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My name is Sandra Rivers, and at 60 years old, I’ve learned that some wounds don’t heal. They calcify into something harder and more useful than bone. Thirteen years.
That’s how long it had been since I’d held my grandchildren. Since I’d seen their faces except in stolen glimpses through social media accounts that blocked me as soon as they discovered I was watching. Thirteen years since my daughter-in-law Victoria had successfully turned my son James against me, poisoning him with lies until he chose her version of reality over the woman who had given him life.
$15 million built from nothing after my husband died and left me with debts and a broken heart. $15 million earned through years of 18-hour days, missed holidays, and the kind of focused determination that comes from having everything you love stripped away. I’d built that company not just for financial security, but as a weapon.
The story doesn’t end here — it continues on the next page.
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