At our lavish engagement party, I watched from the balcony as my fiancée purposefully sh0ved my mother into the decorative fountain. “Your cheap clothes are ruining my aesthetic,” she laughed with her rich friends.

Celeste rolled her eyes. “She was crowding the photographs. Honestly, Adrian, this party cost three million dollars. Standards matter.” Party& Holiday Supplies

I met her eyes and felt something in me turn cold.

Three hours earlier, I had signed documents creating a ten-million-dollar trust in Celeste’s name, contingent on our marriage. It was meant to ensure her independence, though she had called it “a charming beginning.” The papers were still in my attorney’s secure portal.

I took out my phone.

Celeste brightened, assuming I was arranging damage control.