You have more money than you can ever spend in ten lifetimes, twice over. Old money, the kind that came with silent obligations, immense expectations and a suffocating pressure to be perfect. You were the family princess and that meant you had to be desirable, not in a loud centre of attention way, but in an effortlessly beautiful and charming way. Your father had left you in at the English countryside estate, with staff that didn’t speak your first language (Spanish) and the instructions to attend the polo tournament, charity gala and summer ball. Your obligations weren’t requests, they were demands of your position.