Page 42 of The Breakup Broker

"Questions?" Richard's voice snapped me back to attention. He was looking around the room, his gaze skipping me as if I wasn't even there.

I cleared my throat. "Actually, I have a few concerns about the impact on local businesses."

The room stilled, and I could feel every stare pressing in on me. My father's eyes narrowed, but his voice remained perfectly controlled. "I'm sure we can discuss that privately, Henry. This isn't really the time or place."

But I wasn't backing down. Not this time. "I think it's exactly the time and place, Dad. If we're going to reshape River Bend, shouldn't we consider all perspectives?"

The gravity of the moment settled over me, and I steadied myself. This wasn’t just about a development project anymore. It was about the heart of a city. It was about Savvy. And I’d be damned if I let it slip away without a fight.

I stood abruptly, my chair scraping against the polished floor. My heart pounded so hard I swore the board members could hear it, but I forced my voice to remain steady.

"I'm sorry, but I can't sit here and listen to this without speaking up." I paused, doubt gnawing at my insides. What if I was wrong? What if I was making a fool of myself?

But then I thought of Savvy's face, of the bookstorewhere we shared our first kiss, of the marina where her family's dreams were anchored. A rush of adrenaline flooded my system, and suddenly, I knew I had to do this.

"Progress is a double-edged sword," I began, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me. "It can build cities, create opportunities, but it can also destroy lives." I pictured River Bend Books, the soul of the town, teetering on the brink of extinction because of my father's plans. "He's been playing a dangerous game—manipulating property values and undermining local businesses to force sales and swell his own coffers."

My words hung heavy in the room as I turned to Caroline's father. A silent plea passed from me to him—an unspoken appeal to look beyond corporate gains and power shifts, to recognize the human toll of this venture.

"This isn't merely about River Bend," I added quietly, the gravity of my next words pressing against my ribs like a vice. "It reaches into our personal lives too." My gaze locked onto his, the intensity between us almost something I could reach out and hold.

Dad’s dismissive smirk sliced through me like a serrated knife. "Ah, the wayward heir graces us with his presence," he sneered. "What motivates your visit today, Henry? Another one of your noble yet doomed endeavors?"

He paused for dramatic effect, his voice dripping with derision. "Like that virtual reality fitness app you tried to get off the ground during your first year at college?"

His words hit their mark, and I could feel my cheeks flush with embarrassment and indignation. Of course, he would dredge up that old failure. I took a moment to steady my breath, reminding myself of the reason I was here.

"This isn't about me, Dad," I said, proud of how steady my voice sounded. "It's about the people of River Bend."

I reached into my briefcase, extracting an inspection report for River Bend Books. "There’s never been a problem with this property until your company showed interest in buying it." I laid the report on the table for all to see. "Are we really going to acquire River Bend by manipulating data and bribing inspectors to create situations where tenants can’t afford to stay? Is that what we’re calling progress now?"

Martha Reinhardt, head of the ethics committee, snatched up the papers, her eyes widening as she scanned the contents. To my left, Gerald Peterson moved uncomfortably in his seat.

"These are serious allegations," Martha said, her voice tight. "If true, they warrant a full investigation."

I could feel the room's energy shifting. Some board members leaned in, clearly intrigued. Others eyed the exit, as if proximity to this scandal might be contagious.

"We can’t move forward with a vote until we know the full story," I pressed. "River Bend isn’t a collection of properties to be bought and sold. It’s a community. People’s lives and livelihoods are at stake."

While I argued my point, visions of Savvy danced in my thoughts. I wasn’t fighting for a town. I was fighting for a future I thought I’d lost.

My father’s eyes narrowed, and I braced myself for whatever came next. The silence between us stretched, and for a moment, I was that little boy again—desperate for approval, afraid of letting him down.

But I wasn’t that boy anymore. And River Bend needed me to be stronger than that.

As the pressure in the room peaked, my gaze drifted to Mason. He sat at the far end of the table, his face carefully neutral. But the set of his shoulders, the way his fingersdrummed an irregular rhythm against the polished mahogany, told a different story.

Mason and I went way back to a time when his father was still around, working as my father’s right-hand man. He locked gazes with me across the room, and I detected a fleeting glimmer of … something in his eyes. Compassion? Understanding? It vanished before I could fully grasp it, but he offered an almost unnoticed nod of acknowledgment.

"Mr. Kingston," Mason said, his voice low but carrying. "Perhaps we should consider a brief recess to review these accusations?"

My father’s head whipped around, surprise flashing across his face before he schooled his features. "I hardly think that’s necessary, Mason. Henry’s … creative interpretation of events hardly warrants?—"

"With all due respect, sir," Mason cut in, and I had to bite back a grin at the barely veiled insolence in his voice, "I believe it’s our fiduciary duty to investigate any potential impropriety."

As the board members started their hushed conversations, my thoughts drifted back to those carefree summer days spent by the Kingston pool, Mason and I, awkward adolescents, envisioning our futures while our fathers discussed business matters over cocktails. I recalled vividly the day Mason's father was no longer there, the grief in his eyes as he cleared out his dad’s office.

I had always thought Mason bore a grudge against me, blaming his father’s untimely death on the incessant demands of serving the Kingston clan. But after graduation, he stepped into his father’s shoes as if it were all part of an orchestrated plan. Observing him now, noticing the careful way he carried himself… Maybe I’d been misjudging him all along.

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