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The check for one hundred twenty million dollars hit the mahogany desk with a sharp snap that echoed through the silent study.
“You are not a fit for my son, Nora,” he said, his voice cold and clinical, like a doctor delivering a terminal diagnosis. “Take this. It is more than enough for a girl like you to live comfortably for the rest of your life. Just sign the papers and disappear.”
I stared at the staggering string of zeros printed across that slip of paper.
More money than most people would see in ten lifetimes.
My hand instinctively continue reading …
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