“You wouldn’t.”
I met his eyes.
“You were very certain I wouldn’t do anything twenty minutes ago.”
He looked toward his father, expecting rescue.
His father didn’t move.
That frightened him more than anything else had.
Cynthia clasped her hands together.
“Please.
We can fix this.”
“What does fixing it look like?”
“Colton apologizes.
Reagan apologizes.
All of us do.
We start again.”
I glanced at the white roses on the counter.
“Start again from which part? The ceremony? The slap? Or the moment you realized I could suspend your money?”
Cynthia had no answer.
The bank representative checked one page and spoke to Lilah quietly.
She nodded.
Then Lilah turned to Colton’s father.
“Effective immediately, discretionary authority connected to the protected accounts is suspended pending review.
Access to certain Keystone-controlled facilities will also be reassessed.
The residence arrangement for this property is part of that review.”
His father’s face went gray.
“Residence arrangement?”
Lilah turned the control chart around again.
“The lakefront property is held through an entity controlled by Keystone Horizon.”
Cynthia gripped the edge of the table.
Reagan whispered, “This house is ours.”
“You live here,” I said.
“Our name is on the gate.”
“A name on a gate isn’t a deed.”
Colton stared at the floor.
He knew.
Maybe not all of it, but enough.
Months earlier, when he’d insisted on holding the wedding at the estate, he had spoken about it as if his family had owned every stone for generations.
I had let him talk.
I had hoped his exaggerations came from pride rather than entitlement.
Now I understood why he never wanted me looking too closely at the business.
He had built his identity on being the heir to things he did not control.
His mother began to cry.
Not loudly.
Just enough to change the room again.
“Please don’t put us out of our home.”
I looked at her.
“I haven’t said that.”
“But you could.”
The fear in her voice made Reagan’s face collapse.
She stepped toward me.
“I was joking about the coffee.
I swear.”
I said nothing.
“I shouldn’t have done it.”
Still nothing.
Her eyes filled.
Then, without anyone telling her to, Reagan sank to her knees on the kitchen floor.
