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.”

brittle sounds of something fragile.

Ethan was by the bar, deep in conversation with two of his father’s colleagues. They were leaning in a little too closely, talking in that way that seemed more about marking territory than exchanging ideas. Carter’s gaze swept over them, over the people who were so certain of their place in the world, and the people continue reading …