THIRTY-THREE

BRAD WAS signing a couple of contracts, when his assistant, Mark Turner, walked in to remind him of his 2:00 p.m. schedule.

"Mr. President, you have an executive committee meeting in two minutes," he chimed in his usual teasing and jovial tune.

"Thanks, Mark!"

Mark Turner was more than just an assistant to him—he was a friend and confidant and had been by his side for many years. He had been instrumental in assisting him navigate the transition from employee to president of the company and had continued to be a pillar of support in the years since. Mark was like a brother to him, and he was among the few people he trusted implicitly.

Brad stood up quickly to make for the boardroom, but a piercing, excruciating pain struck his abdomen so hard that he groaned out loud, clutching his stomach.

He'd felt a mild discomfort a couple of hours ago. Thinking it was because he'd skipped breakfast, he had gone all out, stuffing his stomach with delightful delicacies, but th