Chapter 40
Kane
“Protect you from what?” I ask, finding my voice at last. The woman before me—my sister, apparently—looks so solid, so real, yet everything I thought I knew keeps shifting beneath my feet.
Ella’s eyes meet mine, and I see something familiar in them—the same wariness I’ve carried my whole life.
“From Mikhail Petrova,” she says, her voice dropping. “The son of my mother's husband—my stepfather. Tomas moved me from Ireland to Canada eight years ago, when Nora was born, to keep a closer eye on things because Mikhail was looking for me. He’s determined to marry me.”
“Marry you?” Kori asks beside me, her hand tightening on my knee. “Why would he want to marry you?”
Ella’s laugh is bitter. “Power. Money. Revenge. After his father found out about my mother and Tomas's affair, he wanted control of everything.”
I struggle to process this. “So, you’ve been hiding here all this time?”
“Not exactly hiding,” she corrects me. “Living cautiously. Tomas purchased this property under multiple shell companies. On paper, I’m Eleanor Shaw, a widow raising her daughter in peaceful obscurity.”
“And the treasure hunt?” Declan asks. “The clues leading us here?”
“That was all Tomas,” Ella says, a complicated mixture of affection and exasperation crossing her face.
“He knew his time was running out. The dementia was progressing faster than anyone expected. He wanted you all to find me, to protect me and Nora after he was gone. I knew when he stopped showing up a little over a year and a half ago, his dementia had progressed. Dr. Reid confirmed it and also told me of his passing.”
“Why not just tell us about you?” I demand, frustration bubbling up. “Why the elaborate game?”
“Would you have believed him?” she counters, her gaze direct. “After all his lies, all his manipulations? Or would you have assumed I was just another one of his schemes?”
The question hits me like a punch to the gut because I know the answer. I wouldn’t have believed him. I would have dismissed Ella as fiction, just another MacGallan myth designed to control us from beyond the grave.
“Tomas thought the journey was important,” she continued more gently. “That you needed to work together, to form bonds as siblings before meeting me. Before learning about the danger that might come with knowing me.”
“Danger,” Connor repeats flatly. “How dangerous is this Mikhail person?”
“Dangerous enough that Tomas hired security for us,” Ella says, gesturing toward a discreet camera in the corner of the room. “Dangerous enough that he made Malcolm promise to tell you I didn’t exist if anything happened to him before you completed the journey he laid out.”
“Wait,” Wren interrupts, leaning forward. “Are you saying we’re in danger just by being here?”
Ella hesitates, then nods. “It’s possible. Mikhail has resources and connections. If he’s been watching any of you, he might follow the trail here eventually.”
“Great,” Rory mutters. “Another homicidal Russian. Just what we needed.”
I barely register his words, too caught up in staring at the woman across from me— our sister, our blood. All my life, I’ve been alone, and now, suddenly, I’m drowning in family —brothers, sisters, even a niece. It’s too much to process at once.
“Did you know about any of us?” I ask the question that’s been burning inside me since this all began.
Her expression softens. “Yes. Tomas told me everything when I was sixteen. About all your mothers. About you, Kane, and how he paid someone to adopt you. About how he only ever acknowledged you, Declan, as his son and rightful clan leader, because your mother was the only woman he was ever married to.”
“Well, you’re older than me, so that just proves what I’ve always said, he was a man whore and a prick,” Declan sighs heavily. “So, what happens now?” he asks, ever practical. “Dad brought us together, but he’s gone. You’re here. What did he expect us to do?”
Ella stands and moves to a sideboard where a wooden box sits. She opens it, removing a thick envelope sealed with wax.
“His final instructions,” she says, returning to hand it to Declan. “To be opened now that we’re all together.”
Declan breaks the seal, unfolding several pages of heavy stationery. His eyes scan the contents, his expression unreadable.
“Well?” Kat prompts impatiently. “What does it say?”
Declan clears his throat and begins to read aloud.
“To my children, whom I have wronged in so many ways. If you’re reading this, then you have completed the journey I set before you.
You’ve found each other, and most importantly, you’ve found Ella and Nora, who need your protection more than you know. ”
I feel Kori’s hand squeeze mine as Declan continues.
“‘The property where you now stand is called Wolfcreek Ranch. It spans five thousand acres, including the lake, forests, and grazing land beyond. It is a working ranch with cattle and horses, though the operation has been scaled back during Ella’s residence for security reasons.”
