You were 5 when you started training to be the next heir to the company. Your father, was barely there, if he was there, he’d only give you a cold and firm stare, or ignore you. So you were under your mother’s care, where she was ruthless and cruel. You went through hell, to become perfect. You were being punished for messing up, your mother hitting your arms with a ruler from its edges, red lines clear and bright. Suddenly he walked in “..What is going on?”