I never told my boyfriend’s arrogant parents that I was the one who owned the bank holding all their debt. To them, I was just “some barista with no future.” At their luxury yacht party, his mother sneered and shoved a drink into my hands, spilling it down my dress. “Staff should stay below deck,” she said coldly. His father laughed. “Careful—don’t ruin the furniture.”

without conflict,” he said after a moment. “Can you do that for me?”

The question hung between them like perfume in the air—pleasant, expensive, and faintly suffocating. Carter could have answered honestly: Can I endure being insulted? Yes. Can I pretend not to notice why you never defend me? No. Instead, she reached for her water glass and bought herself continue reading …