Chapter 243:

🍙 🍙 🍙 🍙 🍙

I pulled myself together and took out the list of alternative properties Sonny had given me.

My eyes scanned past the suburban warehouses and finally settled on a property on Linden Street.

Linden Street. It was an area where the middle class and artisans gathered. Not as glamorous, but full of life and vitality.

The property there was an old two-story building with a small backyard. The price was only one-third of the Magnolia Street townhouse.

It wasn’t as perfect. The location, size, and environment were all a step down.

But it was cheap, practical, and would allow my project to start immediately without draining all my funds.

I could build a small, safety-compliant distillation and purification workshop in the backyard. The first floor could be for storage and packaging, the second for offices and a lounge.

𝖡𝘦 𝘵𝗁𝘦 𝖿𝗂r𝘴𝘵 𝗍𝗈 re𝗮d 𝘰𝗻 𝗀𝗮l𝗇о𝗏𝘦𝘭ѕ.сo𝗆

This was what a real businesswoman looked like. Starting from a modest workshop, not moving into the finest commercial district from the very first day.

I drew a circle around the Linden Street property.

I had made my decision. I would give up the unrealistic fantasy and choose the practical path.

I called for Lyle and had him send a message to Sonny Sawyer at Golden Key Realty, telling him I would visit again tomorrow morning to discuss purchasing the Linden Street property.

Lyle took the order and left, his movements swift and efficient.

I looked out the window. Although I felt a pang of regret for giving up the perfect place on Magnolia Street, the sense of stability from making a practical choice gave me back a feeling of control.

Tomorrow would be the day my “Morning Star” project officially set sail.

Haven Kramer POV

The next morning, I arrived at Golden Key Property Agency as planned.

The moment I pushed open the door, I sensed that the atmosphere today was unusually strange.

The hall was crowded. All the agents were away from their desks, gathered in a circle, pointing and whispering at the center of the hall, their faces a mixture of amusement and restraint.

Sonny Sawyer was waiting anxiously for me at the door. When he saw me, he immediately came over, his face a mix of embarrassment and a poorly hidden excitement.

“Luna… uh, Madam Kramer, you’re here,” he said in a low voice. “Something happened inside.”

I followed his gaze to the center of the crowd. A stout, lavishly dressed woman was dragging a man by his collar, like a dead dog.

And the unlucky man being dragged, his face bruised and his hair a mess, was none other than the arrogant senior agent from yesterday—Rick Snyder.

As the woman dragged him, she yelled in a booming voice, “You liar! You thief! You dare to steal my husband’s deal? Do you think the Croft family’s money is that easy to take?”

Rick Snyder was a wreck, begging for mercy. “Mrs. Croft, I was wrong! I’ll never do it again! Please let go, we can talk this out!”

From the whispers around me, I quickly pieced together what had happened.

.

.

.