I found him.
The mysterious “Stranger” from Vegas.
The father of my child.

The man whose family sits at the top one percent—old money, old power, old secrets.

His father took one look at me and dismissed me like gum stuck to the bottom of his Italian loafer.

His mother didn’t bother dressing her contempt in pearls and manners; she told me exactly what she thought of people like me.

It was royalty meets riffraff… with no middle ground.