertainment.”
“Then entertain us.”
Her jaw tightened.
Richard stepped forward.
“That is enough, Arya. We are delighted to see you looking healthy, but there’s no need to humiliate your sister.”
I turned toward him.
“Forty-eight hours ago, you told me not to attend because I would embarrass your family.”
Richard’s face changed.
“That was a private conversation.”
“Was it less cruel because nobody else heard it?”
Whispers moved through the ballroom.
He lowered his voice.
“Do not do this.”
I looked toward Amber.
“Step on the scale.”
Trapped by her own camera, she removed her shoes.
The number settled at 98.8 pounds.
Relief flashed across her face.
She stepped down and pointed at me.
“You’re taller. There is no way you weigh less than that.”
I removed my heels.
For the first time that evening, my heart accelerated.
Not because I doubted the number.
Because I understood that once I stepped onto that scale, the relationship between us would never again be disguised by politeness.
I placed both feet on the glass.
The display blinked.
95.0.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then the room erupted.
Chase’s livestream comments moved so quickly they became almost impossible to read.
Amber stared at the number.
“No.”
She bent closer.
“No, that’s wrong.”
She stepped on the platform again, testing it.
98.8.
I stepped back on.
95.0.
Amber’s knees buckled.
Chase looked like somebody had emptied all the blood from his face.
I put my shoes back on.
“Thirty million in the betting pool,” I said. “Plus the fifty million you promised personally.”
“Arya.” Chase swallowed. “Come on.”
I tilted my head.
“You sounded much more confident last month.”
He forced a laugh.
“This whole thing got out of control.”
“Yes.”
“We were kidding.”
“You accepted legally documented wagers.”
His smile disappeared.
I continued, “You also promised half your personal holdings if I appeared looking even half as good as my voice sounded.”
Behind me, somebody laughed.
Chase stepped closer.
His entire manner transformed.
“Arya, listen. I didn’t understand what was happening. Amber showed me those awful photographs. She told me things about you. I was angry because I thought you were coming here to take advantage of the family.”
Amber stared at him.
“Chase?”
He ignored her.
“Look at you,” he said softly. “You’re incredible.”
There it was.
Exactly what I had expected.
A month of contempt erased by cheekbones.
He reached for my hand.
I moved it away.
“Our families intended us to marry anyway,” he said quickly. “That agreement was always between the Langfords and the biological Ashford daughter. That’s you.”
Amber made a strangled sound.
“You said you loved me.”
Chase barely glanced at her.
I almost felt sorry for Amber.
Almost.
“Marry you?” I asked.
“Arya, we can fix this.”
“Three weeks ago, you told millions of people that standing beside me at the altar would humiliate you.”
“I was being stupid.”
“You compared me to farm animals.”
“I didn’t mean it.”
“You joked that I would crush you on our wedding night.”
His face reddened.
I stepped closer.
“You meant every word.”
“No.”
“Yes, you did. You simply thought cruelty was safe because you believed the person receiving it had no power.”
Silence spread around us.
“You don’t love Amber,” I said. “And you certainly don’t love me. You love whatever woman makes other men envy you.”
His jaw tightened.
“That isn’t fair.”
“It’s exact.”
I turned toward the betting organizers.
“My attorneys have the escrow agreements. Every valid wager gets settled by morning.”
Chase grabbed my arm.
“Arya, no.”
I looked at his hand.
He released me instantly.
“That money is most of my liquid trust.”
“Then you shouldn’t have gambled it on somebody else’s body.”
His composure finally broke.
“My father will destroy me.”
“That sounds like a Langford family matter.”
I turned away.
Clarissa rushed toward me.
“My darling girl.”
Her arms opened.
I stepped aside before she could embrace me.
Pain flashed across her face.
“Arya.”
“Don’t.”
“But we’ve found you. We finally have you back.”
I looked at her.
“No. You found someone you wanted to display.”
