Dad Sent Apples, My Boyfriend Called Me Trash

I'm broke and hungry, I texted my family. After thirty minutes, all I got was a photo of a bag of apples, followed by a voice message from my dad: Picked these myself this morning. Had someone deliver them to you.
Liam, my boyfriend who was serving me dinner, froze. Your dads an upstate apple farmer? So youre not from some old-money city family? I shook my head, confused.
He eyed my Chanel outfit with dawning disgust. "This is a university, not a brothel. Youre just a peasant buying knockoffs to trap a rich guy," he sneered before walking away.
The words My family practically built this city caught in my throat. Tears welling, I pulled the black card from the plastic bag where it lay tossed beside the apples and played the rest of Dads message: "Your hotels Christmas apple-picking event is a huge hit. The hotels in your name nowthe cards your bonus."
Just then, Liam posted my photo in a campus group chat with the caption: "Sugar baby, 9/10 condition. Delicate. Best offer."
With shaking hands, I canceled the $50,000 monthly grant my dad had been anonymously sending him.
If he looks down on me for relying on my family, he shouldnt rely on them either.

"A GOLD DIGGER'S DIARY! FAKE SOCIALITE TREATS CAMPUS KING LIKE A DOG!"
My fingers went numb the moment I clicked the link.
Liam's "heartbreaking expos" was the top post.
"These past three months have been a complete joke," he wrote. "She told me her father ran a 'small business.' Turns out he grows apples upstate! I spent my scholarship money taking her to fancy dinners while she was parading around in fake designer clothes."
Below the post were screenshots of our chats.
"Check-in! 34976! Send me a selfie video with the hand sign!"
The post showed days of these "check-ins," and the comment section exploded.
"So controlling! Lily Monroe is a psycho!"
"OMG, is our campus king getting PUA'd?"
"Someone tag the Dean's office! Shouldn't this trash be expelled for moral corruption?"
Someone else quickly posted a picture of me eating bread in the evening.
"Look at her! Eating plain bread just to afford knockoffs! So pathetic!"
I sighed and typed a reply: "That was my pre-workout meal."
The chat went silent for a beat before a new wave of mockery crashed over me.
"Now she's pretending to be a fitness guru?"
"A single session with her trainer costs a thousand bucks! Where would a peasant like her get that kind of money?"
"Poor Liam! She scammed his heart and his money!"
My nails dug into my palms.
The screenshots were deliberately incomplete.
He conveniently left out the part where every video he sent was followed by a wire transfer from me for the exact amount he'd signaled.
But now, he was twisting my affection into proof of his victimhood.
What sent a true chill down my spine was the marketplace link that popped up minutes later.
"Sugar baby, 9/10 condition. Delicate and soft. Best offer."
Tears pricked my eyes as I scrolled through the comments, which were overwhelmingly sympatheticto him.
"Our boy is heartbroken! A real heiress needs to come and save him!"
Liam had even "accidentally" leaked my contact information.
My phone immediately froze, overwhelmed by a flood of friend requests and hateful messages.
Words I had never seen before filled the screen. I'd been sheltered and adored my whole life; I'd never heard such filth.
My hands shook as I tried to message Liam, but then I saw his latest comment on the forum.
"I loved her once," he wrote calmly. "That's why I'm helping her find her next client. I can't bear to see her with nothing."
I let out a bitter laugh. Nothing. He wasn't entirely wrong. I had poured all my personal funds into the Christmas event for the new hotel I'd acquired. I had planned to give him the hotel as a birthday gift.
Not anymore.
I looked at the last message on my screen from Liam: "Fake sugar baby. We're done."
I sent a voice message to my father.
"Dad, that fifty-thousand-dollar anonymous monthly grant for Liam..."
"Cancel it."
If he despises me for being a sugar baby
Then he can stop being one himself.
That silver spoon? I'll smash it for you.
The moment the message sent, my father called.
"Sweetheart, what's wrong? Fifty thousand is nothing." His tone was light, but he must have sensed my silence, because his voice immediately hardened. "Did that boy hurt you?"
A lump formed in my throat. I'd only asked my father to set up the "anonymous grant"which was just the daily interest from one of his savings accountsbecause I saw that Liam was poor but driven, and I didn't want to hurt his pride.
My father's voice was cold as ice. "Power and money are the best gifts for a girl. A man is just an accessory. If he doesn't suit you, find a new one."
His tone shifted, a hint of a smile in his voice. "Speaking of which, the Sterling Group is begging for a partnership with your hotel. You should meet them as the new owner. It'll be a good distraction."
"Okay."
The dark cloud over me began to lift.
I went to my closet to get dressed, but it was empty.
My roommate, Megan, leaned against the doorframe, a smirk on her face.
"Well, well, if it isn't the campus queen. Going to beg Liam for forgiveness?" she drawled. "Or... which sugar daddy are you visiting tonight?"
Her eyes raked over me. "It must be nice to be pretty. Just spread your legs and someone pays the bills. Slut."
My fists clenched, my heart turning to ice. When her father was sick, I had transferred her ten thousand dollars without a second thought.
I took a deep breath. "If you have so much shame, Megan, you can start by paying me back the ten thousand you owe me."
The color drained from her face.
I soon understood the source of her newfound confidence.
BANG!
The dorm room door was kicked open by Chloe, the Student Council President.
Megan scurried over to her, grinning obsequiously.
My eyes followed her gaze, and my stomach dropped.
