"But we need the help of Dr. Debbi Wineberg to do it," Baxter told them.
Owen felt a tiny, quiet spark of understanding finally begin to flicker behind his ribs. He looked at Baxter, then at Darius, mapping the structural coordinates of the trap.
"Baxter has been actively courting Debbi's professional trust for nearly seven months now, playing the part of the disgruntled, exiled Wayne executive," Darius informed the table. "And the strategy paid off. It turns out the internal mole we suspected within the Wayne Group was exactly who we thought it was. Rory, who is Baxter’s father’s sister’s son who works in Baxter’s department. He has been feeding our company's information to South Coast Hotels and setting Baxter up to take the fall in exchange for offshore equity."
"But we need significantly more leverage on the Winebergs than just exposing a corporate mole," Baxter stated, leaning forward. "To protect the Hearts Hotel permanently, we have to completely discredit the family's public platform and stop Thompson from securing the governor nomination."
"That night I had dinner with Anna to thank her for the Calusa survey," Darius explained, his gaze locking with Owen's, "was the exact night Anna told me she had a plan, and that she could perhaps help us secure the precise leverage we need."
“And how are we going to do that?” Owen asked, his eyes narrowing as a sneaky suspicion surfaced.
“We are going to first discredit Hyrum and Debbi,” Gill answered, her voice soft but very steady as she drew Owen’s focus back to her side of the table. “We are going to expose Hyrum as a fraud, then systematically take down Debbi, and in turn, her brother.” Her clear eyes held Owen's with absolute conviction. “I finally have the original, uncorrupted research drafts and dated laboratory logs. It is the definitive proof that Debbi plagiarized our work on that Charleston dig, taking credit for the peer-reviewed sections while framing me for the pieces that were deliberately fabricated.”
“And we’ve recently uncovered the offshore banking trail where Thompson routed campaign contributions to buy off the regional academic journal’s board to help his sister bury those drafts,” Darius added, a look of profound satisfaction settling on his features.
“How do you plan to discredit them on a national scale?” Isabel asked, leaning forward on her elbows.
“We’ve already started,” Baxter said, a slow, calculated grin spreading across his face. “With the Charleston commercial development project.”
“The specific acreage we purchased was chosen strategically,” Darius explained, gesturing with his hands. “It is situated in a prime coastal location, and it just so happens that South Coast Hotels has been trying to acquire that exact parcel for nearly two decades. Ever wonder why Thompson came at you so aggressively when Gill broke off her engagement to him, Owen?”
“I assumed he was simply jealous and angry,” Owen said, his brow furrowing as he recalled the sheer vindictiveness of the political family.
“That’s exactly what I believed at the time too,” Gill admitted, offering a small, rueful shake of her head.
“Turns out that was only a convenient cover story,” Darius said, triumphant. “Thompson desperately wanted that piece of land, but the estate covenants prevented commercial sale to external corporations. There was only one legal loophole he could use to bypass those restrictions and bring it into the South Coast portfolio.”
“How?” Owen and Isabel asked simultaneously.
“By marrying me,” Gill told him, her voice quiet. “The land was left directly to me by my maternal grandfather.”
A sudden shock sang through Owen’s veins. He stared at her, his mind struggling to process the scale of the deception. “Was the parcel really so valuable that a rising political figure would orchestrate a marriage just to secure it?”
“It is the historic waterfront tract running along East Bay Street, right on the edge of the Charleston harbor,” Darius told him, his analytical eyes locked on Owen’s face. “In terms of commercial valuation and deep-water access, it’s one of the most lucrative, tightly held pieces of real estate in the entire historic district.”
Owen nearly choked, his eyes widening in sheer disbelief as the sheer scale of the estate's value hit him. He had known Gill’s family had deep roots in South Carolina, but he had never dreamed they held a prized crown jewel of historic waterfront property.
“Anna was the one who helped me establish contact with Gill,” Baxter explained, turning his head in unison with Gill.
As they moved, Owen saw the subtle, unguarded shift in their eyes—a quiet, deeply protective look of mutual devotion that passed between them. A sudden, quiet squeeze from his heart confirmed the reality. Gill and Baxter were in love. He felt no jealousy, only a profound sense of relief for his past, and a deep gratitude for the warm, solid presence of Isabel beside him.
“We worked together in complete secrecy for months, establishing the legal parameters,” Baxter continued.
“I brought Gill into the fold the moment Darius initiated the Calusa survey,” Anna explained, her expression warm. “She was more than happy to return to Charleston and fight back against the people who had stolen her career.”
“We staged a massive, highly public negotiation,” Baxter continued, his grin returning. “A bitter corporate tug-of-war. I spent weeks pretending to fight aggressively with Gill and her family's estate trustees over the acquisition terms.”
“The entire time, our vice president, Rory, was feeding all the progress reports he intercepted to the Winebergs,” Darius told the table, his eyes flashing with a cold, protective anger. “He thought he was being a clever corporate mole, but he was actually building our paper trail for us. Every leak he transmitted was linked directly to Baxter's cloned profile so that Baxter would eventually take the fall when the project collapsed.”
“But we officially acquired the land,” Baxter said, leaning back in his chair with a quiet chuckle.
“We were all set to begin the initial grading,” Darius said. “Then, we struck those planted artifacts.”
“The sharks took the bait exactly as we anticipated,” Anna told them, a rare, bright laugh escaping her lips. “The moment the state archaeologists were notified, Hyrum and his private consultant team flooded the site to personally inspect the findings, and they immediately issued an official report.”
“The artifacts were real, of course,” Darius said. “We received the state notification yesterday. The East Bay Street project has been temporarily shut down, pending a full federal heritage review.”
“They walked right into our trap,” Anna said, her eyes shining with triumph, and even Penny let out a soft snort of amusement.
