Chapter 2: The Heiress’s Dilemma

I'm the throwaway rich girl in this novel.

I always knew my role: the girl with too much money and just enough sense to know she’s not the main character. Our family’s been wealthy since my great-great-grandfather’s time.

He started out in railroads, then real estate, then whatever old money thing folks in this part of Connecticut did. You know those sepia-toned ancestor photos in law offices? That’s us—cold stares, stiff collars, and all.

To avoid becoming a walking cliché, I learned early on to never start a business and to stay far, far away from the main characters.

My grandma used to say, “Don’t draw attention, Lillian. Let other people chase the drama.” So I perfected the art of smiling at the right moments and fading into the background, all while hiding designer sneakers under my desk.

But what can I do? The world revolves around the main guy and girl. Even money bows to their gravity…

It’s like physics here: wherever Aubrey Summers and Caleb Foster go, the universe tilts. So, my dad became friends with the male lead’s father. When he suggested I get engaged to the male lead, I flat-out refused.

I’d seen enough rich-people drama on TikTok to know how those stories end: the heiress gets tossed aside. Isn’t this just the fate of a villainous side character, sacrificed for the plot?

I’m a supporting character. I’ve long accepted that.

Every YA novel needs a sacrificial lamb. Turns out, my name’s on the butcher’s list. I’m just a bystander—insignificant, disposable—

So I carefully hinted that I was actually seeing a college guy on the side.

I even staged a few fake texts, letting my phone screen light up during family dinner. My dad looked mortified.

He gritted his teeth and said, “Fine, have your fun outside, but don’t bring him home.”

He tried to sound stern, but I could tell he was relieved. Better for me to act like a rebellious daughter than get sucked into the main character’s plotline.

To make it believable, I started searching campus for someone who needed cash and had nothing to do with the main group.

I’d scroll through the campus job board, eyeing anyone who checked the boxes: broke, invisible, preferably allergic to the main clique. Just as I left the classroom, someone tapped me on the shoulder.

It was Aubrey Summers, the main girl. She looked a little down and said, “I heard you’re getting engaged to Caleb Foster? Congratulations.”

My world nearly collapsed.

I froze like a deer in headlights. I flailed my hands. “No, seriously, no! That’s just my dad social climbing. I don’t even know Caleb Foster! Honestly, if my dad wanted to get engaged to him, I wouldn’t care!”

My panic actually made Aubrey laugh.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her smile soft but unreadable—like she was deciding if she believed me. She said a few casual words and left, leaving me standing there, still clutching my chest in lingering terror.

"Excuse me." I looked up to see Marcus Reed, the cold-faced poor student, walking over.

He barely glanced my way, so I shuffled aside, pretending to check my phone.

I followed his gaze and saw he was staring at the list of students eligible for financial aid, posted on the wall behind me.

The first name was his: Marcus Reed.

His eyelids drooped, lost in thought.

When he noticed me watching, he looked back.

Thick brows, sharp jawline, those deep brown eyes fixed on mine.

There was a storm in those eyes, as if he could see right through me—and knew I didn’t really belong to his world, not the way he did.