He Demanded a Prenup, So I Bought His Entire Empire

Tonight was my third date with Derek, and it was going to be my last.

On our first two dates, I deliberately hid my background as an heiress. I wore cheap off-the-rack sundresses and told him I was just an entry-level marketing coordinator making four thousand a month.

He had sneered and said, "Four grand? In New York, that barely covers groceries."

"Don't worry, though," he added smugly. "I make two million a year. I have more than enough to take care of you."

I almost thought I had found someone genuine—until he laid down his conditions.