He Chose a Secret “Male Heir” Over the Daughter I Was Delivering. I Was the Sole Trustee of His Two-Billion-Dollar Empire

“Not quite,” I said, and nodded toward the tall wall beside the grand staircase.

Our wedding portrait still hung there — six feet of it, Roderick smiling in a velvet tuxedo with his arm around a version of me who had believed him.

I handed the baby to Priya, took a thick red marker from my bag, and walked up to the canvas.

Two heavy strokes, and a jagged red cross sat over my husband’s painted face.

“Now we can go,” I said, and capped the marker, and took my daughter back.