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I poured my life, my inheritance, and my soul into Redwood Creek Brewery. As a gesture of love and trust, I made Olivia, my fiancée of seven years, CEO, gifting her 51% of the shares. Or so I thought. Then the news hit: Olivia was pregnant. With Mark' s baby. Mark, her college ex, who I'd just hired as COO. Suddenly, my fiancée was marrying my COO, and I was just the guy who made the beer. They turned my office into a humiliating nursery. Olivia demoted me to Mark' s assistant. They gleefully watched as Mark 'accidentally' ruined a crucial hops contract I' d just secured. Olivia's condescending calls about me "keeping the money flowing for them" felt like a constant knife twist. They even used company funds-my company' s funds!-to buy my childhood home, only to trash it immediately. Every humiliation, every snide remark, fueled a cold, silent rage within me. They thought I was shattered, easy to discard. They believed I was just the pathetic founder no one remembered, too weak to fight back. But they had no idea. Absolutely no idea what was coming. For months, I' d held a secret: a notarized share transfer agreement, signed by Olivia herself, making me the 91% owner. They thought it was a formality for a phony loan. I called it their eviction notice. Next Monday, I walked in, not as the loyal Head Brewer, but as the indisputable owner. Their nightmare began.