Chapter 5 — Ashley’s Price
Chapter 5 — Ashley’s Price
I read the final sentence of my mother's letter three times.
The person who planned your marriage was someone you have trusted all your life.
My fingers tightened around the phone.
For four years, I had believed Dwight was the center of the betrayal.
Then I discovered Jared.
Then Susan.
Then Martin.
Now my mother was telling me that the person who had started everything was someone I trusted.
My mind immediately went to Ashley.
But Ashley was already sitting across from me.
She was pale, trembling, and crying.
“You know something,” I said.
She shook her head.
“Elizabeth, I swear—”
“You knew about my inheritance before Dwight did.”
Her lips parted.
I stood.
“You knew about the Carter shares.”
“I didn't know how much they were worth.”
“But you knew they existed.”
“Yes.”
“Who told you?”
She looked away.
“Ashley.”
“I can't.”
“You can.”
“No, I can't.”
I stepped closer.
“You betrayed me for money. You helped my husband deceive me. You stood beside me while I married him. You knew what they were planning.”
“I didn't know everything.”
“Then tell me what you knew.”
She wiped her tears.
“Jared hired me eight months before your wedding.”
“I know.”
“He told me Dwight needed help.”
“Help doing what?”
“Getting you to trust him.”
I stared at her.
“That's all?”
“At first.”
“And then?”
Ashley swallowed.
“Then Martin became involved.”
The room went silent.
The First Payment
Ashley pulled out her phone.
“I kept everything.”
She opened her banking application.
Hundreds of transactions appeared.
Payments from Anderson Family Holdings.
She turned the screen toward me.
“That's what they paid me.”
I looked at the numbers.
$2,000.
$3,500.
$5,000.
$8,000.
Then one payment caught my attention.
$15,000 — RELATIONSHIP SUPPORT.
I looked at Ashley.
“What does that mean?”
“It was after you and Dwight got engaged.”
“And why did they pay you $15,000?”
“Because I convinced you to trust him.”
My stomach twisted.
“How?”
Ashley looked down.
“I told you he was faithful.”
“You told me he loved me.”
“Yes.”
“You told me he was planning a surprise honeymoon.”
“Yes.”
“You told me he was terrified I'd leave him.”
She started crying.
“I was lying.”
I stepped away from her.
All those conversations.
All those late-night phone calls.
All those times I'd asked:
Do you think Dwight really loves me?
Ashley had always said yes.
Because someone was paying her to say it.
The Question I Couldn't Forget
“But why me?”
Ashley looked up.
“What?”
“Why did Jared choose me?”
“I don't know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“I swear.”
“You knew about my inheritance.”
“Yes.”
“You knew about the shares.”
“Yes.”
“You knew Dwight was supposed to marry me.”
“Yes.”
“You knew they wanted my signature.”
“Yes.”
“Then you know why.”
Ashley shook her head.
“I only knew what they told me.”
“What did they tell you?”
She hesitated.
“They said you were the only person who could unlock the Carter estate.”
“That isn't enough.”
“I know.”
“Then what are you hiding?”
She stared at me for several seconds.
Then she whispered:
“They told me your mother had made a promise.”
My heart stopped.
“What promise?”
“I don't know.”
“Ashley.”
“I swear.”
“What kind of promise?”
“Something involving Martin.”
The room seemed to grow colder.
“My mother knew Martin.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“I don't know.”
“You're lying.”
“No.”
“Then tell me everything.”
Ashley closed her eyes.
“The first time Jared met me, he showed me a photograph.”
“What photograph?”
“You and your mother.”
I froze.
“What did he say?”
“He said you had inherited something that didn't belong to you.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“He said the Carter shares were only part of it.”
The Second Secret
I looked at Christopher.
He had been silent during the entire conversation.
Now he spoke.
“What else did your mother leave Elizabeth?”
Ashley shook her head.
“I don't know.”
Christopher stood.
“Then let's find out.”
He opened his laptop.
“Elizabeth, we need the original estate inventory.”
“I thought you had it.”
“I have the public inventory.”
“And the private one?”
“Your mother created a sealed supplemental inventory.”
I looked at him.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I didn't know it existed until this morning.”
He opened an encrypted file.
“There are references to an asset called Project Blue.”
I frowned.
“What is Project Blue?”
“We don't know.”
Ashley suddenly stood.
“I know that name.”
Everyone looked at her.
“How?”
“Martin used it.”
“When?”
“Three months before the wedding.”
“What did he say?”
“He told Jared that Project Blue had to be recovered before the marriage was finalized.”
My heart pounded.
“Recovered from whom?”
Ashley looked at me.
“Your mother.”
I couldn't speak.
My mother had been dead for five years.
So why were they still trying to recover something from her?
Ashley's Price
I sat down.
“Tell me exactly how much they paid you.”
Ashley looked uncomfortable.
