"But I want $200,000 upfront. I need to secure my wife and children’s well-being," Hans demanded through gritted teeth.
Baker paused, considering.
"Alright, $200,000," Baker agreed.
When Hans returned ho, his wife, slling the alcohol on him, was annoyed and turned away to the bedroom. The children were already asleep. Hans quietly stepped into each of their rooms.
His eldest daughter, Laura, was seven, Reese was five, and little Hans was only three. They all slept soundly, and Hans kissed each of their cheeks.
Back in the master bedroom, his wife lay facing away from him. Hans felt a pang of helplessness. At the height of his career, he had t his beautiful wife, Mary, and life had been blissful. But now, as he fell from grace, problems were surfacing.
Love does change.
Money is the catalyst for love, determining whether it flourishes or withers based on how much one has. (Of course, this is just a point of view, not a rule; I’m no sage.)
"Mary, I need to discuss sothing with you," Hans said.
"What is it?" she asked.
"I’m planning for us to emigrate," Hans revealed.
Mary was surprised and turned to look at her husband. "Emigrate? Where to? And how do we have money for that?"
"I borrowed so money from a friend. I don’t plan to use it for the research institute anymore. You’ve always said it’s a bottomless pit, and you’re right. I want to use this money to help you emigrate, and whatever remains will be left for you and the kids. As for the debts, I’ll figure sothing out myself."
Mary, astonished, sat up in bed.
"Can’t we stay in Arica?" she asked.
She had grown accustod to life in the United States.
Hans shook his head. "If you stay in Arica, you’ll have to bear the debt with . But if you move abroad, that money will be secured for you."
Mary realized this was probably her husband’s last resort.
Seeing her husband’s worn-out expression, she felt a pang of sympathy. She got up and led him to the bathroom, helping him wash up. Back in bed, Mary leaned affectionately into him.
Since the company’s troubles began, they hadn’t been intimate for a long ti. Perhaps the thought of parting awakened their desire, and they gave in to passion, leaving them both exhausted and covered in sweat.
The next day.
Hans began making arrangents for his wife and children’s emigration. Mary was originally of Portuguese descent, having lived in Portugal as a child until just before World War II when her family moved to the United States. This ti, the plan was to move Mary and the children back to Portugal. Read the latest on .Côm
Mary spoke Portuguese and would adapt more easily to life there.
The process went smoothly and was completed within a few days. Hans personally escorted his wife and children to Portugal and bought a house with a yard in Porto, Mary’s childhood city, where they settled in comfortably.
Hans handed Mary a bankbook. "There’s $150,000 in here for you and the kids. It’s with Wells Fargo, which has branches in Portugal. You can withdraw money there."
"Hans," his wife said, looking at him with a mixture of love and sorrow.
"Don’t worry. Once I sort out the pharmaceutical company’s affairs, I’ll co join you. Maybe I’ll find a job at a university or work as a researcher for a company. Porto is beautiful, and I love the sea. We could go fishing; I’m sure life will be wonderful here," Hans reassured her.
A few days later, Hans bid farewell to his wife and children and returned to the United States. Back at Hans Biopharmaceuticals, the first thing he did was gather the remaining staff.
He paid the overdue wages.
Salaries had been delayed for two months, and the employees were growing increasingly dissatisfied.
As he distributed the paychecks, one curious staff mber asked, "Boss, did you find new funding?"
Hans gave a confident smile. "I found a new investnt partner. Hans Pharmaceuticals can continue its research, and from now on, your salaries will be paid on ti every month."
The staff erupted into cheers.
But the truth was, Hans Biopharmaceuticals no longer belonged to Hans. Seventy percent of his shares had been purchased by an offshore company registered in the Cayman Islands.
As for the true owner?
That remained confidential.
Even if soone tried to investigate, they’d find nothing but a fabricated identity of a man from a small South African town. There’d be no real trail to follow.
What’s that? You say this isn’t legal?
In the Caymans, Hardy makes the rules.
Hans Pharmaceuticals was a publicly traded company, with its stock price sitting at just 4.6 cents—not dollars, but cents.
anwhile, Andy had quietly been buying up shares of Hans Biopharmaceuticals, keeping the price low by occasionally leaking bad news, such as rumors of imminent bankruptcy, all the while accumulating more shares.
Andy’s goal was to buy up at least 95% of the publicly traded shares, distributing them across hundreds of accounts. The process was slow and thodical, with plenty of ti to spare.
Once that was done, they’d just wait.
Wait for the perfect mont to detonate this ticking financial ti bomb.
Hans, now the chief researcher at Hans Pharmaceuticals, threw himself fully into developing a tuberculosis cure. From that day forward, he managed all research data alone, with the staff providing only auxiliary support. Free of family worries, Hans was able to imrse himself entirely in his work.
anwhile, Hardy enjoyed a laid-back life, occasionally checking in on his various business ventures and taking won on outings.
Eva, Irina, Elena, and Taylor were all in Los Angeles.
When the mood struck him, he’d even visit Hedy Lamarr.
He also made a trip to the Cayman Islands, flying to Miami and then taking a boat to the Caymans.
The Cayman Islands resembled a massive construction site. Everywhere, projects were underway: the harbor was being expanded, with waters deep enough to accommodate a natural port, safe from storms.
An airport was also under construction, with a 4,000-ter runway designed for large aircraft.
A 400-kiloter ring road was being built, promising scenic drives around the island.
The city was taking shape.
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