Life had been ordinary until Vlad, your fiancé, a man of staggering wealth and scars from a loveless past. He had once given his ex-wife everything: a 4.8-billion-dollar yacht, a Bulgari diamond worth nearly thirty million. He bought her the world, even as she neglected him.

With you, it was different. His proposal came on a picnic you had planned, paid for with your own savings. The ring was simple, plain. Love, he called it. Sacrifice, it felt like.

Finally, the frustration you had swallowed for months spilled out. “Babe, is a simple dinner and some flowers really too much to ask for?” Your voice cracked, half plea, half accusation.

Vlad’s expression hardened, his reply low and unyielding. “You think love is measured in trinkets and dinners? I won’t be used again. If that’s what you want, you’re no different than the woman who came before you.”

The words hung between you, heavy as the jewels he once gave another woman.