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A soft knock on the door ended our conversation, but this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

“Come in,” I called. The door creaked open, revealing a petite older woman carrying a black bag.

“I’m looking for Mr. Stone,” she said, her gaze shifting between Cooper and me, trying to determine which one of us was the right Stone.

“You’re looking for me,” I said with a grunt. Then I pointed at Cooper. “Think about it. The offer still stands, and tack on another twenty grand a year, if that sweetens the deal.”

Cooper’s brows shot up, but he nodded. Without another word, he slipped out the door, leaving me alone with the woman as she began pulling makeup out of her bag.

“Are we doing a full face today?” she asked, rifling through her supplies.

“No,” I said curtly, cutting off the question before she could elaborate. “I need you to cover these.” Turning my neck, I pointed to the marks.

“Oh, my,” the woman gasped, clutching her neckline like she’d just witnessed a scandal unfold. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Were they really that bad?

As she got to work, I couldn’t help but smirk at the thought of Eleanor. If I ever saw her again, I planned on returning the favor, with interest.

Chapter 6

Colton

THIS DAMN TUX was suffocating me. I didn’t wear these things for a reason, and with each passing minute, I remembered exactly why.

Tawnie had the audacity to tell me I wasn’t allowed to have a drink until the end of the night. How the hell was I supposed to survive hours of small talk and fake smiles without a drop of liquor? Spoiler: I wasn’t.

Walking into the ballroom, I had to admit the place looked good. Damn good. I’d half expected it to resemble a cookie-cutter city event, but Stan had outdone himself. The space screamed Stone Ranch, with rustic touches that still managed to ooze sophistication. The ballroom floor was wide open, inviting people to dance if the urge struck. Servers flew around with trays of hors d’oeuvres, their white gloves adding an air of formality. Along one wall, tables were lined with items for the auction—weekend getaways, new cutlery sets, handmade china, and even expensive jewelry—all meticulously arranged.

A sharp tap on my shoulder dragged me out of my thoughts. I turned and came face-to-face with Bill Griess, an older man whose presence instantly made my blood boil.

Bill was an early investor in Stone Ranch when I first started. He was also one of the people who doubted me the loudest. When I pitched the idea of Stone Ranch, he’d taken one look at my last name, laughed in my face, and said I’d fail just like my parents. Bill had made it his mission to find the deepest dirt about me, going to lengths to dig up more about my past than I cared to share. How did he do it? To this day, I still didn’t know, but he’d weaponized my past to make my current life harder.

I gritted my teeth, already bracing for whatever thinly veiled insult he had up his sleeve.

Starting Stone Ranch hadn’t been easy. I’d secured my initial funding through a loan from Mrs. Shaker, a woman whose horses I’d cared for as a teenager. She was one of the few people who believed in me, despite knowing where I came from. When I told her about my idea—a series of dude ranches designed to teach people about ranch life—she’d been thrilled. Her connections with high-end clients and her unwavering faith in me opened doors I never thought possible.

Unfortunately, Bill had been one of those connections. Unwillingly, he’d played a role in making my dream a reality, thanks to Mrs. Shaker’s relentless charm and persuasion. And he hated every second of it.

Even now, Bill couldn’t let go of my family’s reputation or my past. And with the recent PR fiasco, he had plenty of ammunition to use against me.

Now here he was, standing in front of me, smug as ever, and I didn’t even have a drink to take the edge off.

“Nice to see you, Bill,” I said, forcing as much casualness into my tone as I could muster.

“Same to you, Colton.” His eyes swept over me, taking in my tux like he was on a mission to find the slightest wrinkle or speck of lint to mock me for.

My blood simmered, and my jaw tightened as I stared him down. He had no business being here. How he even got an invitation was beyond me.

“It’s been a while,” I added, slipping my hands into my pockets so I could clench my fists without being obvious.

Bill nodded, that smug smirk of his practically begging me to snap.

“All right,” I bit out, my patience evaporating. “You’ve got that infuriating look on your face. Just spit it out, whatever it is you came over here for.”

There was no point in dancing around pleasantries. Bill didn’t do pleasantries, and I wasn’t about to waste my energy pretending I cared. This was my empire, the one I built from the ground up, and I wasn’t about to play into his games.

“I heard about Marcus.”