Chapter 1

My monthly salary was $6,700. My sister made $267,000 a month.

Every time we had a family dinner, my fiancé, Adam Lawrence, seated my sister, Emily Carter, at the head of the table and placed me in a corner.

The night before our wedding, my parents transferred $14 million as a wedding gift.

I was so excited to tell him that we could buy a house outright.

I opened WhatsApp, and his message popped up first: [Can you not come tomorrow? My coworkers all know how rich your sister is. Having you there is too embarrassing.]

I stared at the number on the screen and laughed.

The next day, the wedding venue was empty.

*****

The table fell silent for the tenth time.

It all started when Adam's mom raised her glass again. She turned to my sister, Emily. Her wrinkled face lit up. "Emily, you're the pride of our family.

"Earning $267,000 a month. Do you know what that means? Adam doesn't even make that much in a year."

Adam sat next to his mom, smiling. He looked like he was basking in her glory. "Mom, stop it. You're putting a lot of pressure on me."

But even as he said that, he grabbed the biggest rib and put it on Emily's plate. "Emily, have some more. You look exhausted."

Emily looked a little embarrassed. She tried to give me the rib.

But Adam blocked her with his fork. "Emily, don't bother with her. She sits in an office all day and barely burns any calories."

My plate was empty. Not a single piece of food had made it onto my plate since we started eating.

I sat there in the far corner of the table. Some spare plates and a fork were right next to me.

Adam's mom, my future mother-in-law, cleared her throat. "Sophie."

She finally noticed me. "Not to be mean, but you really should take a page from your sister. A woman can't rely on a man.

"$6,700 a month sounds decent, but in this city, what can you really do with that?

"Since you're marrying in tomorrow, we're all family now, so I'm being real with you. You can't hold Adam back."

My parents' faces were grim.

My mom was about to speak up. But my dad reached under the table and grabbed her hand. He gave her a slight shake of his head.

The wedding was tomorrow. They couldn't make a scene.

I picked up the glass in front of me. It was water. I took a sip.

Adam gave me a warning look. It was like he was saying, "If you make my mom look bad, see what happens."

I set the glass down and didn't say a word.

Finally, the meal was over.

On the drive home, my mom kept sighing. "Sophie, what do you think about this family?"

I stared out the window at the city lights. "Mom, the wedding's tomorrow."

That one sentence made the car go quiet again.

The wedding was tomorrow.

The invitations had been sent out.

The hotel was booked.

The wedding planner would be at our house before dawn.

It was too late to talk about it.

Back in my room, I took off my coat and flopped onto the bed.

My phone buzzed. I picked it up. It was a text from the bank.

It was a deposit notification.

I started counting the zeros. It was $14 million.

I sat there, dumbfounded.

Then, my dad's message popped up on WhatsApp: [Sophie, this is the wedding gift your mom and I are giving you. We were going to surprise you tomorrow, but we decided to tell you now.

[It may not seem like much, but it's the capital for your new life with Adam. From now on, hold your head high.]

My eyes welled up.

My parents understood everything.

It wasn't that they didn't have a temper.

They were holding back for me.

$14 million. The riverfront apartment Adam and I had been looking at was 5 million dollars. We could pay for it in full. No need for a one-million-dollar mortgage hanging over our heads.

The rest would be more than enough to keep us comfortable for the rest of our lives.

I was overwhelmed with excitement.

I grabbed my phone, itching to share the good news with Adam.

I wanted him to know I wasn't dead weight.

I could give him a good life, too.

I tapped his chat icon.

Before I could even open the conversation, his message appeared. It was sent a minute ago. [Can you not come tomorrow? My colleagues all know how rich your sister is. If you show up, you'll make me look too low-class.]