Declan pauses, his eyes meeting mine briefly before returning to the letter.
“‘The ranch belongs to all of you—my children, my legacy. But its operation and management, along with a controlling interest of sixty percent ownership, I leave to Kane.”
The room goes completely silent. I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut.
“‘Kane,’” Declan continues reading, his voice carefully neutral, “‘whom I wronged most grievously by giving away. I cannot undo that decision, though it has haunted me every day since. In you, I see the best parts of myself—the determination, the independence, the unwillingness to be controlled. You are more worthy of the MacGallan name than I ever was.’”
My throat tightens. I’ve spent my entire life angry at this man I never knew, and now his words from beyond the grave threaten to unravel me.
“‘I know this inheritance may seem like another manipulation, another attempt to control you from the grave. Perhaps it is. But it is also my attempt at atonement. I give you Wolfcreek not as a burden but as a home—something I denied you from birth. A place where you might put down roots if you choose, or simply a safe harbor in the storm.’”
Kori’s arm slips around my waist, anchoring me as the words wash over me.
“‘To my other children,' Declan reads on, 'I leave equal shares of the remaining forty percent, along with my hope that you will support your brother as he comes to terms with his birthright. Wolfcreek is meant to be a sanctuary for all of you, a place where the MacGallan family can heal the fractures I created.’”
I look around at the faces of my siblings—some shocked, others carefully composed. Ella watches me with an expression I can’t quite decipher.
“‘The formal paperwork is with my attorneys in Calgary,” Declan finishes. “Along with individual letters for each of you. The legal transfer will be completed upon your request.” He folds the papers carefully. “It’s signed simply ‘Your father, Tomas.’”
No one speaks for a long moment. I feel the weight of everyone’s eyes on me, waiting for my reaction.
“I don’t want it,” I say finally, the words coming out harsher than intended. “I don’t know the first thing about running a ranch.”
“Actually,” Ella says softly, “you do. Or at least, you have the instinct for it. Tomas showed me pictures of you working with horses at that stable in Toronto. He said you had a natural way with them.”
“He was watching me?” The idea sends a chill down my spine.
Ella nods. “He watched all of you from a distance. He was... complicated. Controlling, manipulative, and selfish in many ways. But he did love you, Kane. In his own broken way.”
“Love?” I laugh bitterly. “He gave me away. Had to pay a man off to take me as his son. That’s not love.”
“No,” she agrees. “It wasn’t. That’s why he’s trying to give something back now.”
I stand abruptly, needing space, air, distance from the suffocating weight of Tomas’s posthumous expectations. “I need a minute,” I mutter, heading for the massive glass doors that lead to a deck overlooking the lake.
Outside, the air is crisp with the scent of pine and clean mountain water. The sun has begun its descent behind the peaks, painting the sky in shades of orange and gold. It’s breathtaking—this place, this land that supposedly belongs to me now.
I hear the door slide open behind me and know without turning that it’s Kori. She doesn’t speak as she comes to stand beside me at the railing, her presence a comfort I didn’t know I needed until I met her.
“It’s beautiful,” she says finally, gazing out at the landscape.
“It’s insane,” I reply. “All of it. Ella being real. The ranch. Him leaving it to me, of all people.”
“Why not you?” she asks, turning to study my profile.
“Because I’m the outsider, the black sheep. The one who didn’t grow up as a MacGallan. The one he threw away.” My hands grip the railing until my knuckles turn white. “And now he expects me to just... what? Move to Alberta? Become a rancher? Play happy families with siblings I barely know?”
“I don’t think he expects anything anymore,” Kori says gently. “He’s gone, Kane. This isn’t about his expectations. It’s about what you want.”
I turn to look at her—this woman who crashed into my life on a plane, weeks ago, and somehow became essential to my existence. “What if I don’t know what I want?”
She smiles, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from my forehead. “Then you take your time figuring it out. There’s no rush.”
The door slides open again, and Ella steps out, hesitating when she sees us. “Sorry to interrupt. I can come back—”
“It’s fine,” I say, though my heart rate picks up at the sight of her—my sister. The words still feel foreign, impossible.
She approaches cautiously, stopping at a respectful distance. “I know this is overwhelming. Believe me, I tried to talk him out of the whole treasure hunt idea. I told him to call you all, to be direct for once in his life.”
“Why didn’t you contact us after he died?” I ask. “Why let us go through all this?”