Isabel glanced down at the open ledger, her brow knitting tighter as her eyes scanned the top document. The blueprint was dated exactly one week before the fatal accident. Her quick, trained eyes, having studied architecture before her marriage, instantly noticed a structural discrepancy in the drawing. The setbacks, the orientation of the primary guest cottages, and the structuralfootprints didn't align with the property's narrow, sandy coastal frontage down the road. They were designed for a much wider, deeper interior block. Her gaze moved rapidly to the lower right corner of the linen paper, where her breath caught in her throat. There was a handwritten note in the margin that she instantly recognized to be her fathers:Sweet Blossom Bay Campground Site.
"Isabel, they were moving forward with the development," Darius explained gently, watching her face. "I don't know why our parents gave you the impression they were backing off. They traveled to this island specifically to negotiate terms with George Heart, who Dad told me was finally ready to strike a deal."
A sudden surge of deep confusion blurred through her mind, but she instantly pushed it away, her anger flaring back as she assumed he was trying to handle her with the same calculated corporate manipulation he had used during the West Palm Beach crisis.
"Tell me the truth, Darius," Isabel grated, her eyes narrowing to tiny slits. "Is it true that your office just commissioned a priority investigator to pull the complete financial dockets for the owner and his family?"
Darius stiffened, his eyes narrowing slightly as he met her gaze.
"Yes, I did authorize a baseline financial review of the family holdings," Darius admitted, his voice perfectly steady. "But that is a standard, completely above-board practice during a hostile corporate acquisition. Wait, you think?—"
"I don't think, I know," Isabel interrupted, her voice trembling with pure disgust. "This is West Palm Beach all over again, but this time you're running the play with a personal grudge. I can'tbelieve you'd stoop this low.” Her eyes burned into him. “Baxter low.” She spat at him in disgust. “You found a way to use Emma, me, and even Penny to worm your way into the Heart’s personal lives just to find a structural weakness."
"Isabel..." Darius hissed, his face going pale as he took a step forward. "That's an outrageous?—"
"Oh, can it, Darius," Isabel spat, cutting him off cleanly. "This entire acquisition is nothing more than some long-standing, toxic vendetta you've wrapped up in the noble title of making our parents' last dream come true."
"Isabel, that's not what happened!" Darius yelled, slamming his hands down on his desk in anger.
"Save it," Isabel hissed, backing toward the office door. "I've seen this exact scene play out before, when you nearly ruined our own cousin's life over her husband's West Palm Beach hotel. I saw what you allowed to happen to our own family, Darius. I know exactly what you're capable of when a project is on the line."
"Isabel..." Darius tried again, his hand reaching out across the mahogany desk, his voice laced with a sudden, desperate strain. "Listen to me?—"
"Just stop," Isabel said, a sudden, heavy wave of physical exhaustion washing over her as her shoulders slumped. "Emma and I have gone along on your 'vacations' for years, knowing they were actually scouting trips for the firm. We went because we were happy just to be near you, to travel with you, and to help you look over the local areas. We trusted you."
"Issy..." Darius murmured, using the old childhood shorthand as he stepped around the desk.
She pulled back instantly, her gaze locking onto his face with an expression of profound disgust.
"But this time, you promised us this was a real vacation. Emma has finally found true friends here, Darius. She's happy for the first time in years. You led us to believe we were building a permanent sanctuary for her on this coast. I've made real friends. Friends who are going to look at us and think we betrayed them right alongside you." She clenched her jaw tightly, her tone dropping into a dangerous whisper as something hit her. "Tell me something, Darius. Does Linda know who you really are?"
The room fell into an absolute, suffocating silence. Darius closed his eyes, his mouth tightening into a hard line as he refused to meet her gaze.
"Answer her," Penny’s voice commanded, cutting through the quiet as she stepped into the office from the hallway threshold. "Darius, does Linda know your actual identity? It does seem strange that she’s gone on walks and on a date with you. She seems so easy and relaxed around you."
“Darius!” Isabel said through gritted teeth, her heart dropping as she stared at her brother in disbelief.
Darius opened his eyes, his expression shifting into a defensive, guarded hedge.
"I'm not entirely sure. If she does, she's never said anything to me explicitly. The topic has simply never come up between us,” Darius admitted. “I don’t think we’ve ever exchanged last names.”
Isabel and Penny stared at him, a unified look of utter disbelief passing between them. Something inside her snapped at thatpoint. This was her brother taking this vendetta of his a step too far.
"You have exactly one day to tell Linda the truth yourself," Isabel said through gritted teeth, her voice trembling with cold finality. "Because that's exactly how long it's going to take for us to pack our things and move out of this house."
Darius looked at her in immediate alarm, his hands coming up. "Move? Isabel, you don't have to do something this drastic. Calm down, and let's sit down and talk about this rationally."
"You have plenty of time to talk about it with Linda," Isabel pointed out, turning her back on him completely, saying over her shoulder. "You have one day, Darius, and then I'll tell Linda everything."
"Enjoy your empty house," Penny added, her eyes flashing with a cold, unyielding light.
"Penny..." Darius said, turning toward his executive director with a startled, panicked expression. "What are you saying?"
"As of this moment, I am formally tendering my resignation from Wayne Group International," Penny informed him, her voice entirely professional and level. "Effective immediately. Under the terms of my executive contract, I am obligated to provide a two-month notice period, but as the corporate database logs will verify, I have over forty-five days of accrued, untaken paid vacation leave from the past three years. I am exercising my right under Florida labor conventions to offset my active service immediately, and I'll be moving out of this house alongside Isabel and Emma within the hour."
"Penny, no! Don't do this to the company," Darius breathed, his face going completely ashen.
"It's already done," Penny told him, taking a single step forward and slamming Pete’s silver digital dictaphone flat onto the mahogany desk. "Before you do anything else today, you might want to listen to the end of this audio file. A local server was recording content for her restaurant's social media stream while you were at the diner with Baxter.” She gave him a smug smile as his brows lifted. “The woman’s device accidentally picked up the entire conversation between your cousin and his Charleston consultant after you left the table. It might save you the trouble of clearing up another one of Baxter's compliance disasters, and it might just stop the firm from getting sued for tortious interference."
