Because he knew perfectly well who had done that.
Patricia Montgomery.
My future mother-in-law.
A woman raised among old money, exclusive clubs and an absolute conviction that she was better than everyone else.
From the day I met Daniel Montgomery at a charity gala four years ago, Patricia made it clear how much she despised me.
I was Emma Harrison.
My father was a high school history teacher.
My mother was a nurse.
We were not rich.
We were a normal family.
I worked two jobs to pay for college.
He lived in a small apartment.
And I devoted my life to my work as a social worker.
Daniel, a brilliant corporate lawyer, fell in love with me anyway.
But for Patricia I was an opportunist.
The first time we met, he watched me from top to bottom and stopped in my economic shoes.
So you are the social worker. What a noble.
He uttered the word “noble” as if it were a contagious disease.
For three years he fought a silent war.
I forgot to invite myself to family reunions.
She presented wealthy women to Daniel during social events.
And when Daniel proposed to me, the war got worse.
I wanted to control the whole wedding.
He demanded a huge ceremony.
He demanded an absurd guest list.
He demanded that he wear an old family dress.
I refused.
I'm going to marry your son, Patricia. If that embarrasses you, it's your problem, not mine.
She stopped talking to me for two months.
And then suddenly he changed.
He became kind.
Attenta.
He even offered to help.
Like a fool, I lowered my guard.
I allowed him to take care of one thing:
