Sanam doesn’t realize that it’s not about money. It’s that I’m sick and tired of eating shit from men who think that, because they buy me nice things, I have to say yes to their demands. I’d explain this to her, but how can I? Sanam’s entire life is a transaction. She’ll be a good wife in the ways Reza expects, and in return, he’ll take care of her materially. She’s followed this pattern since college. Sure, the trips we took in our twenties to St. Barts and the South of France with handsome and rich men were fun. But, for me, that’s all it ever was—fun. As I got older, it became less and less so.

“We’ve always done everything together. I know we’ve separated some since I met Reza, but let’s get you on my train. All you have to do is pick one of his friends. You’re brilliant and beautiful and the nicest girl ever. It’s all so simple! The only person to convince is yourself.” The look in her eyes is full of honesty.

Before I can reply, Daniela comes over. Long red hair and completely coked up, she’s totally out of her mind. She just got out of rehab, but clearly, it didn’t help her. Anyway, I heard she’s leaving for South America to help her father do some business. Good riddance! She opens the flap of her designer purse and dips a black manicured nail inside. Slowly pulling it out so as not to spill a grain, she sprinkles white powder in Sanam’s palm. I try not to cringe over their blatant drug use. I love Sanam, but I hate some of the girls she surrounds herself with.

After she rubs the white crystals on her gums, it’s only moments before a bright, demonic smile fills Sanam’s face. Still, her crown continues to sparkle. On anyone else, it would look tacky—Bride-to-Be spelled out in shining, faux diamond letters. But, on Sanam, it’s perfection. She’s so attractive that, even drugged up and starving, she looks perfect.

“Most of Reza’s friends are assholes,” I add.

They’re all big in California and New York City real estate, and they come to my law firm for closings. Any chance they get, they hit on me. As the head legal secretary on the real estate transactional team, it’s my job to know every single client who works with the real estate attorneys. Unfortunately, it’s also my job to make sure they’re comfortable and happy. This means that, oftentimes, I have to plaster a smile on my face—even if it hurts.

“And they’d do anything to get into your pants. This has never bothered you before. What’s changed?” Her eyes plead before sparkling at someone or something over my shoulder.

I turn my head and groan. There’s a man behind me, tall and muscular, with an interested smirk on his face. He stares between the two of us, implication clear that he wouldn’t mind some fun with us both. I quickly turn away, not wanting to give him any ideas.