The CEO'S Toxic Placeholder

Chapter 1 (Eleanor's POV) I froze just outside the private room, a cold chill creeping up my spine as I overheard the voices drifting through the c***k in the door. “Henry, now that Vivienne’s back from Paris, what’s your plan with Eleanor?” Henry’s voice was smooth, practiced—a perfect Wall Street mask. “What do you mean?” “Come on, man. You and Eleanor have been together for three years. Vivienne’s back in the city. That changes things, doesn’t it?” I peeked through the gap, watching Henry. He took a long drag from his vape, the cloud of smoke swirling in the low light. He exhaled slowly before answering, quieter this time. “I don’t know. I don’t want to hurt Eleanor, but Vivienne... that’s complicated.” A laugh rumbled from one of his friends. “Vivienne was your college sweetheart. You guys were legendary. Everyone at Yale still talks about it. No one’s judging you for not being over her.” “Look,” another voice interjected, “Eleanor’s been ride-or-die for three years, and she’s gorgeous. You’re telling me you’re still hung up on Vivienne?” Henry rubbed his temples, his voice tired, weighed down by too many late nights. “Yeah, Eleanor’s beautiful. But when I first asked her out... it was because she reminded me of Vivienne. The whole time, I’ve been chasing her ghost.” There was a pause, thick with disbelief. “So Eleanor’s just been a placeholder?” A knot twisted in my stomach. “When are you going to end it?” someone asked. Henry’s vape clicked against the table, and I could see the light pulse from his fingers. “Not sure. Eleanor gets me. She understands the crazy hours. She never complains. Letting that go... isn’t easy.” One of his friends clapped him on the shoulder. “You can’t have your cake and eat it too, man. Time to make a call.” “Or just keep both,” someone laughed. Henry scoffed. “Not all of us can juggle multiple dating apps like you, jackass.” My fingers curled around the doorframe as I turned and walked away, my heels clicking sharply against the marble floor. Each step felt heavier than the last. I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t bother looking at my phone until I was outside, the cold night air rushing over me. The twinkling lights of Manhattan felt so distant, like I was standing on the edge of a world that didn’t recognize me. Three years. I thought what we had was real. But now I saw it. I had been his practice, his second choice, his safe space until Vivienne came back. I paused, standing on the High Line, the wind biting at my face. It was the same view I’d come to love in my time here, yet tonight it felt alien. The city stretched endlessly before me, lights blurring into the horizon. And I realized I had a choice to make. A tear slid down my cheek, the cold wind stinging my skin as it pulled me back into reality. It was time to stop pretending. I pulled out my phone, dialed the number I’d been avoiding, and hit FaceTime. “Papa?” My voice cracked just slightly. “About the arrangement with the Blackwood family in London... I’ll do it.” The city lights painted the skyline in soft hues of gold. I held my phone to my ear, my voice steady despite the chaos in my chest. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m just done with the dating scene. Time to be practical.” He listened in silence before replying, “You were right all along. I shouldn’t have fought you on this. I get it now.” I nodded, though he couldn’t see. “I’ll head back to London once I’ve wrapped things up here.” By the time I made it back to our penthouse, it was past ten. Mabel, our housekeeper, greeted me at the door with a warm smile, though her eyes held concern. “Miss Winters, welcome back. I kept the bone broth warm for Mr. Ashcroft. His stomach’s been acting up again. I was about to take it up, but since you’re here—” “Thanks, Mabel,” I murmured, taking the pot without another word. I headed for the master suite, setting the broth on the bedside table. The room was empty, though his laptop glowed, the soft light flickering in the stillness. The shower ran behind the closed bathroom door, steam curling beneath the c***k. Showering? At this hour? I didn’t question it. I glanced at his laptop screen and froze. A string of notifications from Vivienne, sent minutes ago. [Henry, landed at JFK! Having dinner with the Paris team, but free after 11:30. Drinks at our old spot??] I felt something cold tighten in my chest. I knew that “old spot” well. It was their place. [These years in Paris... I’ve missed you every