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My sugar daddy was really forgetful. He could forget someone he met in a month. Five years later, I'd pretty much spent the savings I'd tucked away, so I went back to being his sugar baby. When I found out he was seriously ill and not expected to live long, I immediately brought out the kid I'd secretly had five years earlier. "This is your daughter. When you're gone, leave your business to her to inherit. We'll miss you," I said. Holding the adorable child tight in his arms, Michael Lane's mopey, self-pitying mood vanished instantly. "Doctor, Nurse, cure me! I want to live another five hundred years," he shouted.