The faint, bitter scent of day-old coffee hung in the air of Maya’s office. A graveyard of crumpled napkins and a half-empty sugar dispenser sat on the corner of her desk, relics of a long, sleepless night spent dissecting Jed Stone’s insulting offer.
The words still echoed in Cole’s mind: a merciful end. It was the language of a predator, cloaked in the guise of compassion.
Maya paced the worn patch of carpet in front of the window, her arms crossed tightly over her chest as if holding herself together. The fury that had blazed in her eyes yesterday had cooled into something harder, more dangerous: resolve.
“It has to be him,” she said, her voice low and steady.
“The timing is too perfect. He shows up, plays the charming local hero, and then, just as we’re on our knees, he materializes with an offer from some ‘anonymous developer’? It’s textbook.”
Cole leaned back in his chair, the wood creaking in protest.
“It’s more than textbook, it’s a classic hostile takeover playbook. Devalue the asset, create a crisis of confidence, then swoop in and buy it for pennies on the dollar.”
The words felt sour in his own mouth. He knew the playbook because he’d seen it run a dozen times in his own world, sometimes by people he had lunch with.
The thought made a fresh wave of guilt wash over him.
“But we can’t prove it,” Maya countered, stopping her pacing to fix him with a look of intense frustration.
“We have no proof he cut the power lines or contaminated the well. All we have is a lowball offer, which isn’t a crime. He’s been so careful.”
The office door opened without a knock, and Ben Carter stepped inside, holding a steaming mug in one hand and a folded newspaper in the other. His expression was grim, the usual gentle lines around his eyes etched deep with concern.
He closed the door softly behind him, the click of the latch sounding unnervingly final.
“I think I’ve got something,” he said, his voice a low rumble. He placed the mug on Maya’s desk. “Figured you could use this.”
Maya’s posture softened slightly at the gesture.
“Thanks, Ben. What did you find?”
Ben pulled up a spare chair, its legs scraping against the floorboards. He took a slow sip from his own mug before speaking, gathering his thoughts.
“Jed’s offer got me thinking. A man like that, so slick, he doesn’t just show up out of the blue. So I made a few calls this morning. My cousin Sarah, down at the county records office? I had her look into inquiries made on this parcel of land.”
Cole leaned forward, his forearms resting on his knees. This was it.
The gut feeling he’d had about Jed was about to meet reality.
“Jed Stone filed a preliminary survey request for this property and the three adjacent lots six months ago,” Ben said, his gaze steady. “Long before the first pipe burst.”
Maya’s breath hitched. “Six months… He’s been planning this for half a year.”
The charm, the offers of help, the friendly advice—it all replayed in her mind, now tainted with a sinister motive. Every smile was a lie, every kind word a calculated move.
“That’s not all,” Ben continued, his voice dropping even lower.
“I called an old buddy of mine, Hank, who’s been in real estate in this state for forty years. I asked him if he’d ever heard of Jed Stone. He had.”
Ben paused, letting the weight of his next words settle in the quiet room.
“For five years, up until last spring, Jed was the lead acquisitions agent for a firm out of Denver. A company called Apex Land Development.”
Cole felt a cold knot form in his stomach. He knew the name. Apex was infamous.
They were corporate vultures, known for their scorched-earth tactics. They’d dismantled family businesses, torn down historic landmarks, and bulldozed protected habitats, all in the name of profit.
They were everything he claimed to be running from.
“They’re sharks, Ben,” Cole said, the name leaving a metallic taste in his mouth.
“Their entire business model is built on what’s happening here. They find a property they want, bleed it dry through sabotage and legal pressure, then buy the carcass for cheap.”
Maya sank into her chair, the fight momentarily draining from her face. “So the ‘anonymous developer’… it’s Apex.”
“Almost certainly,” Cole confirmed.
“Jed left them to go ‘independent,’ probably so he could do their dirty work at arm’s length. If he gets caught, they have plausible deniability.”
The pieces clicked into place, forming a picture that was uglier than any of them had imagined. Jed wasn’t just an opportunist; he was a professional saboteur, a corporate hitman sent to destroy Maya’s home and her father’s legacy.
A heavy silence descended on the office. They had their man, their motive, their method.
