It was Julian Vance, the billionaire developer who controlled half the city’s skyline.

My phone buzzed in my hand.

It was an urgent message from Adrian’s personal attorney.

I stared at the glowing screen.

I slipped the phone back into my pocket without answering.

“Is everything all right, Claire?” Margaret asked, her eyes lingering on my hand.

“Just some unfinished business in Boston,” I said. “It can wait.”

Julian Vance stepped forward, extending a hand. His grip was dry and firm.

“Julian Vance,” he said. “I’ve read your report on the East River seawall. Your calculations on lateral earth pressure saved that project ten million dollars.”

“It was a simple matter of reassessing the soil-structure interaction,” I said.

“Most engineers prefer complicated, expensive answers,” Julian said. He gestured to the massive conference table.

Spread across the walnut wood were blueprints of the Chicago lakeside site.

“We have a problem with the landfill zone near the pier,” Julian said, leaning over the drawings.

He pointed a finger at the southern bend.

“The municipal engineers say we can’t build the residential tower there without a two-year soil stabilization phase,” he said.