I Married a Wealthy 79-Year-Old Woman for Her Money—After She Died, Her Lawyer Slid Me a Cardboard Box and Said, “You Walked Straight Into Her Trap”
The library.
The land.
I knew enough to recognize money when I saw it.
At night, lying in my cheap apartment, I calculated.
Not exact numbers.
Fantasies.
What if the house was worth three million?
Five?
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