Vincent's pov
I slammed my office door hard as I entered.
The land was gone. My project was dead and somewhere out there, someone from Horton Group was probably celebrating their victory over me.
I dropped into my chair and stared at my computer screen without really seeing it. Wicket had been working all afternoon trying to identify who I was up against, but so far he'd come up with nothing concrete.
My phone rang, shattering the silence.
"What?" I answered.
"Vincent." My mother's voice, cool and composed as always, came through and I felt ashamed for snapping at her like that. "You need to have dinner with me tonight."
I closed my eyes, fighting back a wave of frustration. "Mom, I'm really not in the mood—"
"I didn't ask if you were in the mood. I said you need to have dinner wi
