Nathan joined him. “There’s no fucking way we’re agreeing to that.”
“No way in hell,” Richter parroted.
My pulse steadied.
This was the moment.
The circle before the kill.
“I’ve already discussed this with Ms.Sinclair,” I said. “She’s willing to reduce it to five years.”
“That’s still ridiculous,” Nathan snapped.
Alicia tapped her pen, considering. “Not as ridiculous as seven. And Damien’s right—given what’s in the Elion audit packet, they’ll return that investment two-fold. Minimum.”
“The cost savings alone would justify these concessions. The political capital we gain is the real prize,” Linda added.
Lang let out a breath. “Honestly? The fact that they can scale that quickly makes the rest of these terms look civil.”
Silence spread—heavy, calculating.
Then Farnsworth raised his hand. “All in favor of approving the proposed contract?”
Alicia’s hand went up next.
Then Linda’s.
And mine—counting for two votes.
Five.
Nathan and his four remained motionless.
Five against five.
A deadlock.
Not enough.
I opened my mouth to press the issue, but Nathan cut across the room like a blade.
“I still want my thirty days, Holt.”
The words hit like ice water. The meeting. Emma’s expression. Her distance. The agreement she’d made before she and I had changed everything.
The one thing I couldn’t object to without revealing far too much.
I inhaled once. “Fine,” I said. “We’ll amend the contract.”
Nathan’s lip curled. “No need. I’ll annotate my copy.” He pulled out a pen, scribbling the clause in the margin in messy, looping handwriting before signing decisively at the bottom.
He slid the packet to Shore.
Shore signed immediately—the mandatory second signature meant to prevent conflicts of interest, effectively cementing the amendment into permanence.
Lang’s hand lifted.
Richter’s followed.
