Chapter 1The $1.5 Lemonade That Cost Him Everything

After we got engaged, my fiancé, Daniel, handed me a black card and told me to buy whatever I wanted.

I bought a dollar-fifty lemonade. He blew up at me on the spot.

"Charlotte, for God's sake, the Kane family needs a matriarch who can command a room, not some country bumpkin who's afraid to spend money."

"Everything you do reflects on us now. I can't afford the embarrassment."

I broke off the engagement. He turned around and proposed to Ava, a student from a low-income family that he was sponsoring.

Five years later, we ran into each other at a kindergarten drop-off.

Daniel stepped out of a Maybach, holding hands with a beaming Ava. When he saw me and my son buying a popsicle from a street vendor, he stormed over, his voice a furious roar.

"Charlotte! You're letting my son eat that garbage? Can't you ever shake off that cheap, backwater trash you came from?"

I frowned. "He's not your son."

He squinted, studying the boy, then let out a derisive snort. "He's that handsome. How could he not be mine?"

I didn't bother to explain.

My son has his father's eyes and nose, but the rest of him is all me. What does that have to do with Daniel Kane?

…

At pickup time, Daniel's black Maybach was parked ostentatiously at the school gate, drawing a crowd of curious parents.

"Look! Isn't that Daniel Kane, the CEO of Oakhaven Group?"

"Oh my god, his kid goes here?"

"No way, this is just a regular public kindergarten. Someone at his level wouldn't..."

Daniel's brow furrowed in annoyance, and he started to turn back to the car.

Ava quickly stepped in, her voice soft and placating. "Excuse me, everyone, could you please give us some space? My fiancé is a little particular about his personal space and isn't used to crowds. Thank you."

She offered a gentle smile. "We're just here to pick up my nephew. I hope you don't get the wrong idea. We're not married yet."

Daniel leaned in, his voice low and meant only for her. "Get the kid and let's go. We have that meeting with the Ashtons later."

In the high-stakes world of New York's elite, paying respects to the formidable Ashton family was a mandatory rite of passage. No one dared to be late.

Ava nodded obediently. "Of course, darling. I know how many strings you had to pull to get a meeting with Mr. Ashton. I won't let anything get in the way." She paused, her voice laced with curiosity. "I hear Mr. Ashton is devoted to his wife and kids, keeps them completely out of the spotlight. I wonder who Mrs. Ashton is?"

Daniel ignored her, leaning against the car door with his hands in his pockets, the picture of arrogant nonchalance.

He looked exactly the same as the day he'd cast me aside.

I remembered it clearly. The words "I'm breaking up with you" had barely left my lips before he was down on one knee, proposing to Ava. I hadn't even made it out the door before they were locked in a passionate kiss.

For the longest time, I couldn't understand it. Four years together, from college sweethearts to fiancés. How could he end it so cleanly, so cruelly?

It wasn't until Ava sent me that text message later that I finally understood. My four years with him had been nothing but a joke.

"Mommy, I want a popsicle!"

My son's tug on my sleeve snapped me back to the present.

The vendor was glaring at me impatiently. "Are you buying this or not? If not, give it back!"

I looked down and saw that the popsicle in my hand had already started to melt. "I'm so sorry. I'll take this one. Can I have another one, please? I'll pay for both."

His face contorted in a sudden rage. "Who do you think you're looking down on? You think I need your charity? Take your damn melted popsicle and get lost! Don't bring your bad luck around here!"

His aggressive tone made my son burst into tears.

Every head turned in our direction.

Daniel glanced over, his sharp, dark eyes meeting mine. For a split second, something flickered in their depths. Then, just as quickly, it was gone. He looked away, as if he hadn't seen me at all.

My son clung to my leg, sobbing uncontrollably. I had no choice but to hand him the melting popsicle.

"Just a little taste, okay?"

Just as he was about to lick it, Daniel spun around.

He stared at us, his chest heaving as if he could no longer contain himself. He strode over and slapped the popsicle out of my son's hand.

"Charlotte, you're feeding my son this garbage?!" he snarled, wiping his fingers with a silk handkerchief as if he'd touched something vile. "You'll never get rid of that cheap trashiness that's in your bones!"

My son's cries escalated into terrified wails. I knelt and pulled him into my arms, trying to soothe him.

Daniel's hand hesitated in mid-air, then retracted sharply. His voice, when he spoke again, was softer.

"Why... why didn't you tell me you were pregnant?"