But Maya was right—they still had no actionable proof. Just a chain of damning coincidences.
“I need to make some calls,” Maya said finally, her voice regaining its steel.
“See if our lawyer can find a corporate link between Jed and Apex that’s more current. Thank you, Ben. This is… this is everything.”
Ben just nodded, a grim satisfaction on his face. He watched as Maya picked up the phone, her back straight, her focus absolute.
He turned his attention to Cole.
“Let’s give her some space,” he said quietly, gesturing toward the door. “Walk with me.”
Outside, the air was crisp with the promise of autumn. The towering pines stood as silent witnesses, their scent a clean counterpoint to the ugliness they’d just uncovered.
They walked toward the old workshop, their boots crunching on the gravel path.
“You know,” Ben said, his gaze fixed on the lodge’s main entrance, “you remind me a bit of her father.”
Cole’s stride faltered for a fraction of a second. “I do?”
“Not in looks,” Ben clarified, a small, sad smile touching his lips.
“In the way you work. Arthur was like that. He couldn’t just fix something; he had to make it better. He saw the whole system, not just the broken part. He’d spend a whole day reinforcing a railing that wasn’t even wobbly yet, just because he could see where it would wear out in ten years.”
Ben stopped near a weathered wooden bench that overlooked the lake, a bench Cole had repaired just a week ago. He ran a hand over the smooth, sanded armrest.
“Arthur built this bench himself,” Ben said.
“Brought it out here after Maya’s mother passed. He’d sit here for hours. Said it was the only place he could think straight. He poured everything he had into this place—his money, his sweat, his heart. A few years after he opened, some big hotel chain came sniffing around. Offered him a fortune for the land. More money than he’d ever seen.”
Cole leaned against a pine tree, his heart beginning to pound a slow, heavy rhythm against his ribs. He felt like a man listening to his own eulogy.
“Arthur turned them down flat,” Ben continued, his eyes distant with memory.
“They tried to pressure him, sent lawyers, made threats. But Arthur held his ground. I remember what he told their head negotiator. He said, ‘A man’s worth isn’t in the deals he makes, but in what he builds and protects. This lodge isn’t a line on a balance sheet. It’s a home. And it’s not for sale.’”
The words struck Cole with the force of a physical blow. A man’s worth isn’t in the deals he makes, but in what he builds and protects.
He was Cole Sterling, the deal-maker, the heir to a corporate empire built on acquisitions and bottom lines. He was here under a false name, running a deception that made Jed’s corporate espionage feel like a pale imitation.
He was pretending to be a builder, a protector, while his very identity was that of the men Arthur had fought against.
The guilt was a physical thing now, a leaden weight in his chest. He looked at Ben’s honest, weathered face and felt a profound sense of shame.
He looked back toward the lodge, where Maya was inside, fighting for her father’s legacy, trusting him—Cal, the handyman—as her closest ally.
He had fallen in love with a woman who valued integrity above all else, a woman whose father had defined his life by it. And every single moment he spent with her was a lie.
A necessary lie, he had told himself, to get the job done. But it wasn’t just a job anymore.
It was her life. It was fast becoming his, too.
“He sounds like he was a great man,” Cole said, his voice hoarse.
“The best,” Ben agreed, his gaze returning to Cole. He studied him for a long moment, his eyes filled with a wisdom that seemed to see right through the worn-out flannel and into the core of him.
“Maya sees that same strength in you, you know. That same builder’s spirit. Don’t let her down, Cal.”
The simple, earnest plea was more damning than any accusation. Don’t let her down. It was the one thing he was guaranteed to do.
The truth would eventually come out, and when it did, it would detonate with more destructive force than any of Jed’s sabotage. It would shatter her trust, her faith, and whatever fragile, beautiful thing was growing between them.
Maya appeared on the porch, her phone pressed to her ear. She caught his eye and gave a small, determined nod, a silent message that the fight was on.
Cole nodded back, his gut twisting. He was trapped.
To save the lodge, he had to continue the lie. To be the man Maya deserved, he had to tell the truth.
He stood between the woman he loved and the enemy at her gates, knowing with a sickening certainty that, in her eyes, he was about to become both.