He Stole My Wife and My Job — So I Bought His Company | TRUE STORY
Sep 11, 2025
#redditrelationship #aita #redditstories He Stole My Wife and My Job — So I Bought His Company | TRUE STORY He took my wife. He destroyed my career. He humiliated me, mocked my clothes, and pushed me out of the company I helped build. I lost everything… or so I thought. Then I inherited $47 million from a grandmother I barely knew. What came next wasn’t revenge. It was a reckoning. This is the true story of betrayal, power, and what happens when the tables finally turn. 💥 If you've ever been underestimated, watch this. 🔔 Subscribe for more cinematic storytelling based on real events.
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In the end, it was a simple transaction.
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My name, my identity, my very existence,
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all erased in exchange for a few
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signatures and a promise of freedom. But
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freedom from what? A life I had built
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with my own hands. A woman I had loved
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with my whole heart. A sense of self I
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had foolishly believed was unshakable.
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All gone. And for what? for a chance to
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walk away from a world that had so cruy
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discarded me. 3 years ago, my world was
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small. It was a 10-year-old Honda, a
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one-bedroom apartment, and Vivien.
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Vivien with her dreams of a little
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boutique. The gentle curve of her smile,
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the warmth of her hand in mine. We were
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building something brick by brick, a
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future forged from hard work and quiet
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ambition.
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I was a manager at Meridian Tech, a
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company I had poured my life into. A
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solid, steady man in a solid, steady
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job. Then Marcus Blackwood arrived. He
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didn't just buy Meridian, he consumed
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it. He was a force of nature. All custom
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suits and watches that cost more than my
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apartment. He was the kind of man who
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didn't just own the room. He owned the
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very air in it. I saw him for what he
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was, a predator.
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But I didn't see the prey was right next
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to me in my own bed.
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The first signs were subtle. Vivien, who
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had never cared about my workday,
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started asking about Marcus. What kind
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of car did he drive? Was he married? I
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was too busy trying to keep my head
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above water to notice the tide was
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already pulling her away. Marcus began
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his campaign of humiliation, little by
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little, chipping away at my dignity.
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He'd make jokes about my budget clothing
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in front of the whole staff, mock my
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beatup car. And once he even handed me a
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$20 bill and told me to get a decent
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lunch.
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The real sting wasn't the mockery. It
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was the way my colleagues would laugh.
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The way people I had worked with for
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years suddenly looked right through me.
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I'd come home exhausted only to hear
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Viven defend him. He's just successful,
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she'd say, her voice a little too sharp.
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Maybe you could learn something from him
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instead of being so bitter. Learn
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something from him. I was working
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16-hour days, sacrificing everything,
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and she was taking his side.
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The breaking point came at the company
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Christmas party. I'd splurged on a
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rented suit, desperate to look like I
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belonged. But next to Marcus in his
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impeccable tuxedo, I was a ghost. I saw
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them on the balcony. Vivien in a dress
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I'd never seen, a dress that screamed
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money, and the way she looked at him, it
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was a look that belonged to me. The
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world went silent. I confronted her, and
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the dam broke, the affair, the secret
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apartment, the promises Marcus had made.
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But it was her final words that
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shattered me completely.
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"I can't pretend that struggling is
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romantic," she sobbed. "I want more than
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you can give me." She left a week later.
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The divorce papers followed. But Marcus
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wasn't finished. The harassment at work
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intensified. A slow, methodical assault
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on my selfworth.
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Impossible projects, unrealistic
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deadlines, public humiliation. I was the
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office pariah, the man who had lost his
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wife to the boss, the cautionary tale. 6
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months after Vivian left, Marcus called
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me into his office. He offered me a
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generous severance package, a final
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humiliating gesture disguised as a
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mercy. I was so tired of fighting, so
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broken that I signed the papers without
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a second thought. I walked out that day,
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the taste of defeat like ash in my
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mouth. I spent weeks wallowing in my
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defeat, a ghost in my own life. Then
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came the call, a lawyer. My aranged
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grandmother had passed away. She had
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moved to Singapore decades ago, a woman
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I barely knew. Apparently, she'd been
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watching from afar, and she had left me
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everything.
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Everything was an understatement.
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My grandmother hadn't just been
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comfortable. She was a shrewd investor,
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a quiet force in real estate, tech, and
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cryptocurrency.
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Her fortune was an astonishing $47
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million.
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The irony was a cold, bitter draft. All
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those years, Marcus had mocked my
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poverty. I had been the heir to more
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money than he could ever dream of. For a
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year, I tried to disappear.
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I bought a new house in a new city,
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tried to build a normal life, a life
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where I was just a man, not a victim.
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But then I saw the article. Marcus, a
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business genius, expanding Meridian
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Tech, his arm around a smiling Viven.
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She was wearing a wedding ring. They
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were married. And in that moment, I knew
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the story wasn't over. It was just
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beginning. I hired a private
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investigator, not to dig up dirt on
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them, but to uncover the truth about
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Marcus. What I found was a house of
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cards. His expansion was a lie, a thin
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veneer of success propped up by
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mountains of debt. He was a single bad
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quarter away from ruin. The key, the
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single thread I could pull to unravel
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his entire empire was his biggest
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client, a contract that accounted for
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60% of Meridian's revenue. It was up for
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renewal in 6 months. I spent the next 3
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months meticulously crafting my attack.
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I learned everything I could about that
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client, their frustrations, their needs,
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their future plans.
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Then I made my move. I approached them
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with a proposal. the same services but
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at half the cost with twice the quality.
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I had the capital, the resources, the
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best people money could buy. I could
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deliver on my promise. They were very,
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very interested. When Marcus lost that
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contract, it was like a slow motion car
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crash. Creditors started circling. The
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stock plummeted. The business genius was
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suddenly a desperate man looking for a
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way out. And I was the one who offered
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it. Through a series of shell companies
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and lawyers, I made my move. A phantom
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buyer with no face, no name. He was so
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desperate, he never even questioned it.
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The day I walked back into my old
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office, this time as the new owner, was
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better than any revenge fantasy. Marcus,
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kept on as interim management until the
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transition was complete, was sitting in
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what used to be his office.
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The look on his face when I walked in
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was a masterpiece of shock and
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disbelief.
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This is impossible, he whispered.
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Apparently not, I replied. I explained
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that his services and those of his
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entire leadership team were no longer
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needed. No severance, no benefits, just
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gone. But I wasn't finished. I had to
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settle the score with the others, the
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ones who had laughed, who had turned a
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blind eye, who had treated me like a
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leper.
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One by one, I called them into my new
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office. One by one, I reminded them of
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their cruelty. And one by one, I fired
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them. Some begged, some cried, some
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tried to apologize, claiming they were
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just following orders. I let them
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finish. Then I showed them the door.
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Within a month, I had replaced the
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entire senior staff with people who
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understood true success, that it's about
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lifting others up, not tearing them
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down.
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The company is thriving now, a testament
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to what's possible when you value people
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over profit.
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As for Viven, she reached out after the
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news broke. Apparently, losing his
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empire had put a strain on their
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marriage. She wanted to talk, to
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explain, to work things out. I never
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responded. Some might say I took it too
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far. That revenge is an empty pursuit.
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Maybe they're right. But every morning
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when I walk into my office, when I see
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the company I rebuilt with my own hands,
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when I see a culture based on respect
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and merit, I sleep just fine.
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The last I heard, Marcus was working
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middle management somewhere, driving a
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used car, living in a modest apartment.
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The world has a funny way of coming full
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circle.