The jungle pulsed with life around me, every rustle and distant call reminding me I wasn’t alone. My instincts, sharpened by decades of ruthless business battles, kicked in. I had clawed my way up from nothing before—I could do it again. Direct confrontation wasn’t an option; they’d have rehearsed excuses ready. No, this required patience, strategy, and precision.
I spent hours under the dense canopy, mapping my next move. The jungle, familiar from my younger days, seemed to welcome me back, as if fate itself had drawn me here to reclaim what was mine. As the sun dipped, painting the sky in fiery oranges and purples, I returned to civilization with a plan. Allies, contacts, favors owed—they all became part of the game.
By the time I reached my hotel, I was transformed. The river’s grime was washed away under a hot shower, leaving only focus and fire behind. Dressed sharply, I headed to a local internet café, firing off urgent messages. Within hours, help was in motion.
The next day, I returned to the hotel grounds. My son and daughter-in-law lounged by the pool, drinks in hand, blissfully unaware of my presence. Their laughter, once comforting, now stoked the fire in me. I approached slowly, letting my shadow fall across their sunlit world.
Their eyes widened, disbelief etched across their faces. “Dad!” my son gasped, dropping his glass. The crash of crystal on tile was almost satisfying.
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