Chapter 1

I'm very rich.

My dad always says there's no problem in this world that money can't solve.

And if there is, it just means you don't have enough of it.

But my boyfriend Damien Hayes is an exception.

When I pick him up in my sports car, he complains I'm too flashy.

When I take him to Michelin-starred restaurants, he says I'm wasteful.

To "toughen me up," he forces me to live like an ordinary student.

For three years, I've worn thrift store clothes, squeezed onto subways with him, and eaten the cheapest meals on campus—only to face his endless criticism anyway.

This time, to celebrate his scholarship award, I secretly booked a slightly nicer restaurant.

I never expected him to publicly scold me for being "incorrigible."

When he threatens to break up with me yet again, demanding I apologize for the sake of his ridiculous pride, I'm exhausted.

"Then let's break up!" I say decisively.

Hearing my response, Damien pauses mid-slice through his steak, then lets out a contemptuous laugh.

"Vivian, are you serious?"

He clearly doesn't take my words seriously.

After all, for three years, whenever we've disagreed over spending, it's always ended with me compromising.

I've cried while returning limited edition bags I just bought, sworn never to eat a meal costing over two hundred dollars again—all just to get him to take back that cold, dismissive "let's break up."

But this time, I'm truly done.

A while back, when the class president hinted that I'd be receiving financial aid for underprivileged students and told me not to worry, I suddenly realized what a joke I'd become.

The heiress of the Hayes Group, reduced to dust for Damien's sake.

I lift my head and look him straight in the eye, repeating myself.

"Damien, I'm serious. We're breaking up."

A rare flash of confusion crosses Damien's face.

When he realizes what I've said, his voice turns ice-cold.

"Because I won't let you waste money? Because I criticized you a few times, you're going to make a scene?"

"Vivian, I made you take the subway and eat street food to cure you of your spoiled, privileged attitude—to teach you to be down-to-earth. Your attitude right now is extremely disappointing."

If this were before, hearing the word "disappointing" would have sent me into a panic.

But now I just find it laughable.

"Yes, I'm quite disappointing. Since that's the case, let's part on good terms. You can find a girlfriend who suits you better—everyone wins."

I think I'm being perfectly reasonable. Since our values don't align, we might as well separate amicably.

The designer watches and sneakers I've given him over the years were worth at least several million dollars, but I don't plan to make an issue of it.

Damien, however, turns red with anger and suddenly stands up.

"I always thought you were just a bit spoiled. I never imagined you'd be so stubborn—now you're actually threatening me with a breakup."

"I'm only saying this for your own good. Sure, your family has money, but did you earn a single cent of it? I'm teaching you not to squander your parents' hard-earned money. If you had even one-tenth of Lydia's frugality and simplicity, I wouldn't have to lecture you constantly."

I can't help but roll my eyes.

He's the one who brought up breaking up—I'm just agreeing—yet somehow I'm the one threatening him.

I give him a cold look. "Since you think Lydia is so frugal and simple, why don't you go after her? Why do we need to make things difficult for each other?"

Lydia Monroe is Damien's junior in his department. Ever since she enrolled, Damien has constantly compared me to her.

Even taking me to street stalls and making me squeeze onto trains during rush hour were Lydia's suggestions—supposedly to "help rid me of my extravagant airs." I never wanted any of it.

At the mention of Lydia, Damien reacts like a cat whose tail has been stepped on—he explodes.

He grabs his backpack violently, scraping his chair with a harsh screech that makes several nearby diners turn to look.

"Vivian, you're completely unreasonable!"

"Think about what you've done over this meal. When you've written a five-thousand-word reflection and recognized your own vanity, then come find me."

With that, he storms off without looking back.

This is the first time I've seen Damien this angry.

He's known on campus as the aloof genius student, while I'm the airheaded rich girl with no brains. Back then, it was only because my dad donated a building to the school that I got in through the back door.

When I first arrived on campus, all I wanted was a sweet romance, and I happened to set my sights on Damien in the crowd.

We're supposedly dating, yet he criticizes everything about me. I feel wronged too—it's not my fault my family has money, and being born wealthy is a gift from my parents.

But he treats it like original sin, constantly belittling and suppressing me.

For three years, I've walked on eggshells around him, terrified of accidentally displaying wealth and upsetting him.

I thought his noble disdain for money was a rare quality.

Now I see clearly—it's just arrogance born from extreme insecurity. By attacking my lifestyle, he gains a sense of psychological superiority.

I've had enough of this.

I pull out my phone and send my dad a message on SnapChat.

"Dad, about that suggestion from before—I agree."

For three years, I've fought with my dad constantly over Damien.

A while back, Dad carefully asked if I wanted to meet the Shaw family's son who'd returned from abroad, saying he'd decline if I didn't want to.

Back then, I was all about freedom in love. Looking back now, I was adorably stupid.

Rather than lowering myself and still being criticized constantly, I might as well find someone from a matching background—at least we'd share the same values and wouldn't fight over a few hundred dollars for a meal.