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By the time I married David, my personal fortune was worth considerably more than one billion dollars.
But I never told him the full amount.
He knew I was financially comfortable. He knew I owned property and had investments.
He believed I had inherited a substantial estate from my parents.
I allowed him to believe that because I wanted to know whether he loved me or the possibility of becoming wealthy.
My father had always warned me about people who confused affection with opportunity.
“Money doesn’t change a person’s heart,” he used to say. “It simply gives that heart permission to show itself.”
I thought David was different.
We met at a charity event in New York eight years earlier.
He was charming without appearing arrogant. He listened carefully when I spoke and never seemed intimidated by my career.
He remembered small things.
My preference for black coffee.
My dislike of crowded restaurants.