day. I focused too much on my career. Should’ve never let you go.] [We were both stubborn back then. But you still think about us too, right?] [Tried dating other guys in Paris, but it never felt right. Finally admitted to myself it’s because they weren’t you.] [Been putting off this transfer to NYC for ages. Scared you’d hate me, scared you had someone serious, maybe even moved on.] [Henry... I messed up back then. Any chance you can forgive me?] My heart squeezed. I was about to close the chat, but then I saw Henry’s reply. [Just need to know one thing, Si: do you still feel it?] Classic Henry. Texting while in the shower. Always a meeting, always too busy for me, yet here he was, replying like he had all the time in the world for her. I held my breath. The difference between love and convenience had never been clearer. Vivienne’s reply came immediately. [Always have, always will. Only you.] [See you soon?] The final blow. I closed the chat, wiped the screen clean, and reset the mouse. I needed to stay busy. In the kitchen, I poured myself a bowl of broth, the one I’d made for him. It was my attempt at fixing him, like it always had been. I finished the broth and heard Henry come down the stairs, freshly showered, looking put together in the dark blazer I’d given him for Christmas. He glanced up. “Where were you earlier? Didn’t see you when I got back.” “Just needed some air,” I said, my voice soft. He grabbed his keys. “Got to handle something at the office. Don’t wait up.” I stared into my empty bowl. “Will you be back tonight?” Henry hesitated, then shook his head. “Might crash at the office if this deal runs late.” “Got it,” I whispered. And that was it. The girl who never made waves. The one who always understood. Later that night, his side of the bed was still empty. It felt too quiet. The next morning, my phone jolted me awake. “Hello?” “Eleanor! You’re coming to my birthday thing tomorrow night, right? Reservation’s at eight!” I squinted at the screen, still half asleep. It was Seraphina Rothschild, one of Henry’s old colleagues. She was kind to me, always had been. “I wouldn’t miss it. Text me the details?” I hung up and headed out, looking for a gift. The next evening, I arrived at the restaurant early. The place was busy, buzzing with voices. I found Seraphina and handed her the gift. “Happy birthday, C,” I said with a smile. Seraphina beamed, taking it from me. We were in the middle of a conversation when I saw him—Henry. He walked in, fashionably late, with a woman I didn’t recognize at his side. When our eyes met, he stiffened. “Eleanor? What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice sharp with surprise. Chapter 2 (Eleanor's POV) Henry jerked his arm free from the woman's touch, eyes sharp as he gave her an unreadable glance. I paused, hand hovering mid-air. My smile tightened. "Seraphina and I are friends too. Is it really that strange for me to show up to her birthday party?" Henry didn't blink. "No. I just thought you didn’t care much for these kinds of events," he replied. "That’s why I didn’t bring it up." A cold laugh bubbled up inside me. Was that the real reason? Or had he kept quiet so he could bring someone else instead? Henry’s gaze swept over the room, scanning for the person who had invited me. It was as if he were daring the walls to tell him who was behind this. Seraphina caught his eye briefly, then looked away, pretending to be absorbed in something else. "Hi, you must be Eleanor," a voice cut through the tension. I turned to see a woman stepping forward, a confident smile painted on her lips. "I'm Vivienne. I think Henry’s mentioned me?" So this was Vivienne. Henry’s first love. The woman he could never forget. The pain hit my chest like a slap. Three years of love, three years of hope, just to see it all crumble in a heartbeat. No matter how hard I tried to forget, this woman would always be there, standing in my way. I forced a smile. "Ah, Vivienne. I’ve heard so much about you." Vivienne studied me, eyes narrowing slightly, as if sizing me up. "Has anyone ever told you we look alike?" Henry's face shifted, his brow furrowing, the muscle in his jaw twitching. The change was quick, subtle, but unmistakable. I caught it, my lips curving with something sharp. I met Vivienne’s gaze, my voice sweet but cutting. "Really? I don’t see it. I think I’m prettier." The air in the room stilled. Whispers floated like sharp daggers between the us. It wasn’t the usual sweet, accommodating me they were used to. No, something