“A field trip. Tomorrow morning. Two days. Wolfstone. All three of you.”
“Absolutely not,” Hamilton says, his voice hard and flat.
“I wasn’t asking, Hamilton,” I say, meeting his glare with one of my own. “You three are planning to bulldoze and develop land you’ve never even properly seen, except for Percy. Land that’s been part of my pack’s territory for generations.”
“I’ve seen the land,” Hamilton replies, “Aerial surveys, topographical maps, environmental impact—”
“Not the same thing,” I cut him off. “You haven’t smelled the air after a rainstorm. You haven’t heard the creeks that run through the eastern ridge. You haven’t seen the caves where generations of wolf pups have been born.” My voice cracks slightly on that last part, and I hate the vulnerability, but it’s the goddamn truth.
“Ms. Wolfhart,” Hamilton says, stepping closer, a dangerous gleam in his eye. “Porkwell Corp. doesn’t make multi-million dollar decisions based on—what was it?—smelling raindrops and looking at puppies.”
I step toward him until we’re just inches apart. The memory of his body pressed against mine in that stairwell flashes through my mind, and I push it away violently. “That’s exactly my point, Hamilton. You’re making decisions based on spreadsheets and profit margins, not reality.”
“Business is reality,” he says, his breath hot on my face. “And progress doesn’t stop for fairy tales, no matter how noble they sound.”
“If you genuinely believe that destroying ancient wolf habitats for luxury condos constitutes ‘progress,’ then you need this field trip more than I thought.”
Percy clears his throat, breaking the tension. “I’m actually not opposed to seeing the land up close again,” he says, earning a death glare from Hamilton. “Could be valuable for design inspiration, really getting a feel for the landscape.”
“Are you serious?” Hamilton turns on his brother. “We have deadlines, Percy. Board meetings. Investors waiting.”
Prescott finally speaks up, closing his laptop with a soft click. “Actually, I’ve already cleared our schedules for the next few days.”
Hamilton whips around so fast I’m surprised he doesn’t pull something. “You what?”
“Well, it seemed reasonable,” Prescott says with practiced nonchalance. “You’re always talking about due diligence, Hamilton. This is just ‘on-site’ due diligence.”
The vein throbbing in Hamilton’s forehead looks ready to burst.
I bite back a grin.
“When exactly did you clear our schedules?” Hamilton demands, stalking toward his younger brother.
Prescott shrugs. “This morning. Rescheduled the Bennett meeting to next week—they were happy to accommodate.Pushed the zoning committee call to Monday. He adjusts his glasses. “Nothing that couldn’t wait.”
“And you didn’t think to consult me?” Hamilton’s voice has gone dangerously quiet.
“I consulted the efficiency algorithms I’ve been developing,” Prescott replies. “They suggested a 43% increase in decision-making clarity following direct site exposure.”
I can’t help it—I snort. Prescott’s bullshitting him with tech jargon, and it’s glorious to watch.
Hamilton turns back to me, eyes narrowed. “This is coordinated. You two planned this.”
“Planned is a strong word,” I say, examining my nails casually. “Let’s call it… synchronized interests.”
Percy stands up, stretching. “I think it’s a great idea. How often do we get to take a couple of days away from the office? Plus, I’ve been wanting to sketch some of the natural formations out there.”
“It’s not a vacation, Percy,” Hamilton snaps.
“No,” I agree, my voice hardening. “It’s not. It’s your education. Because if you’re going to destroy something, you should at least understand what you’re destroying.”
“We’re not ‘destroying’ anything,” Hamilton says, making air quotes. “We’re developing. Creating. Building. That’s what Porkwell’s do.”
“And wolves protect their territory,” I counter. “That’s what we do. So either come see what you’re so eager to pave over, or admit you don’t actually care what you’re doing to an entire community.”
Hamilton goes quiet, his jaw working as he considers his options. I can almost see the calculations running behind his eyes—how this looks to his brothers, how refusing might be perceived as indifference or worse, weakness.
“Two days,” he finally says. “No more. And we’re not camping.”
