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Maybe I should apply the same rules to everyone. I’m learning men aren’t the only ones I can’t open my heart to. And there’s my problem.

I still own a part of me that wants to have a heart. I know I shouldn’t, but I’ve never been able to kill that part of myself off. I don’t know why because my feelings are never guarded or cared for.

Once again, my trust has been ripped right out from under me like a rug covering this cesspool that’s threatening to suck me in. I shouldn’t be surprised. By now, I should have seen it all coming.

I’ve lost count of how many times people have taken advantage of me. Someone is always playing the part so they can use me until they get what they want. First, they’re there, so concerned for my well-being, so helpful and invested. Then, I’m the villain when I don’t want to be used and shitted on.

“As if I’m not a fucking person,” I huff to myself.

It happens all the time. I give, and I give, and I give until that one action that causes me to take a pause and take notice that none of their actions are altruistic. It’s all covered in love bombs that I miss because my love and giving are authentic and from the heart. I never expect to be taken advantage of—because it’s not something I would do.

I’m a straight shooter. You’re with me or you’re not. If you’re not, then I’m gone. My life has no place for in-between.

Yup, I should have seen this coming. I should have, but I didn’t. Especially not Anika.

“My own sister,” I sob as I wrap my arms around my waist.

Well, she’s my half sister, but I’ve never treated her as such. I have been there whenever she’s needed me. I’ve given her whatever she’s needed. All she ever had to do was ask.

I think that’s why this hurts so much. Why steal from me when I would have given her the money? It’s funny how I can hear all her slick-ass comments so loud and clear now.

Most jokes are rooted in truths. Side comments that are meant to cut, but if you’re not in that headspace, you miss them completely. All thatmust be niceshit.

I didn’t hear it back then because it was coming from my baby sister. I remember being so happy when my mother brought her home. Now I want to send that bitch back.

“Bitch was smart enough to skip town. She knows I’m going to whoop that ass,” I say to myself through my sobs.

I never thought my sister would do this to me. For the last two years, she’s been working as my assistant. She’s the reason I found out my so-called friends weren’t around me because they cared, but because they benefited from my connections.

My social currency made me valuable to them. I opened doors they never would have walked through. While I thought I had people who were for me, they were obsessed with gaining clout.

I was too busy doing me to see it at the time, but my sister had my back, or so I thought. I always have so much on my plate. I don’t get time to be human, ever.

However, Anika … she is my family, my flesh and blood. I paid her well, even though my books haven’t been performing as well as they should be. Which is partly by design.

It’s better that I don’t blow up like some of my author friends. I don’t have that luxury. I need to remain under the radar.

Anika and I have the same mother. My dad and my mom broke up, not that long after I turned five. From what my mother says my father wanted different things from her.

I’ve never been able to understand that. Sure, if they wanted different things from each other, break up, fine. My problem has always been with the fact that my father abandoned me.

I went from having a loving, protective provider in my dad to nothing—he was just gone. However, my Uncle Freddie, my mother’s brother was a constant in my life. He became my father figure.

My uncle Freddie was a hustler. He embodied ambition and it rubbed off on me. If “get it out of the mud” were a person, that would be me. I’ve built something out of nothing all on my own more than once.

When I earned my first million, Uncle Freddie encouraged me to invest it, so I did. That first million turned into tens of millions and then it grew to hundreds.

By the time I turned twenty-six, I was able to invest in one of his ventures. A private airline fleet. It was in a bit of trouble before Uncle Freddie died unexpectedly.

I was devastated to lose my uncle. He made me who I am. He shaped the way I think and how I live.

I took his loss really hard, but I kept the venture going and turned it into a multimillion-dollar business only three years after my initial investment. That’s where the majority of my wealth comes from. My uncle was gone, but his best friends looked after and still look after what’s mine. I don’t need to write; I just love to.

I do it for myself. I do it for my sanity. I have never wanted for anything and earned everything I have. Now, as I think about it, I think Anika has always resented that.

“No wonder Mommy keeps her distance from your trifling ass,” I growl into the room. “Be careful of the beasts you awake, bitch.”

No matter how much I would do for Anika, it was never enough—almost like she felt I owed her something. I was made to feel guilty because I have a talent for making my own way. Anika always complained she didn’t get the same opportunities.