had changed. Seraphina, sensing the c***k in the tension, quickly spoke up. "Come on, everyone, let’s sit down." The conversation died as quickly as it had started, and we all took our seats. Vivienne handed over a gift, her smile forced. "Happy birthday, C." Seraphina’s face lit up as she opened the box. "Wow, I’ve wanted this necklace forever! Thank you, Vivienne!" My stomach sank like a stone. The same necklace? Seraphina opened my gift next, her eyes widening. "Oh my god, Eleanor got me the same one!" Murmurs rippled through the group. "Must be a replica." Someone’s voice dropped low, barely audible. "That necklace costs over five grand. Even at a mid-tier firm, it's a bit much for someone like her." The room went dead silent. Eyes shifted toward me, waiting for my reaction. I fought the urge to laugh bitterly. $165,000 a year might be impressive in most places, but in Henry’s world, it barely made the cut. To them, I was just another junior associate—no one important. Not one of the elite. Not one of the private equity sharks making millions. Henry’s expression hardened. "Eleanor, if you needed money for a gift, you could’ve asked me. You didn’t have to—" "Buy a fake?" My voice was ice, each word cutting through the silence. His jaw clenched, and the accusation hung in the air. Seraphina shifted uncomfortably. "Come on, guys," she murmured, trying to smooth things over. "Eleanor wouldn’t do that." But her eyes—her eyes betrayed a flicker of doubt. My chest tightened. I had spent over five thousand dollars on that necklace as a thank-you for Seraphina's kindness. Real kindness, when she had nothing left. Back when she’d been cut off from her family, struggling to make ends meet after running away. That necklace was a symbol of gratitude, not something she could ever fake. But it didn’t matter in this world. The moment I'd agreed to my father’s plans for an arranged marriage, my financial situation had changed. $5,000? Pocket change. "I’ll take the necklace back," Henry said, his voice stiff. "I’ll get you something else, Seraphina. I apologize for this misunderstanding." Seraphina hesitated, caught between her loyalty to Henry and trying not to offend anyone. "Give it to him if you want," I said coldly, crossing my arms. Seraphina reluctantly handed the box back to Henry, her face pale. Vivienne piped up with a voice dripping with faux sympathy. "Henry, don’t be mad. She meant well." Henry said nothing, his eyes darker than before. To break the awkwardness, someone suggested playing drinking games, and Vivienne immediately jumped in, flashing a bright smile. I, however, was done. I retreated to the corner of the sofa, phone in hand, pretending to scroll through it. Henry followed, sitting next to me. I ignored him, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. After a beat, he spoke again. "You could’ve gotten something cheaper instead of a fake." My eyes didn’t leave the screen. "If you’re so sure it’s fake, give it back." "You’re embarrassing me, you know that?" I set my phone down slowly and turned to him, staring him down. "How exactly am I embarrassing you? The receipt’s in the box. Want me to call the store and verify it?" Henry didn’t answer right away. Instead, he checked the receipt, his face softening just a little. "Why didn’t you say something earlier?" "Wasn’t worth the effort," I muttered, picking my phone back up. He sighed quietly. After a few moments, he muttered an apology. I pretended not to hear, though my gaze followed him as he turned back to the group. His attention flickered between the drinking games and—more specifically—Vivienne. The game continued on, but Vivienne lost a round and, as per tradition, was pressured to drink. I watched as Henry finally stood up, moving towards Vivienne with quick strides, anger flashing in his eyes. He snatched the glass from her hand before she could take another sip. "Your stomach can’t handle that much alcohol. Are you trying to make yourself sick?" The room fell into stunned silence. Vivienne lifted her gaze, defiant. "Why do you care?" "No more drinking," Henry said, his voice a command. "Anyone tries to get her to drink more, they deal with me." The others quickly scattered, not wanting to test him. I watched them, a bitter smile forming on my lips. Vivienne stood to grab her drink, but Henry held it just out of reach. She tried to reach for it, losing her balance in the process and falling into his arms. He caught her effortlessly, his arm wrapping around her waist. "Still so