Chapter 20: The Client

Inside the Department of City Planning...

Commissioner Hayes slammed both of his hands onto his desk. He stared at his deputy commissioner as if the man had just grown a second head.

"What did you just say?" Hayes demanded. "The Apex Commercial District was transferred? To a private buyer?!"

The deputy flinched, taking a step back toward the door.

"Commissioner, please," the deputy stammered. "It was processed through the state registry this morning. The deed is gone."

"That is impossible!" Hayes roared, marching around the desk. "That land has been locked in zoning disputes for a decade! The city council explicitly barred any sale of the Apex District without a unanimous vote! I never authorized this! Who forged the clearance?"

The deputy wiped a bead of cold sweat from his forehead and opened the binder, flipping to the final page. "Sir... nobody forged it. Without your permission, the registry software wouldn’t even accept the file. Look."

Hayes snatched the binder.

Right there, at the bottom of the irrevocable transfer deed, was his own signature.

The pressure of the pen, the slight slant of the letters... it was undeniably his handwriting.

Furthermore, his personal biometric seal was stamped right next to it!

Hayes stared at the paper, his mind blanking. "When... when did I sign this?"

"I don’t know, sir," the deputy whispered nervously. "A courier dropped the finalized paperwork off this morning. I assumed you pushed it through late last night during the council dinner."

Hayes felt a cold chill run down his spine. Had he drank too much at the dinner?

Had some smooth-talking lobbyist cornered him and slipped the paperwork onto his table?

He couldn’t remember a single detail... It was as if a blind spot had been inserted into his memory.

"Who is the buyer?" Hayes asked, his trembling. "If the press finds out we sold the Apex District in the middle of the night, there will be a federal investigation!"

Before the deputy could answer, the secure red telephone on Hayes’ desk began to ring.

Hayes stared at it in horror. It was the direct line to the Mayor’s office.

*I’m finished,* Hayes thought, his stomach dropping into his shoes. *The Mayor knows. I’m going to federal prison.*

With shaking hands, Hayes picked up the receiver. "Mr. Mayor... I can explain the Apex transfer—"

"Hayes, you brilliant son of a gun!" the Mayor’s booming, jovial voice interrupted. "I was just about to call a council meeting to suggest we find a loophole for the Apex land, but you beat me to the punch! Great minds really do think alike!"

Hayes froze, entirely stupified.

"Sir?" Hayes squeaked. "You... you aren’t calling for my resignation?"

"Resignation? I’m putting you up for a commendation!" the Mayor laughed heartily. "Transferring that dead land to Jude Lawson was the smartest thing this city has done in twenty years! The man is a financial godsend!"

Hayes blinked, lost. "Jude Lawson?"

"You didn’t see the morning reports?" the Mayor asked, his tone filled with awe. "Lawson just executed a hostile takeover of Apex Media Group, and then dumped eight hundred million dollars in pure cash into our foreign trade sector. He is single-handedly propping up the city’s GDP! Keeping a titan like him happy is our top priority. Excellent work, Hayes!"

The line clicked dead.

Hayes slowly lowered the phone, letting out a sigh of relief.

He looked up at his deputy, who was staring at him in equal disbelief.

"This Jude Lawson..." Hayes muttered, wiping the sweat from his brow. "He drops eight hundred million in a single morning? The man must have limitless resources. Listen to me very carefully. Whatever Mr. Lawson wants to build on that land, you fast-track the permits. Do not put a single piece of red tape in his way. This man’s future is beyond anything we can calculate."

"Yes, Commissioner!" the deputy nodded fiercely.

***

Maxwell Cross, the billionaire CEO of the venture capital empire, hurled a whiskey tumbler against the wall of his office. It shattered into a thousand pieces.

Damian stood in the center of the room, looking down at his shoes, terrified of his father’s wrath.

"Eight hundred million dollars!" Maxwell roared, his face purple with rage. "You let an absolute nobody walk into a room and publicly humiliate you! We lost our entire foreign trade monopoly in thirty minutes!"

"Dad, I didn’t know!" Damian pleaded. "He had limitless liquidity! And... and an insider at the planning bureau just texted me. Lawson acquired the Apex Commercial District this morning. He owns everything!"

