Chapter 1

My fiancé, Owen Linden, had a huge fight with me before his business trip. He said all I did was ask for money.

"You don't even make 70,000 dollars a year, and you dare ask me for that money?" he snapped.

He didn't know. I just wanted to save my grandma's life.

On the way to the hospital, my neighbor, May Walker, tried to talk me into it. "Timothy Sterling, the oldest son of Mr. and Mrs. Sterling, broke both his legs. No one wants to marry him.

"If you say yes, they'd shower you with riches."

Seventy thousand dollars was more than I could earn in a year. The Sterling family was no worse than Owen's.

But I was scared Timothy wouldn't want me. So I asked, my voice trembling with fear, "I don't need all that wealth. Just 70,000 dollars. Is that okay?"

*****

We were in our spacious 2,000‑square‑foot apartment with floor‑to‑ceiling windows overlooking the river.

When we first moved in, he said, "Nat, from now on, this is our home."

Now he tossed a brown paper bag at my feet. It fell open, and medical records and payment slips scattered all over the floor.

"Seventy thousand dollars?" He was fastening his cufflinks, his voice light and careless. "How much do you make in a year? Can you even come up with 70,000 dollars?"

I crouched down to pick up the papers. My hands were shaking. "Owen, it's for my grandma..."

He cut me off. "Natalie, let's add up how much I spend on you every year, all right? You don't pay rent. You don't pay utilities. I cover your meals, your shopping, everything.

"You make 5,000 dollars a month, and your whole paycheck stays in your own pocket. I've never taken a cent. And now you open your mouth for 70,000 dollars. What, you think just because my family owns a company, money grows on trees?"

I looked up at him.

He stood there in his white shirt and dress pants. On his wrist was the watch he bought last week, worth over 20,000 dollars.

He bought it himself, with his own money. His family gave him more than that every month just as an allowance.

"Owen, I've never asked you for anything else. This is the first time," I said.

"The first time?" he chuckled. "You call that never asking? Last time you mentioned wanting a new phone, who bought it for you?

"And the time before that, when you said your mom needed to come to the city to see a doctor, who booked the hotel? You didn't say it outright, but that's what you meant, isn't it?"

I tried to say something. He waved his hand. "Alright. Drop it."

He glanced at his phone. "The driver's waiting downstairs. We'll talk about that 70,000 dollars when I get back from my business trip."

He started for the door, then stopped. "Oh, by the way, I had dinner with Chloe yesterday. She asked what you do for work. I said you're an office clerk at a private company.

She smiled and said, 'That must be tough. She probably doesn't make much in a year, right? Owen, you should be sweet to her.'"

He looked back at me, with something unreadable in his eyes. "She made a good point. Natalie, you can't even earn 70,000 dollars in a year. So what makes you think you can ask me for that money?"

The door closed. I knelt on the floor and picked up the papers one by one.

They were Grandma's medical records and payment slips.

Grandma raised me. When I was five, my mom left, and my dad didn't want me. Grandma pulled me into her arms and said, "Don't be scared, sweetheart. I'm here."

She put me through college and skimped on food and clothes for herself. She gave me everything she had saved her whole life.

Now she was lying in a hospital bed, waiting for the 70,000 dollars to save her.

And Owen? His family had a company, a factory, and luxury houses. His dad's car cost enough for ten surgeries. One of his mom's purses cost enough for three hospital stays.

It was not that he didn't have the money. He just didn't want to spend it on me.

*****

I gathered up the papers and left for the hospital.

The hospital was on the west side of the city. I lived on the east side. I usually took the subway. Today was no different. 40 minutes, two transfers, three dollars.

As I came out of the subway station, I ran into someone.

"Nat?" the person said.

I looked up. It was May. "Mrs. Walker, hi."

She studied my face. "Did something happen... between you and Mr. Linden?"

I was stunned. We just had the fight. How did she already know?

She said, "I was out shopping and passed by his company building. I saw him getting into a car. There was a pretty woman standing next to him. They were laughing and talking. I know her. She's from the Bennett family. Their families go way back. Her name is Chloe Bennett."

Chloe. His childhood sweetheart.

Last time we had dinner together, she smiled and said to me, "You really picked the right guy. Owen's family has a company. You've got it made." I didn't get it back then. Now I did.

May took my hand and sighed, "Nat, there's something I don't know if I should say."

"Go ahead," I said.

"The Sterling family, do you remember them? They used to live in the village next to ours. Later they moved to the city and started a business," she said.

I had a faint memory. There was a Sterling family next door. They got rich later.

She went on, "Mr. and Mrs. Sterlings' oldest son, Timothy. You probably saw him when you were little. He got into a car accident last month. Both his legs are broken. The doctor said he'll never stand up again.

"Mr. and Mrs. Sterlings only have this one son. Someday the whole family fortune will be his. But with things the way they are, who would want to marry into that and take care of a cripple?"

She looked at me. "Nat, if you're willing, they'd shower you with riches. The Sterling family is no worse than the Linden family. And I've met Timothy. He's good‑looking and has a good heart. Just bad luck."

All of Owen's houses and cars probably meant nothing next to what the Sterling family owned.

But I didn't want all that wealth. I just wanted 70,000 dollars.

"Mrs. Walker," I said.

"Yeah?" she replied.

"I don't want all that wealth. Just 70,000 dollars. Is that okay?"

May froze.

I knew how ridiculous that sounded.

Timothy's parents wanted a daughter-in-law. Someone to take care of Timothy for the rest of his life. And I just come out and ask for 70,000 dollars. How was that different from putting a price tag on myself?

It sounded even worse than what Owen said.

But I didn't have any other choice.