clumsy after all these years?" Vivienne looked up at him, her cheeks flushed from the alcohol. "You’re still so annoying, Henry." Laughter rippled through the group, teasing them, but Henry’s attention snapped back to me, his eyes locking onto my icy stare from across the room. Chapter 3 (Eleanor's POV) “Are you serious?” I snapped, my voice rising as I stared at Henry. He seemed to wake up all of a sudden, as though I was a ghost he'd forgotten about. His hand slid off Vivienne’s waist like it burned him, and he stepped back, a look of guilt flashing across his face. The guys, following his gaze to me, scrambled. “Let’s keep playing,” one of them said, awkwardly breaking the silence. “Vivienne, skip the drinks if you’re not feeling well—truth or dare is better anyway.” “Yeah, truth or dare’s perfect!” Vivienne cheered, oblivious to the tension in the air. Henry took a deep breath and sat back down on the couch. He was trying to act like everything was fine. He must have thought I was about to throw a fit. I couldn’t blame him; that’s what everyone else probably expected. But I didn’t do anything. Not a word. Not a glance. Nothing. I just sat there, staring at the group like they were part of some weird, distant dream. A part of me wanted to yell, to demand an explanation, but another part—probably the smarter part—just stayed silent. I watched Henry glance at me, waiting for something. His eyes searched my face for signs of jealousy, for hurt, for something that would give him the validation he seemed to crave. But I didn’t give him anything. And that seemed to unsettle him even more than anything I could’ve said. “Truth or dare?” someone called out, pulling my attention back to the group. Vivienne was sitting up straighter, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. “Dare,” she said, her eyes flicking to Henry for just a second before she turned to the stack of dare cards someone had set out. “Pick one,” someone urged, and she drew a card from the pile. The room fell silent as she read it. I caught the look of shock that passed between the girls watching her, and then one of them gasped. “What is it?” “What’d she get?” another voice asked, almost a whisper. “Kiss any guy in the room of your choice,” the reader said, her voice trembling. She shot a quick glance at Henry, as if expecting him to explode. The air in the room shifted. It felt like the temperature dropped. Everyone held their breath. Vivienne didn’t seem to notice the tension. In fact, she seemed to enjoy it. She stood up with a playful smirk and walked over to Louis, a guy I barely knew but who was definitely good-looking. “Louis,” Vivienne said with a flirtatious laugh, “mind if I kiss you?” Louis froze, his eyes flicking from her to Henry, who was glaring daggers at him. Henry didn’t even move at first. His jaw was clenched so tight I thought it might c***k. But then, just as Vivienne leaned in, his voice cut through the air like a knife. “Enough!” he barked. I flinched at the sound, but it didn’t matter. Henry was already up and across the room in two strides. He grabbed Vivienne’s hand, practically dragging her toward the door. The room was silent for a second, then the guests exchanged uncertain glances. They couldn’t decide whether to look at me or pretend nothing was happening. Eleanor’s fine, I imagined them thinking. She’s used to this by now. She’ll let it go. But I didn’t. I wouldn’t. I didn’t speak, just took another sip of my drink, letting it cool my thoughts. “What’s going on?” a voice asked, breaking through the haze of my own thoughts. I glanced up, meeting the eyes of one of the women at the bar. She raised an eyebrow, waiting for me to give her something to work with. I smiled softly. “Why do you think I care?” I said, my tone even, too calm. They quickly looked away, pretending to busy themselves with their drinks. I didn’t care. But I could feel it. That cold, creeping feeling in my chest. I didn’t like it. When my glass was empty, I stood and excused myself to the restroom. The sound of voices echoed from the hall, sharp and cutting. “Henry’s lost it. Leaving his girlfriend there, running off with Vivienne.” “You see his face? Terrifying when Vivienne was about to kiss Louis.” “Poor girlfriend—watching her man lose it over another woman. Shows who he really cares about, huh?” “Honestly, she’s just a replacement.” “Yeah. They’ll break up soon. It’s obvious. Everyone can see Henry’s in love with Vivienne.” I froze as I stepped into the restroom, hearing them leave