Maxwell gripped the edges of his desk, his knuckles turning white.

"Lawson is a nobody," Maxwell hissed. "A twenty-something kid does not orchestrate a billion-dollar financial coup overnight. He is a puppet on a string."

Damian looked up, confused. "A puppet?"

"I have ears inside Vance & Sterling," Maxwell sneered, a cruel smile touching his lips. "The lawyers are whispering. The real money backing Lawson belongs to an ultra-private, hidden billionaire named Elias Sterling. Lawson is just the public face."

Maxwell turned toward the floor-to-ceiling window, looking out over the city.

"Elias Sterling," Maxwell muttered to himself. "No matter how much money you have, or how well you hide in the shadows, you cannot usurp Cross Capital. I will find you, Elias. And I will destroy you."

Jude, of course, was unaware that the CEO of a hundred-billion-dollar empire had just declared a blood feud against a fake uncle he had made up on the spot yesterday afternoon...

And even if he had known, he wouldn’t have cared.

The system handled the impossible logistics, wiping memories and forging unassailable paper trails to ensure his rewards were completely bulletproof.

Right now, Jude was focused on his upcoming island getaway.

Sitting in the back of the Maybach, Jude reviewed a tablet Victoria had handed him.

"Mr. Lawson," Victoria said from the seat opposite him. "If we are genuinely relocating the Apex Media summer gala to Sapphire Cove, the logistical requirements are going to be monumental. We need to hire a mainland event-planning firm immediately to handle the VIP boarding, press management, and red-carpet transport before they get on your jets."

Jude swiped through the tablet. "Who did you have in mind?"

"I strongly suggest the Vanguard Group," Victoria replied without hesitation. "They are the premier event logistics firm in the state. They have guaranteed flawless execution."

"No," Jude said smoothly, handing the tablet back. "I don’t want Vanguard."

Victoria blinked in surprise. "May I ask why? Who would you prefer?"

"Carmichael Events," Jude said, a smile playing on his lips.

Victoria frowned, quickly pulling up the registry on her laptop.

When she saw the financial profile of Carmichael Events, she looked at Jude as if he were insane.

"Mr. Lawson... Carmichael Events is a tiny, boutique PR firm on the verge of bankruptcy," Victoria cautioned. "They handle local weddings and minor corporate retreats. Giving them a multi-million-dollar entertainment gala is incredibly risky."

Jude just smiled.

He didn’t care about their logistics... He cared about the fact that the firm was owned and operated by Chloe’s mother, Evelyn Carmichael.

Evelyn was the woman who had endlessly berated Jude for his poverty.

She was the one who had convinced Chloe to break their engagement and chase after the wealthy Trent Belmont, calling Jude a "worthless anchor" who would never amount to anything.

"Offer them the contract, Victoria," Jude commanded. "But make sure they know exactly whose name is on the check."

***

Later that afternoon, the Carmichael household was dead quiet.

Chloe was sitting on the living room sofa, staring blankly at the wall.

Trent Belmont had dumped her, his family was ruined, and her dreams of marrying into high society had evaporated.

In the kitchen, Evelyn Carmichael was rubbing her temples, staring at a stack of unpaid vendor invoices.

Her event-planning business was going under... In a matter of weeks, they were going to lose the house.

Suddenly, her business phone rang.

Evelyn sighed, expecting another angry debt collector.

She picked up the receiver. "Carmichael Events, Evelyn speaking."

"Mrs. Carmichael," a professional female voice said. "My name is Victoria, Senior Counsel for Apex Media Group. My client has specifically requested your firm to handle the mainland logistics for our upcoming multi-million-dollar summer gala at Sapphire Cove."

Evelyn dropped her pen. Her jaw fell open.

Apex Media?! Sapphire Cove?! It was a contract worth millions in pure commission! It was a miracle!

"Yes! Absolutely!" Evelyn screamed, tears of joy springing to her eyes. "Oh, thank you! Thank you! Please, who is your client? I want to send him a personal gift basket!"

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line.

"My client," Victoria said, "is Jude Lawson."