Chapter 19 - The Letter from Harbor Ridge
Sloan tore open the flap, her eyes scanning the formal, typed lines with practiced speed. The words blurred for a fraction of a second before snapping into sharp, terrifying focus: Notice of Property Acquisition and Zoning Review — Harbor Ridge Expansion Initiative.
"What is it?" Raphael asked, his tone shifting instantly from relaxed amusement to the cold, razor-sharp authority of a man who smelled blood in the water. He was out of his chair before she could answer, standing beside her shoulder.
"A development firm out of Boston," Sloan whispered, her fingers whitening against the heavy parchment. "They’ve bought the municipal debt holding the lease on the Harbor Ridge property. They’re planning to rezone the land for commercial warehouse space. They’re giving the facility sixty days to vacate."
The silence in the sunroom dropped like a lead weight. Sixty days meant moving dozens of recovering patients, uprooting Junie right in the middle of her intensive cane-training phase, and throwing her back into an institutional limbo that could crush everything she had fought to rebuild.
"Who holds the paper?" Raphael asked, his voice dropping into that dark, dangerous register she hadn't heard since the day she first walked into his estate.
Sloan checked the signature at the bottom of the legal brief. Vance & Associates, Managing Director: Gregory Vance.
The blood rushed violently to Sloan’s ears. Her cousin Gregory—the very man who had tried to steal her inheritance, the weak-willed viper who had hidden behind her uncle’s coattails—had somehow slithered his way into a predatory real estate syndicate. And he was using his new corporate leverage to strike at the only thing in the world she cared about.
"Gregory," Sloan breathed, her jaw clenching so hard her teeth ached. "He couldn't touch the estate in Maine, so he’s going after Junie’s hospital."
Raphael reached out, his hand closing over her shoulder with a steady, unyielding pressure that grounded her instantly. He didn't offer empty comforts or polite reassurances. Instead, his dark eyes flashed with cold, absolute clarity.
"Daniel," Raphael called out without turning around.
May you like
"Boss?" Daniel materialized instantly from the hallway.
"Get the Gulfstream on the tarmac. Have our legal team in Boston pull every public record, mortgage filing, and hidden asset associated with Gregory Vance and his associates by noon. We are going to audit Mr. Vance’s entire life."
