Kaius proposed Thursday, two weeks from now, at 9 a.m., with the Crestline Pavilion as the venue.
Still, he decided to wait for confirmation from EchoGrid's side on whether the time and location would work.
He then sent Aaron to deliver the details to them.
The door clicked shut behind Aaron, but Kaius didn't move.
He simply stared at the skyline stretching beyond the glass wall of his office—serene, polished, deceptive.
Just like the world he operated in.
RWL's interference was annoying but expected. Ryker's name alone brought a tightening to Kaius's jaw. Opportunistic. Slippery. A man who played dirty and dressed it up as business.
But that wasn't what truly bothered him.
It was the timing.
Ryker never made noise unless he knew something was within reach. And if he was targeting the Green Border site now, it meant someone—somewhere—was talking. Leaking. Or worse, aligning.
Kaius leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled against his lips, mind working at its usual pace—ruthless and unrelenting. The workload didn't faze him. The calls, reports, deadlines, and strategic pivots were part of the design. He thrived under pressure, not despite it but because of it.
What did unsettle him—slightly—was the narrative.
The optics.
The vulnerability that came with letting the press in.
He wasn't a man who gave interviews. Not because he couldn't, but because public opinion was often more fragile than the truth. And truth, in this world, could be shaped, diluted, or destroyed depending on who held the microphone.
Still…
Penelope Garcia.
She was sharp. Strategic. Not one to waste a headline. And even sharper with her claws retracted. If she wanted this interview to push a certain agenda, it meant there was value in it—possibly for both sides.
Kaius turned toward the file still sitting on his desk—"EchoGrid & Oceans Media Collaboration."
He had read it. Of course, he had. Twice.
The topics were clever. Clean innovation. Urban integration. And just enough personal bait to humanize him without softening the edges. Garcia knew what she was doing.
"Something bold," she had said, according to Aaron.
Kaius allowed a faint smile. Not many dared to draw lines around him before he stepped into the ring. But she had.
And he respected that.
This interview wasn't about media buzz. It was about leverage. Visibility. Controlled exposure. And if the public saw Blackwood Industries as both progressive and sustainable, the Green Border site would be harder for the government to hand off quietly to a competitor.
He needed to stay ahead. And the only way to do that was to let them see just enough.
Not too much.
Never too much.
He tapped a finger once on the desk, decisive.
He would give the world what it needed to see.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
**********
On the other hand RWL Group of industries had it's own struggles.
RWL INDUSTRIES
8:07 a.m. – Boardroom, 21st Floor
The room smelled of synthetic wood polish and urgency.
Ryker Wellesley sat at the head of the table, his manicured fingers drumming lightly against a tablet screen, expression unreadable. Around him, the executive team shifted uncomfortably, a silent admission that something wasn't right—even if no one dared to say it first.
A large digital screen displayed a satellite image of the Green Border site, annotated with aggressive projections and speculative development paths. Yet none of it changed the fact that Blackwood had already made the first move.
"We've submitted interest," said Harold Mayers, the Vice President of External Relations. "But we'll need media traction to pressure the state committee. Public support could push them to consider our vision more... favorably."
Ryker didn't look up. "Which media house?"
" EchoGrid Media. We're drafting a pitch to their board."
That made Ryker pause.
His gaze lifted, sharp as cut glass. " EchoGrid belongs to Garcia's old man."
Harold swallowed. "Yes. But technically, it operates independently—"
"Nothing Garcia touches is ever independent."
Silence fell. No one argued.
Ryker leaned back slowly, expression cold. "We are not losing this deal to Kaius Blackwood."
He said the name like a curse.
"Not again."
The first time RWL went up against Blackwood Industries on a government-backed project, it ended in quiet humiliation.
The second time, when they were supposed to collaborate, Kaius discovered that Ryker was the mysterious owner behind RWL Industries.
This time, it was even more brutal.
Blackwood's name wasn't just powerful—it was surgical. Efficient. Unshakably clean. That kind of reputation didn't leave space for scandals or bribery whispers. He made it look easy. Unattainable.
And Ryker hated him for it.
"We'll increase lobbying pressure," Harold offered. "Bring in that environmental sustainability expert—what's her name? Dr. Cole?"
"And find me an alternate media outlet," Ryker added, standing. "One that doesn't smell like Garcia perfume.
And run research on other sites that meet our criteria. It's s better to be safe that sorry. You're all dismissed "
He didn't wait for a reply as he left the room, the sleek door sliding shut behind him.
For all their posturing, RWL was bleeding behind its corporate smile. Investors were growing restless, and two major international bids had already collapsed in the past six months. The Green Border site wasn't just a power play—it was a lifeline.
A large organization without potential investors was nothing more than a hollow shell dressed in prestige.
And Ryker Wellesley didn't lose lifelines.
*********
The room emptied. But the tension lingered—
Like smoke after a match has struck.
They were bleeding behind glass walls.
And the lion they followed was already chasing fire.
The war had begun.
Not everyone would make it out clean.
And the only salvation?
If he turned back...
before the flames caught up.