Mark took over, tapping his finger on the blueprint file displayed on the phone. "That underground section — your VIP floor — that’s going to be the most challenging part of the construction. A basement-level build of this scale requires heavy excavation, proper load-bearing calculations, and additional fire safety measures. Not to mention the city permits and zoning laws. We can get it done, but it’ll take time to get the legal paperwork in order."
Ethan had already factored that in. "How long?"
"Could take anywhere from four to six weeks just for approvals," Mark admitted. "Depends on how smooth things go with the city inspectors. And if any issues pop up — like soil instability or underground pipelines — we’d have to adjust the foundation plan accordingly."
Ethan exhaled slowly, fingers drumming against the table. "And if I say I want it done in three?"
Mark chuckled, shaking his head. "Then you’d have to pull some serious strings at City Hall."
Ethan smirked. "I have connections. I’ll handle that part."
Mark raised an eyebrow. "Alright then. That speeds things up. But let’s talk about the security infrastructure. Your request includes a fully integrated facial recognition system, keycard access for restricted areas, biometric authentication for high-roller rooms, and even private elevator access for specific guests. That’s cutting-edge tech — not just construction work."
"That’s why I’m hiring specialists," Ethan replied smoothly. "I’ll have a separate team handling security and surveillance installations. I just need your firm to handle the structural aspects — wiring, concealed compartments for security hubs, reinforced walls for surveillance rooms, and bulletproof glass where necessary."
The second architect, an older man with silver hair, nodded in approval. "That’s smart. Having the architecture and tech handled separately will keep things efficient."
Ethan leaned forward. "What about soundproofing? I don’t want VIP rooms picking up noise from the casino floor."
The woman in glasses nodded. "We’d use multi-layered acoustic panels, similar to what’s used in high-end recording studios. We can also install vibration dampeners between floors to minimize noise transfer."
Mark scribbled something on his notepad. "We’ll also need to reinforce fire exits and ventilation systems. A casino this size needs top-tier air circulation and emergency routes."
Ethan nodded. "Whatever it takes."
Mark studied him for a moment before asking, "And what’s your timeline for opening?"
Ethan didn’t hesitate. "I want it operational within seven months."
Mark let out a low whistle. "That’s aggressive."
"That’s doable," Ethan corrected. "If I get the permits expedited, and if your team is as good as your reputation says, you can make it happen."
Mark grinned, leaning forward. "You don’t ask for small favors, Mr. Grey."
"I don’t ask twice either," Ethan said simply.
A tense silence filled the room before Mark let out a small chuckle. "I like your style." He extended his hand. "We have a deal."
Ethan grasped it firmly. "Good. I expect daily reports once construction starts."
"Of course. I’ll have my team coordinate with yours."
As Ethan stood, Mark added, "One more thing, Grey. With a project like this… you’re bound to attract attention. Not just from investors, but from people who might not want you to succeed."
Ethan smirked, adjusting his jacket. "Let them try. You’ll be coming next week to start right?"
Mark smiled and handed the phone back to Ethan. "Of course Boss,"
Ethan walked out of the office, his mind still running through the details of the deal he had just finalized.
He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he barely registered the movement in front of him.
Then — a collision.
A soft gasp. Papers fluttered through the air like oversized snowflakes.
Ethan instinctively reached out to steady the person he had just walked into, his gaze dropping to the blueprints now scattered across the floor.
"Shit. I wasn’t looking," he muttered, already kneeling to pick them up.
The woman he had bumped into crouched down as well, hurriedly gathering the documents with quick, precise movements.
She didn’t look up at him right away, her dark hair falling over her face as she reached for another sheet.
This 𝓬ontent is taken from fгeewebnovёl.co𝙢.
"No worries," she said, her voice smooth, yet clipped with efficiency. "I should’ve been paying attention too."
Ethan glanced at her as he handed over a few of the blueprints.
She was young — early to mid-twenties, maybe — dressed in a fitted blazer over a plain white top and jeans.
The sleeves were pushed up, revealing slender yet capable hands.
Her dark brown hair was tied back in a loose bun, though a few strands had slipped free.
Sharp, focused eyes scanned the prints as she shuffled them back into order.
"Are these yours?" Ethan asked, nodding toward the plans.
"Some of them," she replied, stacking them together. "Most belong to my department."
"Architect?"
"Structural engineer," she corrected, finally meeting his gaze. "And you?"
Before he could answer, the sound of hurried footsteps approached from behind.
A young man — probably an intern — came jogging down the hall, slightly out of breath.
"Ethan Grey?" the guy asked, glancing between them.
Ethan straightened, his brows raising slightly. "Yeah?"
The intern exhaled, clearly relieved. "I was sent to collect the digital blueprint file for the casino project. Mr. Mark said you have it?"
Ethan gave a short nod, then pulled out his phone. "What’s your number?"
The young man rattled it off, and Ethan quickly sent the file over. "You should have it now."
A notification dinged on the intern’s phone, and he checked it before giving Ethan a grateful smile. "Got it. Thanks, man."
Ethan gave a slight nod. "No problem."
The intern turned to go, already typing something into his phone, likely forwarding the file.
Ethan shifted his attention back to the woman, ready to apologize again for the mishap — but she was gone.
He blinked, glancing down the hall.
There was no sign of her, just the lingering scent of something faintly floral in the air.
Huh.
That was… odd.
Most people — especially in a place like this — would’ve stayed a little longer, maybe exchanged names or at least indulged in some small talk.
But she had vanished the moment his attention was diverted, as if she had never been there at all.