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I, Victoria Evans, started from scratch and built a company worth billions. My husband, Richard Evans, kept a lover for eighteen years and even had a daughter with her. While I was in late-stage cancer, I called my lawyer to my bedside. The first clause of my will said only the children of my son could inherit. The lawyer froze. "But ma'am, your son isn't married yet, and he—" "Just write it that way," I said. Three months later, the illegitimate daughter showed up with a DNA report, demanding her share of the estate. My lawyer smiled, and my husband's face went pale.