His madness

When I was handed the position of CEO, Grandma didn’t congratulate me. She didn’t smile. Instead, she narrowed her eyes and asked me one thing—

“Do you think you can carry this responsibility, knowing that you will have to bite… or be bitten?”

Her words sliced through the air like a blade dipped in old blood. I froze. Ten full seconds passed as I stood there, motionless, my right hand clenched tightly behind my back—where no one could see it tremble. The familiar throb surged through my knuckles, a ghost from the past, aching with memories I wished I could forget.

Grandma’s gaze flickered, her confidence wavering. She misread my silence. She thought I was scared. That I would back off.

And so, she said, firm and sharp, “Those who fear—can’t win.”

I looked up. Her eyes—usually kind—were now cold steel. But beneath the sternness, I could still see the woman who raised me. Her illness didn't dim that strong demeanor I wanted to have.

“I built my empire with blood, sweat, and tears