He Lost Me to His Best Friend novel Chapter 696

"Both Thorne Industries and Flynn Group are running incredibly tight on cash right now," Julian continued smoothly. "The second the project gets slapped with a regulatory stop-work order, their overhead costs will snowball and crush them."

He smiled. "We won't even have to block them ourselves. To stop the financial bleeding, they'll be the ones begging the city to let them revise the blueprints. After all, they already own the land. If they can't develop it, it becomes a multi-million dollar paperweight."

Madeleine's brow finally relaxed completely, and she nodded with deep satisfaction, her eyes gleaming with approval. "Using their own momentum against them. Brilliant. You two are quite the pair—one anticipates the disaster and builds the fail-safe, and the other knows exactly how to apply the chokehold to force their hand. If you ask me, you're a match made in heaven."

Scarlett and Julian both flushed instantly, the tips of their ears turning bright red.

The air in the kitchen suddenly felt very warm. Not daring to meet Julian's eyes, Scarlett quickly pivoted. "Professor! The taro is perfectly mashed. Let's start assembling!"

Madeleine chuckled warmly, seeing right through the deflection. "Alright, alright. Let's get to work so we can feast tonight. I'll throw together a few side dishes, and we can open a nice bottle. How does that sound?"

Julian cleared his throat, a small smile playing on his lips. "I actually have a bottle of vintage single malt in my car. A fifty-year-aged reserve someone gifted me recently. I'll go grab it."

He turned and headed out the door to retrieve the liquor.

Madeleine expertly rolled the taro dough into perfect little wrappers with a wooden pin, while Scarlett masterfully scooped the savory pork filling, pinching the edges into plump, beautiful ravioli.

By the time Julian returned with the bottle, the water was boiling. Working together, they soon had a steaming, fragrant pot of ravioli ready to eat, alongside several mouth-watering side dishes Madeleine had whipped up with effortless skill.

Unshackled by material obsession, entirely focused on intellectual richness and finding kindred spirits.

By the end of the night, Scarlett felt as if her entire worldview had been elevated. When they finally headed for the door, she was floating—partly from the enlightenment, mostly from the single malt. Her feet felt like they were sinking into clouds, and before she knew it, she stumbled hard over the porch step, pitching forward into the dark.

Just before she hit the ground, a strong hand caught her waist from behind.

She crashed backward into a broad, solid chest that smelled faintly of crisp pine.