Caramel Cone
My daughter, Emma Blackwood, was sick.
We were thirty thousand short of the treatment that could save her life.
My husband, Nathan Blackwood, looked devastated, his face tight with guilt. "Honey, I'm sorry. This is my fault. I don't have the money to save our daughter."
To pay for Emma's treatment, I worked four jobs daily, but during a restaurant shift, I saw Nathan rent the entire place to wine and dine another woman.
With a bright smile, she poured him a drink. "Mr. Blackwood, you are generous. You spend tens of millions like it's nothing. You can have any woman you want, so why marry some broke, low-class woman?"
Nathan slowly blew out a stream of smoke, his eyes full of contempt. "You wouldn't understand. Marrying a poor woman like that makes it fun.
"Watching her humiliate herself over a little money, working herself to the bone. It's entertaining."
My body went cold. I could barely breathe.
So Nathan had been a wealthy heir all along, pretending to be poor and lying to me from the start.
What he didn't know was this: I was the long-lost daughter of the richest family in the country. And with a single word from me, his entire world could be destroyed.