“All of it?”
“All of it.”
She showed me the account.
Christopher photographed the transactions.
The total was staggering.
$94,000.
I stared.
“They paid you ninety-four thousand dollars?”
“Yes.”
“To destroy my marriage?”
“Yes.”
I laughed.
It wasn't funny.
“You made almost twice what I paid for my wedding.”
Ashley began crying again.
“I was desperate.”
“You weren't desperate when you bought your new car.”
She looked away.
“You weren't desperate when you moved into that apartment.”
Silence.
“You weren't desperate when you sent me photographs from your vacation.”
“I know.”
“You were greedy.”
She nodded.
“Yes.”
At least she admitted it.
Then I noticed another transaction.
$50,000 — SUCCESS FEE
But beneath it:
STATUS: REVERSED
I pointed at it.
“What happened?”
“They took it back.”
“Why?”
“Because I didn't complete my part.”
“What part?”
Ashley looked terrified.
“You weren't supposed to leave.”
I froze.
“What?”
“You were supposed to stay.”
“Stay where?”
“With Dwight.”
“Why?”
“Because the transfer required you to remain married for a certain period.”
“How long?”
“Twelve months.”
I stared at Christopher.
He nodded slowly.
“That matches the inheritance documents.”
Ashley continued.
“But when Jared realized you were leaving, he panicked.”
“That's why he attacked me.”
“Yes.”
“They wanted to scare me into staying.”
“Yes.”
I thought about Jared standing in front of the door.
If you walk out, don't bother coming back.
It hadn't been anger.
It had been panic.
He hadn't been trying to keep me in the family.
He had been trying to keep me inside a legal trap.
The Missing Twelve Months
Christopher searched the estate documents.
“There it is.”
He turned the laptop toward me.
The marriage condition was buried inside the inheritance structure.
Minimum marital period: twelve months.
I felt sick.
“If I had stayed…”
“You could have been pressured into signing.”
“And if I had signed?”
“Your shares could have been transferred.”
“But I didn't.”
“No.”
Christopher smiled faintly.
“You walked out before the clock started working against you.”
I looked at Ashley.
“Why did you tell them I'd stay?”
“Because I thought you would.”
“Why?”
“Because everyone thought you were too in love with Dwight to leave.”
I looked away.
That was the cruelest part.
They had understood my love.
They had used it against me.
The Real Job
I thought we'd finally reached the bottom.
We hadn't.
Ashley suddenly whispered:
“There was another part of my job.”
I looked at her.
“What?”
“I was supposed to get close to your mother.”
I froze.
“My mother was dead when you met me.”
“I know.”
“Then what are you talking about?”
Ashley pulled out another photograph.
This one was older.
My mother was standing outside a restaurant.
Beside her was Ashley's mother.
I stared.
“That's your mother?”
“Yes.”
“How did they know each other?”
“They worked together.”
“Where?”
Ashley shook her head.
“At Carter Holdings.”
I looked at Christopher.
He was already searching the records.
“Elizabeth…”
“What?”
“Ashley's mother was your mother's assistant.”
I felt dizzy.
“How long?”
“Almost fifteen years.”
Ashley nodded.
“She knew about Project Blue.”
“What is it?”
“I don't know.”
“Then what does your mother know?”
“She died three years ago.”
I looked at her.
“Did she leave anything?”
Ashley hesitated.
“A box.”
“Where?”
“My apartment.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because Martin told me never to open it.”
I stared at her.
“Why?”
“He said if I did, people would die.”
The Box
We went to Ashley's apartment.
She lived alone in a small building downtown.
She unlocked the door.
Then walked straight to the bedroom closet.
Behind a row of winter coats was a small metal box.
She pulled it out.
There was no key.
“How do you open it?”
Ashley shook her head.
“My mother said only you could.”
I frowned.
“Me?”
“Yes.”
She handed me the box.
I examined it.
There was a small indentation on the top.
I remembered something.
My mother's necklace.
I had inherited it after her death.
A silver pendant with a strange blue stone.
I pulled it from my neck.
The stone fit perfectly into the indentation.
Click.
The box opened.
Inside was a stack of documents.
A flash drive.
And an old handwritten letter.
The letter was addressed to:
Elizabeth Carter
My hands shook.
I opened it.
My daughter,
If you are reading this, then the Anderson family has finally found you.
Do not trust Dwight.
Do not trust Jared.
And above all, do not trust Martin.
But there is one person you must find before you make any decision.
Her name is Eleanor.
I looked up.
“Who is Eleanor?”
Ashley shook her head.
“I've never heard that name.”
Christopher looked at the documents.
“Neither have I.”
I continued reading.
Eleanor knows what happened the night I disappeared.
I stopped.
The room went silent.
I looked at Ashley.
“Disappeared?”
“My mother told me your mother died.”
“She did.”
