At my daughter’s wedding, her fiancé leaned close and whispered, “Give us fifty million… or disappear from our lives forever.” My daughter didn’t hesitate. She calmly suggested I start shopping for a room in a nursing home. So I smiled, took a sip of champagne, and said, “You forgot one thing.”
The Atlantic waves rolled against the white sand of my Hamptons estate, a soothing rhythm I had paid dearly to hear. I stood on the balcony overlooking the wedding I had funded—silk tents from Milan, thousands of imported lilies, and my daughter Lydia, glowing in a Vera Wang gown that cost more than my first … Read more