Terlilit Hutang : Dinikahi Pewaris Kejam Nan Tampan

In the bank's private-client lounge, I went through my husband's transactions one by one. Every new line made the pressure in my chest worse.

Three years ago, Daniel Carter had donated an entire dormitory to Kingsley Prep so the son of Rachel Miller, the girl he had grown up with, could get in. The building had cost at least seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars.

I remembered exactly what Daniel had told our son before the Northview entrance exam.

"A man earns his own future, Noah. If you can't win a place at Northview Academy, you'll go to trade school. I'm not buying your way in anywhere."

At the time, I had never hidden the fact that our family was wealthy. Noah had looked hurt.

"Dad, if we can afford it, why can't I just study abroad?"

Daniel had slammed his fork onto the table. When he grabbed Noah by the collar, the designer label inside his shirt showed.

"That shirt costs more than some people earn in a month," Daniel snapped. "I ask one thing of you - work hard in school - and you can't even do that?"

"But I already passed the language tests..." Noah muttered.

"Enough. Most kids don't get a dozen different paths handed to them. You'll take the exam like everyone else, and you'll earn your place."

My heart had ached for Noah, but I understood my husband. Daniel had grown up with nothing. He claimed to despise privilege more than anything.

When he first learned that I was the Bennett heiress, he barely spoke to me for a month. He did not accept that I was different from the other trust-fund kids he hated until he watched me take an entry-level job at Bennett Holdings and work harder than everyone around me.

So when Noah developed a taste for expensive clothes and limited-edition collectibles, I believed Daniel was trying to stop him from becoming entitled.

That was the first day my husband ever shouted at me.

"We're leaving the villa tonight. If we don't correct this while he's still in high school, who knows what kind of selfish man he'll become?"

Fortunately, Noah rose to the challenge. After one intense month of preparation, he earned a place at Northview Academy, the most competitive public magnet school in the city.

To make sure he stopped thinking of himself as a rich kid, Daniel told him Bennett Holdings had collapsed and that his own company was struggling too. According to Daniel, there was no money for tuition anywhere. Winning the Whitfield Scholarship - a full ride awarded on a single two-day examination at the end of senior year - was now Noah's only way into a university at all.

Our son seemed to grow up overnight.

He stopped asking for new sneakers. He never mentioned studying abroad again. He watched us move into a cramped, aging walk-up and sell everything valuable we appeared to own. He even let go of every collectible he loved.

Night after night, I found him hunched over the narrow desk beside his twin bed, studying past midnight.

Whenever I begged him to sleep, he hugged me and said, "I'll work harder, Mom. I'll get us out of this place and give you a good life again."

Remembering it now made my heart twist.

Anger surged through me. I called Daniel.

The moment he answered, I said, "Why did you donate a dormitory to Kingsley Prep?"