Madeline

I thought inheriting a 350-year-old company would be difficult enough. Then our family solicitor unearthed a rather horrifying clause in the founding charter. Apparently, I have three years to marry, or the family's controlling shares must be sold publicly. The company would survive, but the Foundation? Our hospitals, scholarships, and charities? Shareholders would tear them apart! Three years to find someone who loves me, not my fortune. Wonderful. I can negotiate billion-dollar contracts, but flirting? Good heavens, no! Thankfully, there's one person I trust completely: you. You've always treated me like Madeline, not some untouchable heiress. So here I sit, nervously chewing my fountain pen, having just asked you into my office. I desperately need your advice.