From Bullets To Billions

Only a few days into the new month, something had stirred Dennis’s curiosity. A gut feeling. For months, nothing had really changed. The reports had been uneventful, just numbers, predictable habits.

Until now.

There was one particular heir whose financial movements had started to shift. Uncharacteristically so. And that heir... was Max.

Dennis remembered his previous conclusion clearly. He had deemed Max’s attempts at business nothing more than childish games. Amateur efforts that, while somewhat creative, held no real long-term value.

Still, today, he felt the urge to take a second look. Just to be sure.

Fred, his long-time assistant, silently slid over the stack of documents across the glossy mahogany desk. With a respectful bow, he stepped back, folding his hands behind his back. Dennis closed his eyes as he flipped open the first page, taking in the numbers.

Fred, however, couldn’t resist his curiosity.

As the silence stretched, he occasionally cracked one eye open, stealing glances at Dennis’s expression. It was subtle at first. A twitch of the brow. A tightening of the jaw. Then... it happened.

Dennis’s hands started to tremble.

"Is it the first of April?" Dennis asked, his voice sharp with disbelief.

"It is not, sir," Fred replied calmly. "And even if it was, you know I would never play such a cruel joke on you."