He Was Just A Paid Replacement For My First Love
Language: en
My boyfriend had an hourly rate. Well, technically, a per-service rate. A hand-hold cost me eight hundred dollars. A hug, fifteen hundred. Dinner together, three thousand. Anything beyond that, seven thousand five hundred. In the five years we’d been together, I’d spent well into eight figures. My circle laughed at me, calling me an idiot, an open wallet. I didn’t care. Money? I had plenty of it. That changed when the Van Derlyn family’s long-lost biological daughter was finally found and welcomed home. My parents—who had raised me since birth—were afraid their real daughter would…