The Haters Say I'm Fake, But the Tycoon Heir Loves Me Best​

Summary

My grandfather raised me on scraps, pulling me from the refuse of the world. I knew the bitter taste of poverty all too well.

To marry into wealth, I armed myself with designer shopping bags bought from eBay and rented luxury purses for five dollars a day. My days were spent drifting through art galleries, my nights curled up in the waiting areas of five-star hotels.

After six months of playing the part of a phantom heiress, a man finally approached me.

It was him. The one I’d seen in Forbes last month: Michael Astor, the scion of a New York dynasty.