The Billionaire She Mistook for a Nobody

My wife casually gave the keepsake I had worn for ten full years after my father’s death to her male best friend, who had just returned from overseas.

She said, “It’s just a cheap little peach-wood charm. Ryan’s been having terrible luck lately. What’s wrong with letting him wear it for a few days to ward off evil?”

My son applauded beside her. “Dad’s the cheapest-looking one anyway. It looks much better on Uncle Ryan!”

My mother-in-law rolled her eyes. “It belonged to a dead man. Giving it away is practically inviting bad luck.”