The revelation hit Ambrose Ward with the force of a physical blow. He stood on the steps of the Joint Task Force Hotel, the morning sun beating down on his neck, and stared at the trio of executives in front of him.
Lakeport Properties—the crown jewel of the district’s development, a Grade II powerhouse backed by public money—was a hollowed-out shell. It was effectively insolvent, unable to cover its payroll, let alone the staggering interest on its bank loans. And this catastrophic liquidity crisis had been kept under wraps until the very second the Joint Investigation Task Force started knocking on the door.
"You’re telling me the accounts are dry? Now?" Ambrose’s voice was a low, dangerous rumble. He swept a cold, accusing gaze over Grant Archer, Darren Drake, and Peter Reed. "A colla