“Then why does this letter say disappeared?”
I didn't know.
I read the next line.
The world believes I died five years ago. Let them believe it.
My heart stopped.
Christopher took the letter from my hands.
“Elizabeth…”
I whispered:
“My mother may have been alive after the date of her supposed death.”
He read the next page.
His face changed.
“What?”
He handed it back.
At the bottom was a date.
Two years after her supposed death.
And beneath it:
A signature.
Catherine Carter.
My mother's name.
The Woman Who Knew
I stared at the signature.
It was unmistakable.
My mother had signed that letter two years after her death certificate was issued.
That meant one of two things.
Either someone had forged her signature.
Or my mother hadn't died when I was told she did.
I looked at Christopher.
“Find Eleanor.”
“We will.”
“Today.”
He nodded.
Ashley stood silently.
I turned toward her.
“You said Martin told you never to open the box.”
“Yes.”
“How did Martin know about it?”
“I don't know.”
“Who else knew?”
She hesitated.
“Your father.”
The words hit me like a blow.
I froze.
“My father?”
Ashley nodded.
“Martin told him.”
I looked at Christopher.
“Then my father knew about Project Blue.”
“Yes.”
“And he knew my mother may have been alive.”
“Yes.”
I could barely breathe.
My father had always told me my mother died suddenly.
He had held me at the funeral.
He had promised to protect me.
He had spent years telling me there were no unanswered questions.
But now I was beginning to understand.
The Anderson family hadn't discovered me by accident.
Someone had given them a map.
Someone had told them where to find me.
Someone had told them what I inherited.
Someone had told them how to manipulate me.
And according to Ashley—
that someone may have been my own father.
The Final Payment
Before we left, Ashley stopped me.
“Elizabeth.”
I turned.
“There is one thing I haven't told you.”
“What?”
She looked terrified.
“The $94,000 wasn't my total payment.”
I frowned.
“What do you mean?”
“They promised me another $100,000.”
“For what?”
Ashley swallowed.
“For the final step.”
“What final step?”
She looked at Christopher.
Then at me.
“I was supposed to convince you to sign the marriage transfer.”
“You failed.”
“Yes.”
“So the payment was canceled.”
“No.”
“Then what?”
Ashley whispered:
“They gave the money to someone else.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“That's a lie.”
“I swear.”
“Who received the $100,000?”
Ashley began shaking.
Then she finally said:
“Your father.”
The room went silent.
I felt the blood drain from my face.
My father.
The man who had raised me.
The man who had comforted me after my mother's death.
The man who had walked me down the aisle.
The man who had hugged me before I married Dwight.
He had been paid $100,000.
To help them obtain my inheritance.
I closed my eyes.
A thousand memories suddenly looked different.
Every question he'd asked about Dwight.
Every time he'd encouraged me to marry him.
Every time he'd said the Anderson family was “respectable.”
Every time he'd told me not to worry about finances.
Maybe none of it had been fatherly advice.
Maybe he'd been steering me toward the trap.
My phone rang.
I looked at the screen.
DAD.
For several seconds, I couldn't answer.
Then I did.
“Hello?”
His voice was calm.
“Elizabeth.”
I said nothing.
“I heard you've been asking questions.”
My heart pounded.
“Who told you?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes.”
He sighed.
“You were never supposed to find out this way.”
My hand tightened around the phone.
“Find out what?”
Silence.
Then my father said something that shattered the last piece of trust I had left.
“Your mother isn't dead.”
I couldn't breathe.
“Where is she?”
“I don't know.”
“You're lying.”
“I wish I were.”
“Then why did you let me believe she was dead?”
His voice broke.
“Because she asked me to.”
I froze.
“What?”
“She told me to protect you.”
“From whom?”
He didn't answer.
“Dad.”
His voice dropped to a whisper.
“From Martin.”
I stared at the wall.
Then he said:
“Elizabeth, you have to listen to me.”
“Why?”
“Because the people who wanted your inheritance are no longer the ones you need to fear.”
“Then who?”
He was silent for several seconds.
Finally:
“The person who planned your marriage isn't Martin.”
I felt my stomach drop.
“Who is it?”
My father's answer came softly.
“Your mother.”
The call ended.
I stared at the phone.
Ashley looked at me.
“What did he say?”
I couldn't speak.
Christopher stepped closer.
“What happened?”
I finally looked up.
“My father says my mother is alive.”
Christopher's eyes widened.
“And he says she planned my marriage.”
Nobody spoke.
I looked down at the photograph of my mother.
For years, I had thought she was the victim of a tragedy.
Now I didn't know what she was.
Victim.
Mastermind.
Or something in between.
But one thing was certain.
The woman who had been paid to betray me had just opened a door.
May you like
And behind that door was the truth about my mother.
And the person who had secretly been protecting—or controlling—my entire life.
