I zoom it in closer, and the night vision on the camera captures it all. When Sloane said she pulled all the stops on the security, she wasn’t kidding.
The image pulls up a man I know all too well around Bell River. His name is Fred Geraldson—a contractor, the same one who placed our water main behind the house.
That son of a bitch.
No wonder everything has turned to shit. Horizon Group has had a Bell River source from the very beginning,and the sabotage wasn’t recent—it was patient, deliberate, dating back years.
I make a copy of this video and a screenshot before I text Tommy that I think I found the guy responsible for our break-in, along with the other issues.
Staring at his image only fuels the anger twisting in my gut, but underneath it, there’s relief—because this finally makes sense.
More importantly, it slams into me that this only came to light because of Sloane—because she protected this place in ways I never did.
Without her pushing for security, insurance, and backups without her covering the angles I dismissed—none of this would’ve been possible.
I need to tell her, but at the same time, I know she doesn’t want to see me.
The focus shouldn’t be Sloane right now—even if every instinct in me pulls in her direction. The focus is on getting the ranch back to working order, protected, and, more importantly, no more sabotage.
That begins by calling out Fred and making damn sure he knows my eyes are on him now.
I grab my keys and leave the office, making sure to text Tommy that I will be visiting my new friend if he’d like to stop by later.
I get a text back, my guess is from Tommy advising against me heading out there alone.
We’re in Texas, and guns are a part of our culture, but I’m not afraid of this guy.
But he should be afraid of me now.
twenty-one
Sloane
The feeling of doubt settles over me as I sit in the conference room at the county commission office, waiting for Roger to come in.
When I showed up here after my blowup with Gage, I was ready to bet it all and sign everything away without hesitation.
It wasn’t because I wanted to be spiteful or vindictive toward Gage; I wanted distance—space far enough away from him to breathe.
I can’t leave when a literal will is forcing me to stay. What makes matters worse is knowing that Gage really didn’t seem to care one way or another if I did sign it away anymore.
It’s like he’s already resigned himself to the idea that it's lost. I can’t shake the feeling that I broke him somehow, and now he’s just letting me give him a visceral beating while he’s already down.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. This isn’t how it is supposed to end.
My lungs fill with air as I take a deep breath to calm my nerves. I was so sure this was what I should do—that I’d be protecting myself, but now I’m realizing it isn’t so simple.
The door opens, and Roger steps in with a polished leather briefcase, his pressed suit, and slicked-back hair with not a single strand out of place.
He smiles at me and then takes a seat, placing the briefcase on the table before unsnapping it to pull out the agreement.
He doesn’t speak—just slides it in my direction and sets a fountain pen beside it.
I stare at it, perplexed. The guy couldn’t be much older than me, but he walks around like a villain out of a Bond film—the kind paid to close deals, not make them.
“I think you’ll find that the offer is quite lucrative,” he says as I look it over, my eyes widening slightly at all the zeros.
The offer is over seven figures, a number I will never see in my lifetime again. That alone should be enoughincentive to sign the land over—but then Gage’s face pops into my head, and my heart hurts.
