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Across from me sat David Lin, polished and professional, flipping through a file thick enough to anchor a ship.
“Before we proceed,” he said, “you need to understand the stipulation in your uncle’s will.”
“Mr. Whitmore specified that you must act as CEO of Whitmore Industries for one full year,” David explained. “You cannot sell or transfer your shares. After twelve consecutive months without scandal or financial collapse, the inheritance will be fully yours.”
I could barely process his words. “I’m an art teacher,” I whispered. “I can’t run a corporation.”
I let out a short, shaky laugh. “So this is a test from beyond the grave.”
Emma,
I built an empire, but lost my conscience along the way.
You still have yours.
Lead with heart, and perhaps you’ll save what I couldn’t.
“I’ll do it,” I said. “I’ll honor his wish.”