Chapter 12
The polished mahogany doors of Conference Room B loomed at the end of the grand third-floor corridor of City Hall. Inside, the muffled murmur of powerful voices indicated that the emergency zoning board meeting was already underway.
Marcus stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Arthur in the quiet hallway, his heavy boots clicking softly against the expensive wool carpet. The exhaustion of the long, grueling night was etched into the lines of Marcus’s face, yet his posture remained fiercely protective.
“They’re already inside, Mr. Vance,” Marcus whispered, glancing at the brass wall clock, which read 6:45 AM. “Fifteen minutes until the official vote.”
“Then we shall enter before they can cast it,” Arthur replied calmly. He reached down, adjusting the lapel of his worn brown leather jacket and ensuring the glowing green pin was clearly visible.
Before Marcus could reach out to push the heavy mahogany doors open, they swung inward on their own. Julian Vance stepped out into the hallway, his tailored suit immaculate despite the frantic events of the night. He stopped abruptly, his eyes widening in sheer disbelief as he locked gazes with his uncle.
Julian’s face flushed a deep, furious crimson. He took a sharp step forward, his voice trembling with suppressed rage.
“You,” Julian hissed, pointing a finger directly at Arthur. “How on earth did you get past my security teams? You were supposed to be locked in the archive sub-basement!”
“A wise man learns that old tunnels are harder to close than open minds, Julian,” Arthur replied evenly, stepping closer to his nephew without an ounce of fear.
Julian let out a harsh, incredulous laugh, shaking his head as he looked from Arthur to the towering security guard standing beside him. “You honestly think a dusty old piece of paper from 1974 is going to stop a multi-billion-dollar urban renewal project? The city council is inside right now, and they’ve already been compensated for their approval.”
Marcus took a menacing half-step forward, his massive frame towering over the CEO. “Watch your mouth, Vance. You’re speaking to the majority founder of this entire enterprise.”
“He’s a senile old ghost clinging to the past!” Julian shouted, his composure finally cracking under the immense pressure. He lunged forward, attempting to swipe at the pocket of Arthur’s jacket where the historic deed was tucked.
Marcus reacted with lightning speed, grabbing Julian’s wrist in a crushing grip and forcing the CEO back against the wood-paneled hallway wall with a dull thud.
“Touch him again, and I’ll throw you down these stairs myself,” Marcus warned quietly, his voice dropping to a terrifying, steady rumble.
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Julian struggled violently, his face pressed against the wall. “Guards! Security! Arrest them both right now!”
At Julian’s frantic shout, the heavy double doors of Conference Room B swung wide open, revealing the startled faces of the city zoning commissioners sitting around a massive mahogany table.
