I never let my family know that I was the one keeping them wrapped in luxury. In their eyes, I was only a “peasant baker” with hands dusted in flour. They cut me from my sister’s engagement party for “ruining the aesthetic,” then expected me to cater everything for nothing after their chef walked out. My sister shouted that I envied her rich fiancé. Then the front door opened. Her fiancé had arrived—the billionaire hotel tycoon. He strode past them and bowed to me. “Ms. Abigail,” he said. “Your father has blocked my multi-million-dollar partnership proposals for months.” I met my parents’ horrified eyes, removed my apron, and simply offered the fiancé a coffee. “The engagement is over,” he said. “And the bakery is shut down.” – News