CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY FOUR – A FAINTING SPELL
The boardroom at Maine Enterprises buzzed with the usual chatter of quarterly reports and profit margins. Nolan Maine, silver-haired and imposing even at 65, stood at the head of the table, his voice carrying over the murmur of conversation.
"Gentlemen, if we could turn our attention to the projections for next quarter—"
His words were cut short as he clutched at his chest, eyes widening in shock. The room fell silent, save for the clatter of Nolan's pen hitting the polished oak table.
"Mr. Maine?" one of the board members ventured, rising from his seat.
Nolan's face contorted in pain as he stumbled, grasping for the edge of the table. In an instant, the room erupted into chaos.
"Call an ambulance!" someone shouted.
"Nolan! Can you hear me?" Another board member rushed to his side, easing him to the floor.
The next few minutes seemed to stretch into hours. The wail of sirens in the distance grew steadily louder as Nolan's breathing became more labored. His usually ruddy complexi

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