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.”

Are you sure your parents want me there?

His reply came two minutes later.

Of course. It’ll be good. They just need to get to know you better.

Carter stared at the message until the screen dimmed. She knew better than to trust the phrase get to know you better. In wealthy families, it usually meant inspect, classify, and decide whether you are decorative continue reading …