before I could even respond. I leaned against the sink, forcing myself to breathe evenly. They were right. We were done. But it wouldn’t be him ending it. No, this time it would be me. When I got back to the penthouse, I headed straight for the closet. I didn’t care to look at the time. I didn’t care about Henry, or the mess he was leaving behind. I needed to leave. The suitcase was already open on the floor, half-filled with clothes I’d sorted through earlier. I paused, staring at it, as the weight of what I was doing settled in. I wasn’t just leaving; I was leaving a part of me behind. I didn’t want to be this version of myself anymore. Just as I pulled another sweater from the closet, the door opened. Henry stood there, holding it half ajar, staring at me. His frown deepened as his eyes flicked to the suitcase. “What’s this?” he asked. I glanced up, my hands still busy folding clothes. “Oh. You’re back. I’m heading home for a while.” Henry raised an eyebrow, but didn’t push. “Why? Still mad about last night?” “No. Just… missing my family.” I kept my tone light, not meeting his eyes. He softened, his posture relaxing. “That’s good. You’ve never gone home before.” I didn’t want to think about the fact that it was true. He couldn’t even manage a holiday with me, let alone anything serious. He’d made it clear there would never be a future for us. “I can’t come with you,” he said, his voice low. “When’s your flight? I’ll have Theo drive you to the airport.” I shook my head. “No need. I’ve got it covered.” I didn’t want him anywhere near my family. “Okay, but text me when you land. I’ll pick you up when you get back to New York.” I bit back a laugh, my throat tightening with the weight of everything. “Okay.” I wouldn’t be back. But he didn’t need to know that. Henry’s phone rang, and after a quick conversation, he turned to me again. “I have to go,” he said, his voice softer now. “About last night… I shouldn’t have left you there. I got you something. My assistant will drop it off.” I didn’t answer. I just watched him leave. As soon as the door shut, my phone buzzed. I glanced at the screen. Jasper. I didn’t answer. I wasn’t ready to face him yet. Chapter 4 (Eleanor's POV) "Eleanor, the custom engagement ring I commissioned from Chaumet just arrived at their boutique. Want to see it?" Chaumet. The name alone was enough to make anyone pause. The jeweler of choice for European aristocrats, known for pieces that outshone even the finest diamonds. I'd agreed to the marriage just days ago, but already the ring was here? Had Jasper planned this all along? A thought nagged at me as I typed back a simple, "Sure." The Chaumet boutique smelled like polished wood and luxury. A sleek specialist, all grace and poise, led me to a display case where the ring awaited. He looked at me with a smile that felt rehearsed. "Miss Winters, this is the ring Mr. Blackwood specially commissioned for you." My breath caught in my throat. I stared at the piece: a five-carat blue diamond, surrounded by a halo of pink and white diamonds. The stones caught the light like stars trapped in glass. I reached for it without thinking. The specialist added with a quiet pride, "We’ve engraved your initials inside, as requested." I turned the band, my finger tracing the delicate engraving. "JB EW" — my initials, my name intertwined with his. A quiet hum of emotion stirred in my chest. It fit perfectly. As if it had always been meant for me. The specialist leaned in, his voice sincere. "It’s stunning." Before I could respond, a voice cut through the moment like a blade. "Eleanor? What are you doing here?" I turned, instinctively stiffening. Henry. His eyes locked on the ring, then shot back to me with a sudden flash of anger. Beside him, Vivienne stood, her hand casually draped in his, as though she hadn’t just been caught in a moment of betrayal. The smile on Vivienne’s face was too sweet to be genuine. I forced myself to relax. "Just trying on a ring," I said, a smile pulling at the corner of my lips. Henry's eyes darkened as he stormed forward, his gaze flicking between me and the ring. "What do you think? Beautiful, isn’t it?" I wiggled my fingers, letting the diamonds catch the light. Henry’s jaw tightened. His voice was sharp. "No. It’s not." The words stung, but I didn’t flinch. We both knew what a ring like this meant. He didn’t want me. He had made that clear. And the ring, no matter how stunning, was nothing more than a reminder of what I would never have. Vivienne, sensing an opportunity, flashed