All of my clothes were in a trash can in the hallway, drenched in bright red paint.
My gaze fell on a stained white dress in the corner. My vision went red. It was a birthday gift, designed by my late mother. Now it was trampled in a puddle of filthy water.
I lunged for it, but Chloe stuck out her foot, tripping me. I fell hard, and she planted her shoe on the back of my hand, grinding her heel into my knuckles.
Megan pointed at the ruined clothes. "Chloe says she's never seen these designs before. They're all fakes. Let me tell you, one of Chloe's handbags is worth more than your entire family's lives!"
I laughed, a sharp, humorless sound. My clothes were sent directly from the designers. There were maybe three of each piece in the entire country. Of course someone of her social standing had never seen them.
Chloe looked down at me, her voice dripping with condescension. "As Student Council President, I have a duty to uphold the standards of this campus. Someone get her things off that bed and throw them out!"
I struggled, trying to reach my phone to call my dad.
Chloe kicked me again, sending my phone smashing against the wall. "Trying to call Liam? Want to play the victim?"
She pinned my wrist with her foot and mockingly opened Liam's social media. The latest post was a picture of his hand intertwined with hers.
The caption read: "The struggle is over. I've found my true love."
Chloe's smile was triumphant. "My family's company is signing a deal with the Kanes tonight. What do you have that can compete with me?"
I froze. The Kanes? Was that the partnership my father mentioned?
Chloe's hand came swinging toward my face. I summoned all my strength and screamed, "Chloe! Go ask your fatherif you don't let me go right now, your deal is dead!"
Her palm connected with my cheek, and the world went dark.
"Bitch! I'm going to make you watch as my family climbs to the top on the Kanes' coattails!"
When I came to, I was staring through a floor-to-ceiling window at the iconic rooftop garden of my own hotel.
"You're awake?" Chloe's voice came from behind me. "The Kane heiress will be here soon. Liam told me you're very... flexible. A good little dancer."
"Miss Kane enjoys dancing, too."
The tape was ripped from my mouth, and I coughed violently.
"Give Miss Kane a good 'performance' later," she said, patting my cheek. "If she's happy, I might even arrange for your father to be a janitor at my house. One month of his salary would be more than your family makes in a year of digging in the dirt."
The door slammed shut. Megan stood guard outside.
Seeing my chance, I broke free of my restraints and slipped into a service corridor.
I had to get to the top floor, to my dad.
As I passed the banquet hall, a wave of dizziness washed over me. I hadn't eaten properly in three days, consumed by the Christmas project.
On a side table sat a tureen of mushroom soup, still warm. My father's favorite, prepared just for me.
I picked up a spoon, and a tear splashed into the broth.
CRACK!
A splitting pain shot through the back of my head. My face was shoved into the scalding hot soup.
"Miss Kane hasn't even arrived, and a piece of trash like you dares to eat?"
Chloe yanked my hair, slamming my head against the rim of the bowl again and again. "I'll let you drink! Drink it all!"
Hot soup and blood flooded my throat. I was suffocating.
Just as Chloe raised her hand to slap me again, someone grabbed her wrist.
Liam. His brow was furrowed. "That's enough."
His gaze drifted to the decorative apples on the table, and he seemed to recognize the logo on them. He reached out to take a closer look, but Chloe looped her arm through his.
"Liam, you're here!" she cooed. "It's our first day as a couple! I want you to meet the Kanes!"
I used the distraction to scramble for my shattered phone, but Megan snatched it away.
"Calling for backup?" Chloe sneered, slapping me again. "I guess you haven't learned your lesson!"
I spat out a mouthful of blood. "I am a Kane," I said, each word an effort. "Stop now, and you might just live."
In the struggle, my black card fell from my pocket.
Liam bent down to pick it up. The moment his eyes landed on the embossed gold Kane family crest, his pupils shrank to pinpricks.
Megan's lip trembled. "Chloe could she really be?"
Chloe stomped her stiletto onto my fingers. I heard the faint crack of bone. "Don't be an idiot! The Kane heiress isn't named Monroe!"
I'd used my mother's maiden name since I was a child. It was a detail few people outside our inner circle knew.
Chloe snatched the card from Liam. "Did your dirt-farmer dad find this in a ditch? Or did you dig it out of your dead mother's grave?"
She accidentally woke my shattered phone screen. A picture of me and my father filled the display.
The next second, her hand cracked across my face again.
"Perfect. I was wondering what to get Miss Kane as a welcoming gift. It's a well-known fact that Mr. Kane adores his daughter. If I kill his secret little mistress and present the body to the real Miss Kane, he'll probably applaud."
She stared at the smile on my face in the photo, then gave Megan a look.
"Go on. Carve out those cute little dimples for me."
The cold tines of a fork pierced my cheek. The pain was so intense I almost passed out.
Liam started to intervene, then stopped himself. "Chloe's doing this for your own good, Lily. If Miss Kane finds out about you, it'll be much worse. I'm disappointed. I thought you were just a poser, but you're just pathetic trash."
My mouth throbbed. Chloe smiled, satisfied. "Now you look like a proper clown."
She waved a hand.
Her bodyguards swarmed me, lifted me up, and threw me into the nearby swimming pool.
"Give her a good wash," Chloe's laughter echoed across the water. "When Miss Kane arrives, she can see for herself what kind of shameless bitch tries to crawl into her father's bed!"

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