Loving You Was a Dead End
Language: en
On my first date with billionaire's son Leo Maxwell, he mocked my $200 dress—saved from months of part-time work—calling it cheap polyester that would "shock" him. He made me take it off and burned it. Left shivering in the snow in a thin top, I endured laughter from him and his cashmere-coated friends. The next day, he blocked me with his Ferrari at school, loudly apologizing with a Van Cleef necklace. "Country folks aren't picky about fabric. Use this for better clothes, or my card." Amidst stares and whispers, I refused the gift and broke up with him. He smirked. "Still upset? Name your…