He Picked The Wrong Side

My mother-in-law and I were traveling together. We'd just checked into the Solenne Hotel in Rivera City and decided to hit the pool. Then this woman—dressed like money and attitude—pinched her nose like we stank. "This is a luxury hotel. How did you people even get in? Sneak in just for the pool? Ugh, I need a test after this." Buzzkill. I snapped, "It's a hotel pool. Guests swim. If that's a problem, go build your own." Her face twisted. "Excuse me? Do you even know who I am? My husband owns this place. We always stay in the top suite. So get out. You reek of broke. You're contaminating the water." Georgina and I traded a look. Ice cold. This was her son's hotel. My husband's. Since when did he come with a second wife?

End of the year. I was gonna use my bonus to treat Mom to a quick getaway. Instead? No bonus. Four hundred bucks sliced off my paycheck. I shot the HR supervisor a notice—three days to pay up. She laughed. Called me dramatic. Fired me right then. Coworkers backed her. Said I brought it on myself. Said I didn't care about the company. What they didn't see? I laughed the second I got that termination letter. Double severance? Come to mama.

While I was driving my bus, I spotted my boyfriend's car ahead. He was kissing the woman he had always been hung up on. I could not help tapping the horn. That was all it took. He and his dream girl stepped out and blocked my bus in the middle of the road. I glanced at the passengers behind me. I could not afford to delay everyone, so I swallowed my pride and asked him to move his car. She lifted her chin, her voice dripping with arrogance. “Not happening. Unless you get off that bus and apologize to me right here, you're not going anywhere.” Traffic was completely jammed. There was no way forward and no way back. My face went pale, but I had no choice except to lower my head and prepare to apologize. My boyfriend grew impatient. "Why are you still standing there? Get down and apologize to Sally. Right now." Humiliated, I inched my way towards the door. However, the doors unexpectedly swung open and the passengers rushed out of the bus. “Do you think we have time for this? I'm already late for school. Are you going to take responsibility?” “My perfect attendance this month is ruined because of you. You two are unbelievable!” “If you shameless idiots want to act like this, don't blame us for getting physical!”

My boyfriend's childhood friend declared herself the ultimate 'socialite fraud buster' the very first time we met. She would not stop lecturing me at the dinner table. "Women really shouldn't overdress. If Sean hadn't told me himself that you were his girlfriend, I would've written you off as just another one of those fake socialites I've exposed." My boyfriend nodded along eagerly. "You really do dress too flashy. Just listen to Gina and tone it down a little." I could not be bothered to engage, so I excused myself to the restroom, but I ended up overhearing Georgina Lawson's little 'fraud assessment' from right outside the door. "Sean, this woman's walk, the way she talks… All of it screams training. She's a classic case of a fake socialite. She's only with you for your money! That watch, the limited-edition bag, that sports car worth tens of millions... What doctor could possibly afford all that?" Fury burned through me, and I finally reached my limit. I turned around and called my father, the richest man in the city. "Dad, wire me 50 million dollars. I'm buying out a little fraud-busting studio that targets 'fake socialities' to teach her that rich people have children too!"

When she was 18, Helen met Manzitti, the man of her dreams. Two weeks later he proposed and she was thrilled, until she learned from her father that he apparently had ulterior motives for wanting to marry her. She ran away and went on with her life. Two years later, a supposed business trip with her boss turns into a nightmare when she realizes that Manzitti, still wanting revenge for the wrong her father did, and for her leaving him, arranged her trip and is now forcing her to stay and marry him.

On my twentieth birthday, my parents placed a stack of photos in front of me—eligible bachelors from elite families all over the country—and told me to pick one for an arranged marriage. I told my dad to leave it to fate and draw lots. In my past life, I had chosen without hesitation the man I’d long admired: Lucas Whitmore, the most eligible bachelor of Astor Hill's elites. But after we got married, I found out the truth. His first love—the girl he had always held dear, Claire Monroe—was devastated by our marriage. One night, heartbroken, she went out drinking and was assaulted by a group of thugs. Claire attempted suicide three times after that. And Lucas blamed it all on me. He handed over my family’s fortune to Claire, draining every last cent from the Meyers. In the end, Lucas even helped her cut the brake lines on our car. My parents and I died in that crash. Now that I’d been given a second chance at life, the name I drew was Liam Morgan—the reclusive heir from Orchard Valley, known for shunning the world and dedicating himself to Buddhism. But when I showed up arm-in-arm with Liam at our engagement party, Lucas lost his mind.