I grew up surrounded by wealth, the daughter of a real estate mogul. When I met David at a charity fundraiser, he seemed refreshingly uninterested in my family’s fortune. He was charming, driven, and full of dreams. I fell hard and fast.

“David needs time to establish himself,” I explained to my father when he questioned why my new husband hadn’t signed the prenup. “I trust him.”

My father’s concerned frown should have been my first warning. “Sophia,” he’d said, “love shouldn’t require financial sacrifice. Remember that.”

I didn’t listen. I paid off his student loans as an anniversary gift. I bought the house he wanted. Each time he claimed a setback in his consulting business, I wrote another check, believing in the partnership I thought we were building. My sister, Amelia, tried to warn me too. “He asks about our family trusts a lot, Soph. It’s odd.” I dismissed her concerns as overprotectiveness.