Page 139 of The Contract

“This might be bad, Wolfe,” he says, his tone weighted with something that makes my spine stiffen.

The atmosphere in the limo shifts instantly—the lighthearted ease evaporating, replaced with something thick, heavy.

Marcus turns his phone toward me, the glow of the screen casting shadows across his face.

I take it, eyes locking onto the subject line first—an official email from a city planning commission member.

My gut tightens.

Then I read the first line.

Environmental review on the East River project site.

My grip tightens.

I don’t need to read the rest. I already know this is bad.

But I do anyway.

Mr. Wolfe,

Following our preliminary assessment of the proposed development site at the East River location, surveyors have identified critical environmental obstructions that may impede construction. Due to protected wetland status and recent soil integrity concerns, the feasibility of the development as outlined in your proposal is now under formal review. A full report is pending, but alternative site evaluations are strongly recommended at this time.

We will be in touch as soon as additional information is available.

A slow exhale pushes through my nose.

Protected wetland status?

Soil integrity concerns?

Bullshit.

We did the work. We were prepared. Every clearance, every permit, every environmental study—approved.

This was not an issue. This should not be an issue.

But now, suddenly, it is.

I think back to the Hamptons, to Adrian’s smug little comments about ourambitioustimeline. How he chastised us, hinting that we werecutting corners.

I shut him down that night—told him, in no uncertain terms, that he was a fucking idiot if he thought we hadn’t done our due diligence.

Because we had.

And yet, here we are.

A major piece of our development plan—the key site our financial projections are hitched to—is now suddenly in question.

If this site is pulled…

If Calloway catches wind before we have a solution…

This merger could be dead in the water.

My fingers flex against the phone before I shove it back at Marcus.

“Get our land-use attorneys on this,” I say, my voice calm, clipped, controlled. “I want a full breakdown of every environmental study, every clearance we obtained before this project was approved.”

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