Masuk
Three months after the Copenhagen summit, the Green City movement was surging forward. Sites were breaking ground across the country, and international partnerships were taking shape. Riley had been working around the clock to coordinate the expansion, and when Kael Vance reached out with an unexpected offer, she hesitated—but ultimately decided to give him a chance.THREE WEEKS EARLIERKael sat across from Riley in the Green City office, his expression humbled and sincere.“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since Copenhagen,” he said, pushing a folder across the table. “Vance Energy’s investigation uncovered things I never knew about—how far my executives went to protect our profits. I’ve stepped down as CEO, sold off our fossil fuel divisions, and want to use what’s left of the company to support your work.”Riley studied him carefully. “Why now? You were determined to stop us just months ago.”“Seeing what you built—what Bella’s building in the highlands—it opened my eyes,” he said
Six months after the Port Ashton groundbreaking, the Green City model had taken hold across three regions—each site tailored to local needs, each built with community partnership at its core. The invitation to Copenhagen had opened doors to global interest, but as Riley prepared for the summit, a new threat emerged from an unexpected source.Kael Vance leaned against the window of his penthouse office, watching ships move across the harbor far below. The CEO of Vance Energy had built his empire on fossil fuels, and the rapid spread of green building initiatives was eating into his bottom line. His assistant stepped into the room, laying a folder on the desk.“All the data you requested, sir,” she said. “The Green City projects are not only reducing energy demand—they’re attracting major investors away from traditional infrastructure.”Kael flipped through the pages, his jaw tight. “They think they can rewrite the rules of development? We’ve spent decades building this economy. I won’t
The morning sun cast long shadows across the construction site in the coastal town of Port Ashton—the first of the three new Green City locations. Riley knelt in the dirt, running her fingers through the soil as a local farmer explained how they’d integrate agricultural plots into the neighborhood design.“These raised beds will let families grow their own food year-round,” Old Henry said, patting the earth firmly. “Even during heavy rains, the drainage system you designed will keep the roots dry.”Liam joined them, holding a tablet with blueprints. “We’ve already trained 50 workers from the area—all certified in green building techniques. They’ll be leading the construction here.”Riley stood up, brushing dirt from her jeans. “That’s exactly what we need. But we’ve got a new challenge—word’s spread fast, and communities from all over are reaching out. We can’t expand fast enough on our own.”Just then, her phone buzzed. It was a video call from Minister Chen, one of the government of
Rain hammered against the roof of the site office as Riley stared at the weather radar on her screen—red and orange swirls spinning toward Beijing china, marking the path of a strong tropical storm. “It’s going to hit us directly in 48 hours,” Liam said, pulling the door shut against the wind. “The latest forecast says winds up to 150 kph, heavy flooding expected in low-lying areas.” “Our first phase buildings are almost done,” Riley said, her jaw tight. “But the temporary shelters we set up for the community aren’t strong enough to withstand this.” Kael burst in, water dripping from his jacket. “The government’s evacuation centers are already at capacity. We don’t have time to move everyone to safer ground.” Riley stood up, slamming her hand on the table. “Then we build them something that can withstand it. Now.” Two days later, the storm was closing in, but the Green City site was buzzing with frantic energy. Riley had rallied every worker, supplier, and volunteer she could fi
The morning sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Riley’s restored office at Sterling Tower. The space looked different now—gone were the expensive trinkets and designer furniture she’d once filled it with, replaced by blueprints, construction photos, and a large map of Manila’s flood-prone communities. Liam leaned against her desk, pointing at a section of the plan. “If we shift the building layout ten meters east, we can preserve those mangroves. They’ll act as a natural barrier against storm surges, and it’ll actually cut long-term maintenance costs by twenty percent.” Riley nodded, marking the change on her tablet. “Perfect. Let’s run it by the engineering team first thing. And make sure we involve the community leaders—they know the area better than any of our consultants.” A knock on the door made them look up. Robert Sterling stood there, his face etched with lines she hadn’t noticed before. He was dressed not in his usual tailored suit, but in a simple butto
The neon lights of San leonard red-light district flickered against the rain-slicked streets. Riley huddled in the passenger seat of Liam’s beat-up sedan, her designer coat looking wildly out of place among the street vendors and late-night crowds. “Are you sure about this?” she asked, watching a group of men in hard hats stumble out of a dive bar. Liam gripped the steering wheel, his jaw tight. “Bella’s new contractor—Sanchez Builders—has their main office here. I did some digging. They’ve been linked to three shoddy construction projects in the last two years. All of them were rushed, all of them cut corners on materials.” He parked the car in a dark alley, and they crept toward a grimy building with a faded sign that read SANCHEZ & SONS CONSTRUCTION. Through a cracked window on the second floor, they could see light spilling out. “Wait here,” Liam whispered, already moving toward the fire escape. Riley grabbed his arm. “No way. If we’re doing this, we do it together.” Liam h







