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A MILLIONAIRE RECOGNIZES A WAITRESS: HIS YOUTHFRIEND, BELIEVED DEAD 23 YEARS AGO... Thomas Morel stared absently at the Paris skyline from the large bay window of his office on the top floor of a luxury building. The skyscrapers sparkled in the distance, but he saw only blurry, meaningless reflections. A slight pain pulsed in his temple. Another migraine. He took a deep breath and massaged his temples, trying to dispel the familiar tension. “Mr. Morel? Your meeting with the investors starts in five minutes,” his secretary, Claire, announced as she opened the door a crack. “I’m coming,” he replied neutrally, without turning around. The door closed silently, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Thomas pulled on his perfectly tailored black jacket, adjusted his tie, and took one last look at his reflection in the mirror. His appearance was impeccable: salt-and-pepper hair, an elegant face marked by years of difficult decisions. Yet behind this facade, a void persisted. A chasm that no professional success seemed to be able to fill.