I watched from my upstairs study window as they were led out of my house in handcuffs. Nathan, sobbing. Clara, silent, her face stone, her eyes burning with a hatred so pure it was almost impressive.
They thought I was an obstacle. An old man to be discarded. They forgot that the old lions are the ones who know all the traps. They forgot that you can’t con a man who has spent his life building an empire on discipline and grit.
The empire is safe. It’s stronger, in fact. Cleaner. I’ve taken a more active role again, much to the board’s relief. I find I have more energy than I have in years.
I still have the mansion, the jet, the company. But I’m different. That night in the jungle, that brush with death, it clarified things. Wealth doesn’t corrupt. It just… reveals. It reveals the weakness in people like Nathan, and the poison in people like Clara.
Sometimes, people ask me how I survived it all. The hostile takeovers, the market crashes, the… “boating accident.”
I just smile. “Never, ever underestimate an old man who built his fortune with his own hands.”
The Amazon is a dangerous place, full of predators. But the deadliest ones don’t always have scales. Sometimes, they wear designer clothes. Sometimes, they smile at you. And sometimes, they even call you “Dad.”
