Ethan glanced down at his hand, realizing he was still holding onto one of her blueprints.

    It was different from the ones related to his casino — this one looked like a sketch for a high-rise building, notes scribbled in the margins in precise, small handwriting.

    He debated turning back to return it, but the hallway was empty now, and he didn''t exactly have time to go searching for a mystery engineer.

    Tucking the blueprint under his arm, he continued down the stairs.

    Ethan walked downstairs, the blueprints still in his hands.

    His initial instinct was to drop them off at the front desk and be on his way — after all, it wasn''t his problem.

    But as he approached the counter, something nagged at him.

    These weren''t just loose sheets of paper; they were carefully drawn plans, filled with precise measurements and detailed notes.

    Someone had put hours of work into these.

    Instead of setting them down and leaving, he glanced at the receptionist, a middle-aged woman with dark-rimmed glasses who was currently typing away on her computer.

    "Hey," he said, placing the blueprints on the counter. "These got dropped earlier. Do you know which department they belong to?"

    The receptionist barely looked up, her fingers still flying across the keyboard. "Let me check."

    She clicked a few times, then adjusted her glasses and finally met his gaze. "Structural Engineering. Third floor, east wing."

    Ethan nodded.

    He could''ve just left it at that, let them deal with it — but, for some reason, he didn''t. Maybe it was curiosity.

    Maybe it was the thought of someone frantically searching for missing documents.

    Either way, he picked the blueprints back up and turned on his heel.

    His strides were purposeful as he navigated the building, dodging employees carrying stacks of paperwork, murmuring into phones, or huddled in discussion.

    He weaved through the maze of desks and workstations, moving past whiteboards covered in hastily scrawled calculations and architects sketching out designs.

    This was certainly a busy place.

    Reaching the east wing, he paused outside a large open workspace where engineers were bent over drafting tables, some working on computers, others poring over physical blueprints much like the ones he held.

    Before he could scan the room for a familiar face, movement to his right caught his attention — and then he collided into someone.

    It wasn''t a hard impact, just enough to make both of them stumble slightly.

    There was a small beat before she stepped back. "I should probably go get these filed before something else happens to them. But seriously — thanks again."

    Ethan gave a short nod. "Anytime."

    As she turned and disappeared into the sea of workstations, Ethan found himself watching her for a moment longer than necessary.

    Then, shaking his head, he exhaled and made his way back toward the exit.

    Ethan slipped into his Porsche, shutting the door with a smooth click.

    He exhaled, resting his hands on the wheel for a moment.

    The meeting had gone well — better than expected.

    The construction team would be starting on the casino project next week, which meant he had a little breathing room.

    But he wasn''t the type to sit still.

    His phone vibrated on the passenger seat. Picking it up, he glanced at the screen. A message from Morgan .

    [Boss. Newton Corp is at it again. They''re here to make negotations]

    Ethan''s jaw tightened slightly as he read the text.

    He had known this would happen sooner or later after the first one.

    The food truck business had been doing well — too well — and that always put a target on your back.

    Especially with a place like Newton who wanted nothing more than to own your business till the bitter end.

    Morgan had been handling the day-to-day operations, but this wasn''t something Ethan was willing to ignore.

    He started the car, the low hum of the engine filling the silence as he pulled onto the road, heading toward the district where Morgan''s food truck took a shift.

    The streets were bustling by the time he arrived.

    The food truck scene had exploded in recent months, drawing in crowds from all over the city.

    The scent of grilled meats, spices, and fresh bread filled the air, mixing with the constant chatter of customers and the sizzling of food on hot surfaces.

    Ethan parked near one of his own trucks — The Grub Spot.

    The sleek black vehicle stood out among the rest, its logo bold and eye-catching.

    He could already see Morgan standing outside, arms crossed, his usual confident smirk missing.