The moment Issac Monroe spoke, his voice cut through the chaos like a blade.
“We’re not signing. And the Oceaniac Group isn’t demolishing anything here.”
His words were cold, absolute, almost regal in their certainty—leaving no room for negotiation.
A slight stir rippled through the villagers. Before anyone could answer, Madison Clarke appeared, flanked by several bodyguards who shoved aside anyone in their path. Madison’s heels clicked sharply against the ground as she entered the courtyard, wearing the serene expression of someone who believed she was bringing righteousness to ignorant masses.
“Fellow residents,” she proclaimed, her tone righteous and full of forced sympathy. “I’ve always valued our long-standing ties. That’s why the compensation the Oceaniac Group is offering is abo
