“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.”

in June, I found Julian in the kitchen attempting to make grilled cheese. Smoke curled from the pan.

“You’re burning it,” I said.

“I am creating texture.”

“You’re creating evidence.”

He looked over his shoulder. “Must everything be cross-examined?”

“In this house? Yes.”

He turned off the stove, surrendering the sandwich to its fate. Sunlight fell across continue reading …