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Part 1: The Golden Ticket
I stared at my phone, my heart hammering against my ribs. A notification from my bank: $35,000 transaction at the Ritz Paris. I wasn’t in Paris. I was in my office in Chicago, working a 60-hour week to finalize a merger. My husband, Mark, was at his gym. But my mother-in-law, Evelyn, had been suspiciously quiet for two days.continue reading …
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