The Next Morning...
In a lavish lounge with golden lightning and a soft interior, Jonathan and Mr. Atticus were seen sitting at a mahogany table.
The serene view of the city of Hope outside the window only added to the ambiance.
Jonathan, dressed in a crisp white suit, sat on one end of a mahogany table, a relaxed smile playing on his lips. Opposite him, Mr. Atticus, always impeccable in his dark tailored suit, had a steely glint in his eyes.
"Mr. Jonathan," Mr. Atticus began smoothly, "I've heard a lot about your recent acquisition near Hope. It's prime land, perfect for development."
Jonathan took a sip from his wine glass, nodding appreciatively. "Yes, it's a beautiful piece of land. I've had my eye on it for a while."
Atticus leaned forward, the weight of his presence pressing down on the table. "I'm prepared to offer you a generous sum for it. Think of the profit you'd make."
