The text from my cousin Jessica was cold. A wall of words to thirty different people. “Due to unforeseen budget cuts, we have to shrink our guest list.
We are so, so sorry.” Sorry. My mom was out a $700 plane ticket. My uncle had already sent a thousand-dollar check.
We were all hurt, but mostly just confused. Jessica’s fiancé, Mark, came from money. Big money.
“Budget cuts” made no sense. Two weeks went by in a weird silence. No calls.
No other texts. I was on the couch, just scrolling through Instagram, trying to make my brain shut up. That’s when I saw it.
A post from Stacy, Jessica’s maid of honor. It was a picture of a new invitation. Sleek, black, gold font.
Nothing like the flowery one we got. Stacy’s caption was bubbly: “So PROUD of my girl for reaching Diamond Level! Your Wealth Wedding is going to be an inspiration to us all!
Can’t wait to celebrate and network! #LevelUp”
I zoomed in on the picture. Underneath a smiling photo of Jessica and Mark were three columns.
Bronze Partner: $500 Entry. Silver Partner: $2,000 Entry. Diamond Partner: $10,000 Entry.
My blood went cold. This wasn’t a wedding. It was a conference.
At the bottom of the invitation, in tiny letters, was a disclaimer. “Attendance confirms your buy-in to the Infinity Lifestyles starter package at your chosen Partner Level.”
My hands were shaking as I took a screenshot. I sent it to the family group chat we’d created after the mass un-invitation, a chat titled “What the Heck, Jessica?” The responses came in a flood.
My Aunt Carol was the first. “Is this a joke?”
My Uncle Robert, the one who sent the thousand-dollar check, was less delicate. “They’re charging people to come to their wedding?
What is Infinity Lifestyles?”
I didn’t know, but I was about to find out. A quick search sent me down a rabbit hole. Infinity Lifestyles was a multi-level marketing company.
It promised financial freedom through selling overpriced “wellness” products and, more importantly, recruiting others to do the same. The internet was littered with horror stories. People who had lost their homes, their life savings, their friends.
It was all there, hidden behind a glossy veneer of “empowerment” and “being your own boss.” Jessica hadn’t just uninvited us. She had disqualified us. We weren’t potential customers or recruits.
The story doesn’t end here — it continues on the next page.
Tap READ MORE to discover the rest 🔎👇
