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“Here’s $100—Can you be my mom today?” a billionaire boss’s son asked—until a shy woman replied, “Keep it. Billionaires pay in secrets.”

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worry. Final notices stacked on our kitchen table. Myself running in circles, working, praying, drowning.

“What happens after three months?” I asked.

“If Milo has stabilized, you leave with an additional two hundred thousand dollars.”

The number was obscene.

“And if I refuse?”

Julian’s eyes did not move. “Then you refuse.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

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