Bruce stood outside the penthouse suite, carrying a stack of pizza boxes in his arms. He checked his wristwatch for the third time and clicked his tongue, tapping his foot impatiently against the carpet. This was his last delivery for the night. After this, he was going home to prepare dinner. It was his wedding anniversary, and he had planned the perfect date night with his beloved wife, Caro. Caro wouldn't be back from work until 11 o'clock. He only had two hours to prepare for her arrival. "Come on," he muttered, ringing the doorbell for the fourth time. "I don't have all day." The door finally swung open. A tall, broad-shouldered man with a handsome face that looked like it was carved by a Renaissance sculptor stood before him. Bruce cleared his throat. "Your order, Sir. Mr. Willis, right?" Willis looked him up and down with open disdain. A white towel was wrapped around his hips, sweat beads clinging to his chest. "You fool," Willis snapped. "What took you so long?

Bruce gritted his teeth bitterly. Those words hit him like a blow to the chest. His mouth felt dry, his heart slamming violently against his ribs. The word: Divorce, filled him with dread. Caro was daring him to leave her. Divorce was his only logical choice. It'd be too easy. But Bruce was married to Caro on a watertight contract. If he divorced Caro, he would be ruined completely without mercy. Caro waited for a response but his hesitation only irritated her more. "Just as I thought," She sneered, grabbing her purse and marching for the stairs. "You're a spineless piece of shit who can't survive without my family's protection." Her footsteps echoed as she disappeared upstairs. Bruce remained where he was. His chest burned and his eyes stung. His hands shook as he stared at the floor. For the first time in his life, he felt truly alone. * * * * The following day, Willis invested $8 million into Griffin Enterprise—just as he promised. The Griffin family were ecstatic.

The divorce proceedings took three days to process. On the final day, everything was set. Bruce sat quietly at the head of the long polished table, his hands folded loosely in front of him. Lawyers and clerks lined either side of the table, passing papers back and forth. Willis leaned back in his chair, relaxed, one ankle resting over his knee while Marcus and Caro sat opposite him. A thick folder was placed in front of him. Willis cleared his throat. "Before we begin, this is a contract termination agreement," he said, pushing the folder towards Bruce. "You'll receive a sum of $1 million upon signing." He paused, watching Bruce's expression with relish. He went on. "In exchange, you waive all future claims against Caro Griffin and the Griffin family. You get nothing beyond the buyout. No alimony. This works only with your full consent." One of the lawyers gently placed a pen in front of Bruce. But to everyone's surprise, he didn't reach for it. Instead, he stared

Oswald led Bruce down a large hallway, lit by beautiful chandelier lights. The walls were lined with hundreds of paintings; each framed in gold and dark wood. The faces in the paintings were of men and women dressed in Renaissance style clothes. Later generations were in tailored coats, then military uniforms and finally, modern clothing. Oswald stopped before the first painting. "This is where it all began," he said gently, "In the late sixteenth century, the shepherd family built its foundation rearing sheep." "At the time, sheep were considered wealth. The wool and meat brought endless profits. The Shepherd family saw an opportunity and traded their wool at a large scale." "They exported their wool across all of Europe down to the middle east. Gold flowed like a river into the Shepherd's pockets. It was the golden era." Oswald moved to the next painting. "As the centuries ran, the shepherd family shifted to banking. They funded merchants, insured voyages, and lent

Minutes after Bruce gave the order, an emergency executive meeting was held at Shepherd Group. All board members were summoned. Willis Stone stepped inside the boardroom, looking brighter than his usual self. Ten executives were already seated around the glass table, exchanging idle chatter as they waited for the meeting to begin. Willis best friend, Kingsley, glanced up and chuckled. "You seem to be in a high spirit, Willis. What's got you in such a good mood?" Willis smirked, lowering his voice as he sat down beside him. "Remember that loser, Bruce, whose wife I was screwing around with? They just finalized their divorce today." Kingsley laughed. "Seriously? You are a homewrecker." Willis grinned. "You should've seen his face after signing the divorce papers. What a pathetic loser." "So what now?" Kingsley asked. "Are you seriously going to marry Caro Griffin?" "Of course I will," Willis said. "She's my type of woman. I've got big plans for her." "Well, it's a