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A group of boys was assembled in an open field tothe west of the public schoolhouse in the town ofCrawford. Most of them held hats in their hands,while two, stationed sixty feet distant from eachother, were ``having catch.''

The Cash Boy Preface

``The Cash Boy,'' by Horatio Alger, Jr., as the nameimplies, is a story about a boy and for boys.

  Through some conspiracy, the hero of the storywhen a baby, was taken from his relatives andgiven into the care of a kind woman.

  Not knowing his name, she gave him her husband'sname, Frank Fowler. She had one littledaughter, Grace, and showing no partiality in thetreatment of her children, Frank never suspectedthat she was not his sister. However, at the deathof Mrs. Fowler, all this was related to Frank.

  The children were left alone in the world. Itseemed as though they would have to go to thepoorhouse but Frank could not become reconciled to that.

  A kind neighbor agreed to care for Grace, soFrank decided to start out in the world to makehis way.

  He had many disappointments and hardships, butthrough his kindness to an old man, his own relativesand right name were revealed to him.

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I lived as the "scarred ghost" of the Stephens penthouse, a wife kept in the shadows because my facial burns offended my billionaire husband’s aesthetic. For years, I endured Kason’s coldness and my family's abuse, a submissive puppet who believed she had nowhere else to go. The end came with a blue folder tossed onto my silk sheets. Kason’s mistress was back, and he wanted me out by sunset, offering a five-million-dollar "silence fee" to go hide my face in the countryside. The betrayal cut deep when I discovered my father had already traded my divorce for a corporate bailout. My step-sister mocked my "trashy" appearance at a high-end boutique, while the sales staff treated me like a common thief. At home, my father threatened to cut off my mother's life-saving medicine unless I crawled back to Kason to beg for a better deal. I was the girl who took the blame for a fire she didn't start, the wife who worshipped a man who never looked her in the eye, and the daughter used as a human bargaining chip. I was supposed to be broken, penniless, and desperate. But the woman who stood up wasn't the weak Elease Finch anymore; she was Phoenix, a tactical predator with a $500 million secret. I signed the divorce papers without a single tear, walked past my stunned husband, and wiped the Finch family's bank accounts clean with a few taps on my phone. "Your money is dirty," I told Kason with a cold smile. "I prefer clean hands." The cage is open, the hunt has begun, and I’m starting with the people who thought a scar made me weak.

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