GarrettThe crystal decanter on the sideboard of my penthouse study remained full, the amber scotch catching the late afternoon light untouched.Months had passed since Janet walked out into the rain and vanished into thin air. In the early weeks of her disappearance, I had sought refuge at the bottom of heavy tumblers, attempting to drown the echo of her weeping and the sickening venom of my own words in alcohol. It had done nothing but dull my senses and leave me stumbling through boardrooms like a wounded animal.I didn't drink anymore.A cold, absolute sobriety had replaced the chaos. I had become quieter, leaner, and ruthlessly controlled. Every morning began at five with punishing miles on the treadmill, followed by eighteen-hour workdays driving Crawford Industries forward. Under my command, the firm had secured the coastal shipping merger, expanded into sovereign green-energy funds, and pushed quarterly revenues to historic highs.The financial press praised my focus, calling
Last Updated : 2026-09-21
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