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At my engagement banquet, my fiancé Ryan Carter suddenly produced a medical slip and declared before the crowd, "I'm breaking things off with Madeline. Lily is carrying my child, and I must take responsibility." Ignoring my shock and humiliation, Ryan announced proudly to the assembled guests, "Lily is the adopted daughter of Victoria Sinclair, the wealthiest woman in the city." Then he added, "If you were in my position, you would make the same choice." Before I could denounce Ryan for his betrayal, the guests rushed to offer their congratulations, praising him as if he had secured the greatest fortune by marrying into the Sinclair family. Some even lauded his ability, marveling that he could wed the adopted daughter of the wealthiest woman. Surrounded by such sycophants, I was left both aghast and enraged. For Victoria Sinclair, the wealthiest woman in the city, was my mother. And my mother has never adopted a daughter.