“Sir, Your Wife Faked Her Death, I Know Where She is”…The poor girl told the billionaire and he…

But the voice came again.

“Sir, please. I need to tell you something.”

He turned.

A girl stood a few feet away, barefoot in the mud.

She could not have been older than nineteen. Her clothes were clean but worn thin. Her feet were dirty from the rain-soaked ground. She looked cold, exhausted, and poor—but her eyes were steady.