a smile at me. "What a coincidence," she said. "Henry and I are here to look at rings, too." I bit back a laugh. So that’s what Henry’s ‘important business’ call had been about. Shopping for rings with Vivienne? Henry didn’t deny it. Vivienne’s eyes flicked over to the ring on my finger. Her gaze narrowed. That center stone had to be at least five carats, with those rare pink diamonds in the halo... I could see the jealousy burning in Vivienne’s eyes. "Quite the ring," Vivienne said, her voice syrupy sweet. I met her gaze. "Isn’t it? I think so too." The silence stretched, thick with unspoken tension. Henry’s face was red now, his hand clenching into a fist. "Take it off, Eleanor," he growled. "Why?" I didn’t back down, though my heart skipped. "Are you trying to pressure me into marriage?" He exploded, his voice rising. "I will never marry you!" Vivienne’s lips curled into a smug smile. "Actually, we’re here at Angelina’s request," she added, her words dripping with superiority. "She’s particular about the family ring." Her eyes bored into mine. "Henry and I are the future of the Ashcroft family. You don’t belong here." My amusement flickered. They were both acting like I was the one who had something to prove. I hadn’t come here to win anyone’s approval. But watching them squirm made it hard to keep my composure. "I see," I said evenly. "Noted." Henry and Vivienne exchanged confused looks. They couldn’t understand why I wasn’t reacting the way they’d expected. Vivienne studied me, trying to gauge whether I was hiding jealousy or simply too indifferent to care. But my expression remained neutral, as unreadable as stone. Jasper’s text buzzed in my pocket, breaking the tension. [Beautiful. Do you like it?] I smiled, my fingers moving quickly across the screen. [I do.] [I'm glad.] [Jasper, this ring must have cost a fortune.] [You're worth every penny.] I couldn’t help but grin. My heart fluttered in a way I hadn’t expected. Later, I wandered into the watch boutique next door. I wanted to buy Jasper a gift—something that would suit him when I arrived in London. My father had shown me recent photos of Jasper: cool, composed, his sharp features matching the coolness in his eyes. Just as I remembered. I picked out a sleek black timepiece, the kind Jasper would appreciate—simple, elegant, and understated. As I handed over the payment, a familiar voice called out. "Eleanor, what are you…" I froze mid-step. My heart skipped. I recognized that voice instantly. Chapter 5 (Eleanor's POV) “Wait—hold up, that’s a watch?” Quentin's voice pulled me out of my thoughts. His eyes flicked from the shopping bag in my hand to my face, his brows furrowed in surprise. Quentin was Henry's friend. I shrugged, not feeling like explaining. “Just picking up some things.” He eyed the bag again. “A gift for Henry?” It felt easier to nod than to lie. Quentin hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with the idea. “Eleanor… you don’t need to spend that much on him. Even their basic models go for fifteen grand. Henry—he’s not worth that.” I bristled at the words but didn’t say anything. No need to get into it. He didn’t know the full story. “Last night... he wasn’t exactly a gentleman, was he?” Quentin continued, his voice dropping as if he were choosing his words carefully. "He left with Vivienne right in front of everyone. I don’t know what game he’s playing, but—" I didn’t need to hear more. I already knew. Henry had made it clear—I was a placeholder. Nothing more. He couldn’t get over Vivienne, and me? I was just something to fill the space until Vivienne came back into the picture. I didn’t even know about the photo—Vivienne’s little stunt. Quentin had, though. He’d seen it. He wanted to tell me, but held back. I didn’t need that extra hurt. “I know he doesn’t deserve it,” I said, my voice quieter now. “The watch isn’t for him anyway.” Quentin seemed torn. “Eleanor—seriously, you’re too good for him. Don’t throw your money at someone who won’t appreciate it.” I forced a smile, keeping it polite. “You’re right. Won’t happen again.” We shared a brief silence before Quentin cleared his throat. “Take care of yourself, alright?” “Yeah. You too,” I said, then turned to leave. As I walked away, Quentin stood still, staring after me. I heard him mutter to himself, “What a damn waste. She’s way too good for him.” But I didn't turn back. Back at my penthouse, I kept packing. My suitcase lay open on the bed, half-filled. I zipped up my suitcase, placing Jasper’s gift carefully