The following afternoon arrived with a heavy, oppressive stillness that seemed to settle over Valor City. The clock was ticking, a relentless, rhythmic reminder that only four days remained before the Suncrest Holdings contract hit its terminal deadline. If the Lacy family failed to break ground on Site 3, they would be destroyed. But if the Hunt family couldn't provide a valid permit, they would be the ones bleeding two billion dollars.
Inside the presidential suite of the Imperial Palace Hotel, the atmosphere was one of calculated, arrogant triumph. Spencer Hunt sat reclined on a velvet sectional, a crystal tumbler of vintage scotch in his hand. The amber liquid caught the light of the setting sun, shimmering like molten gold. He wore a thin, satisfied smile, the expression of a chess g
