The man stared at his phone, the photo of a toddler with bright eyes and gap-toothed grin staring back at him. It was a constant reminder of the new life he’d built, a life cobbled together from the wreckage of his previous marriage. He’d remarried quickly, and his current wife, also divorced, brought a child into their union. Yet, the whispers followed him – rumors of violence, a reason for the abrupt end of his first marriage.
Now, whispers weren’t the only thing swirling around him. News blared about a global minimum tax on corporations, a policy he supposedly supported. But the truth was murkier. He wasn’t just after corporate taxes; he yearned for a global minimum tax on individuals, specifically the super-rich. He saw it as a way to rectify the past, a way to ensure others wouldn’t benefit from the same “tax optimization” tactics he’d allegedly used.
As he scrolled through news articles, a bitter truth settled in his stomach. He was trying to change the game, but the question remained – was it for the good of the system, or a desperate attempt to rewrite his own story? The phone, a window into his messy life, offered no answer. Only the reflection of the smiling toddler offered a glimmer of hope, a chance to build something new, this time on a foundation of honesty and fairness.
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