Chapter 1 - The Price of Admission
I had paid nearly six thousand dollars for the luxury lake house outside Charlotte where Jason’s family was spending the long weekend. I paid for the rental. I paid for the groceries. I paid for the top-shelf alcohol currently flowing freely at the outdoor bar. I had even paid for the expensive catered breakfast his mother, Linda, had insisted was “absolutely necessary” for a proper family gathering.
Yet somehow, despite bankrolling the entire vacation, I had spent the entirety of Saturday cooking, cleaning, and serving twenty people while everyone else relaxed beside the pool.
The April air was carrying a bitter chill as the sun began to set, but the patio heaters kept Jason’s family warm while they lounged. I was exhausted. My feet ached, my clothes smelled like barbecue smoke, and I had just finished clearing the main dining table when Linda walked up and shoved another heavy stack of dirty, grease-stained plates into my hands.
“I’m sitting for a while,” I said quietly, setting the plates down on the nearest counter.
Linda’s expression instantly hardened, her eyes narrowing as if I had just slapped her. “Excuse me?”
“I paid for this weekend,” I replied, my voice steady but exhausted. “I’ve cooked all day. Someone else can clean up tonight.”
The lively chatter on the patio abruptly died. Twenty heads turned in our direction.
Jason looked over from the outdoor bar, a glass of expensive whiskey—my expensive whiskey—in his hand. His jaw clenched in that familiar, condescending way. “Megan, apologize to my mother.”
I stared at him. For nine years, I had swallowed their passive-aggressive comments about my career, my clothes, and my supposed inability to “act like a proper wife.” And every single time I had complained to Jason in private, he gave me the exact same cowardly answer: “You know how my family is, Megan. Just let it go.”
But this time, looking at his smug face and his mother’s entitled sneer, I shook my head. “No.”
His eyebrows lifted in genuine shock.
Linda laughed, a sharp, ugly sound that cut through the silence. “She thinks making more money than you means she can disrespect everybody in this family.”
“I didn’t disrespect anyone,” I said, crossing my arms. “I just stopped volunteering to be your servant.”
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Jason’s face darkened into an ugly scowl. He looked at me, then looked toward his two burly cousins, Ryan and Kyle, who were lounging near the deep end of the pool. A cruel, malicious smile slowly spread across his lips.
“You guys want to help Megan cool off?”
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