When His Family Pretended to Be Poor, I Pretended to Be Broke and Learned the Truth

We left the ranch house and got into my car—my real car that I’d parked down the street. It was a Mercedes G-Wagon, and Adrien just stared at it.

“This is yours?” he asked quietly.

I nodded. I told him I had a few cars and that this one was my favorite.

We drove in silence for a while before Adrien finally spoke.

“I’m so sorry. I had no idea they were going to do any of that.”

I reached over and took his hand. I told him I knew he didn’t, and if I’d thought he was in on it, I would have walked away the first night.

He was quiet for another minute.

“Why didn’t you tell me about your money?”

I pulled over into a parking lot so we could actually talk.

“For the same reason your family pretended not to have money, I guess. I wanted to know you loved me for me, not for what I could buy or provide.”

I told him I’d dated enough men who were more interested in my portfolio than my personality. Adrien nodded slowly.

“I get that. But you could have told me after you knew I wasn’t like that.”

I smiled and said I was planning to. I was actually going to tell him this weekend.

“I wanted to take you to my actual place, show you my life, let you in completely. Your family just sped up the timeline.”

Adrien looked at the steering wheel, processing everything.

“My family’s really rich, like really rich, and they pretended to be poor to test you. That’s insane.”

I laughed. It’s definitely creative.

“Most families just grill you over dinner or stalk your social media. Your family went method acting.”

Adrien asked where we were going now, and I said I was taking him to my penthouse downtown.

“You have a penthouse?” he asked, and I could hear the disbelief.

I told him I had a penthouse, a beach house, and the apartment he’d been staying at that I kept for when I wanted to feel normal.

“The apartment’s real,” I assured him. “It’s just not my only place.”

When we got to my building, Adrien was quiet in the elevator. The penthouse took up the entire top floor, and when we walked in, he just stood in the entryway staring at the floor-to-ceiling windows and the view of the city.

“This is really your place?” he asked, walking to the windows.

I kicked off my shoes and said it was. I bought it three years ago as an investment, but it ended up becoming my favorite space because the light is amazing.

Adrien turned to me with this expression I couldn’t quite read.

“Is this weird for you, seeing me process all this?”

I shook my head. I knew I’d have to tell him eventually.

“I just hoped it would be on my terms, not because your family forced the issue.”

We sat on the couch and I showed him my actual life on my phone. I showed him photos from board meetings, the sale announcement of my company, and articles written about my business success.

“You’re kind of famous,” he said, scrolling through search results for my name in business circles.

“Yeah, that’s why I’ve been careful about keeping my profile low when I’m not working. I wanted a break from being Sloan Whitmore, CEO, and just be Sloan who’s figuring out what she wants to do next.”

Adrien sat down my phone and looked at me.

“I love you—the broke freelancer version and the secret millionaire version. I just wish my family hadn’t ruined the way you found out.”

I know, I said, and kissed him. I told him his family hadn’t ruined anything; they actually did me a favor.

“I got to see exactly how much you value money, which is not at all. You defended me against your whole family without knowing I had a dollar to my name.”

Adrien pulled me closer.

“They’re going to call, probably a lot. They’re going to want to apologize and explain and make excuses.”

I told him he could handle that however he wanted. I wasn’t going to tell him how to deal with his family.

“I will say, though, if they want to make it right, they should start with some genuine self-reflection about why they thought testing me was appropriate in the first place.”

Adrien agreed, and we spent the rest of the evening talking about everything we hadn’t shared yet.

Over the next few days, Adrien’s phone blew up with calls and texts from his family. He ignored most of them but eventually read me some of the messages.

Diane had sent a long apology text saying she’d been terrified of Adrien getting hurt again and had let that fear turn her into someone she didn’t recognize. Richard sent a shorter message acknowledging they’d crossed a line and asking for a chance to make it right.

Veronica surprisingly sent the most genuine apology. She said seeing Adrien defend me had reminded her of how Richard used to defend Diane against their grandmother, and she realized they’d become exactly what they’d always claimed to hate.

Mitchell sent a text just saying:

“Your girlfriend is badass and I’m sorry we suck.”

That one made Adrien laugh. A week after the birthday dinner confrontation, Adrien finally agreed to meet with his parents.

I offered to come with him, but he said he needed to do this alone. He was gone for three hours, and when he came back to the penthouse, he looked exhausted but lighter somehow.

“They’re going to therapy,” he said, dropping onto the couch.

“All of them together. Family therapy to work on their trust issues and control problems.”

I asked how he felt about that, and he said it was a start. They admitted they’d let their wealth turn them paranoid.

They were so afraid of people using him for money that they created this test. And then when I passed by not caring about money, they panicked because they couldn’t imagine why else someone would be with their son except for financial gain.

I sat next to him and he leaned against me.

“Mom said something that stuck with me. She said, ‘When you’re rich, you start to wonder if anyone would love you if you had nothing.'”

So they created a scenario where they had nothing to see if I’d stay. But when I stayed, it broke their brains because their worldview said gold diggers only stick around for money.

I pointed out that their logic was flawed from the start. If I was a gold digger, I would have researched them first, found out they were rich, and played the part of someone who didn’t care about money.

“Their test was designed to catch amateurs.”

Adrien laughed for the first time since the birthday dinner.

“You kind of did research them and play a part, though.”

I admitted that was fair, but I played the part to see their true character, not to manipulate money out of them. There’s a difference.

About two weeks later, Diane called me directly. I almost didn’t answer, but curiosity won out.

She asked if I’d be willing to meet her for coffee, just the two of us. I agreed, mostly because I wanted to see if this apology would be genuine or another manipulation.

We met at a quiet cafe downtown, and Diane showed up looking nervous. She dropped the struggling mom costume and was dressed in her actual style: elegant, expensive, understated.

“Thank you for meeting me,” she started. “I wasn’t sure you would.”

I told her I was curious what she wanted to say. Diane took a breath.

“I’m not going to make excuses for what we did. It was manipulative and cruel, and we hurt both you and Adrien.”

She continued talking about how they’d dealt with several people over the years who’d tried to get close to their family for money. It made them paranoid and controlling.

“We stopped seeing people as individuals and started seeing everyone as a potential threat.”