Chapter 8
COLE
I’ve been staring at the same blueprint for so long that the lines have started to swim in front of my eyes.
But this one—this one matters—so I can’t afford to slack off.
The Morgan project isn’t just another job.
It’s not even just the biggest bid I’ve had a chance at since Calista and Toby carved up half my damn company.
It’s survival, my pride, and it’s the first time in months I feel like I’m fighting for something that’s mine.
I drag the pencil across the page, refining the angle on the ridge-beam elevation Ella and I sketched out last night. Just as she promised me, she’s been with me every step of the way, and I’m incredibly grateful.
My office is quiet, unnaturally quiet for mid-morning, but it’s the kind of quiet that lets me think and breathe without hearing Calista’s heels in the hallway or Toby’s fake laugh echoing through the building.
This design is the first thing I’ve felt good about in a long time.
It’s clean, bold, and thoughtful. A mix of ranch tradition and modern warmth.
It’s also laden with Ella’s influence, no question.
Her ideas come fast, sharp, and intuitive.
She sees possibilities from every angle, while I see structure, and somehow, it makes sense together.
I don’t let myself think about her for long. Thinking about her reminds me of our “collisions,” which will lead to trouble I don’t have time for. So, I force my attention back to the blueprint.
“You got this,” I mutter to myself. “Just finish the damn drawings. Submit the bid. Win the job.”
The confidence sounds good out loud. Too bad it feels like a lie.
The Morgan Ranch is huge, with multiple acres of potential.
A legacy family with sky-high standards and a reputation that could make or break my deals for the rest of my life.
If I land this, other clients will follow.
If I lose… I shove the thought away. I need to focus, so I bend back over the paper—
And the door slams open behind me.
Of course it does. Everyone thinks my office is a public bathroom nowadays. For a moment, I think it’s Ella again, but things are good between us now, so she wouldn’t storm in like this.
I don’t even need to look up to know it’s them. Calista’s perfume hits first—sharp, expensive, and suffocating. Toby follows, a smug smile already in place. I take one slow, grounding breath before setting my pencil down.
“What do you want?” I ask, not bothering with politeness.
“We’re just stopping by,” Calista says lightly, leaning against the doorway like she owns it. Technically, she does own half. “Thought we’d share some news.”
“Tremendous news,” Toby adds, grin widening. “Spectacular, actually.”
My jaw tightens. “Spit it out.”
Calista pulls out a sleek folder and waves it like a trophy. “We landed the Weathersby contract.”
My stomach drops. No. No, no, no.
“That project was mine!” I boom. “I spent three months working on that proposal.”
Toby shrugs as if he didn’t just pull the rug from under me. “Well, we made them a better offer. More competitive and modern. You know how clients are nowadays—trend-chasers. They want flash.”
“That project wasn’t flash, it was structural overhaul,” I snap. “You don’t even know the first thing about—“
“Relax, Cole,” Calista interrupts, smoothing her hair. “It’s business. We outbid you. Clean and simple.”
I stand, too fast, too hard. The chair scrapes loudly against the floor, and both of them pause. Even Toby’s smirk flickers for half a second before he lifts his chin.
These two are always looking for trouble. They almost made me lose my cool in front of Ella during the land survey. If she hadn’t held me back, God knows what I would have done to them. Now they’re back, taunting me by stealing a project I poured my soul into.
“I needed that project,” I say, voice low and steady, the way it gets when I’m dangerously close to losing my temper. “You knew that.”
Calista lifts her eyebrows. “And?”
“And you stole it!”
“We submitted a better proposal,” she retorts calmly. “It’s not personal.”
But her eyes say the opposite. It’s always personal with her. How was I married to this woman for a decade? I should have seen through her much sooner and saved my daughter and me the pain.
Toby folds his arms. “Look, man, sometimes the best ideas lose, but I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”
“Or you won’t,” Calista adds sweetly. “But that won’t be our problem. Right, babe?” She grins at Toby.
“Not one bit,” he grins, leaning in to peck her lips.
Fury burns so hot in me; I feel my whole body tremble. I stare at them—two people who were once family, who claimed they cared about this company, who betrayed me so thoroughly it rattled the bones in my body.
“You’re unbelievable,” I breathe.
Calista smiles. “We’re efficient.”
Toby nods toward my desk. “By the way, good luck on whatever little project you’re working on. It looks… cute. I hope it’s not what you’re gonna propose for the Morgans, because if it is, you’re surely gonna lose. Again.”
My blood turns molten, but before I can say something I can’t take back, they slip out the door, footsteps echoing down the hall, laughter trailing behind them like poison.
When the last sound fades, the silence hits harder than the confrontation. I sit back down and exhale, staring at the blueprint. My chest aches, and no matter how hard I rub, the feeling won’t go away.
That Weathersby project was supposed to keep the company afloat through the next few months and buy me time.
It was supposed to be mine, but Calista and Toby don’t want the business to thrive if I’m the one steering it.
They want me tired, doubting, and cornered.
They want me to give up so they can claim the rest of the company cleanly.
But that is not happening, not after everything I’ve fought through to get here. This is my father’s legacy, and I am going to fight till death for it.
I grab my pencil again and start fixing measurements I’ve already fixed three times. I erase a line that was perfectly drawn just so I can redraw it cleaner, pushing the frustration out through precision. Every stroke of my pencil is a vow. I’m going to win this damn bid.
And then my phone buzzes. I brace myself—another client cancelling? A supplier raising prices? Calista gloating? But then I see the name.
Ella.
Everything inside me shifts. I clear my throat before answering, trying to sound like a man who didn’t just lose the biggest project he had lined up. “Hey.”
“Hi Cole, are you okay? You sound tense,” she notes immediately.
Her voice flows warm through the speaker, soft but sharp, sweet but serious. It hits me right in the center of my chest.
“It’s been a long morning,” I admit.
“Did you get a chance to finish the elevation designs?” she inquires.
“I’m working on them right now.”
“Good, that’s the spirit.” She pauses for a moment before continuing. “I was just calling to check in and make sure you haven’t run away yet.”
The corner of my mouth twitches. “Not yet.”
She laughs, a soft, breathy sound that does something to me I don’t have words for. “How about the bid proposal? Have you worked on the numbers yet?”
“Yes, I finalized it last night. Thanks for your help.”
“You’re welcome. I’m just glad you let me help you in the first place. Which means everything is on track?”
“Yeah.”
“Then why do you sound so down?” she asks gently.
I hesitate for a bit too long.
“Cole,” she murmurs, catching it. “Talk to me.”
I rub the bridge of my nose. “Calista and Toby just stole a job I worked my ass off for.”
She goes silent, followed by a slow inhale. “Oh,” she whispers. “Cole… I’m so sorry.”
Her sympathy threatens to crack something inside me, and I bite down hard on that emotion. “It’s fine,” I lie. “I’ll figure something out.”
“It’s not fine,” she grits out firmly. “But you’ll figure it out—you always do. And you are going to land our bid. You know this ranch better than anyone—the land, history, and heartbeat of the place. Hell, I think you know my family better than they know themselves.”
That pulls a sound out of me I wasn’t expecting—a low, rough exhale that borders on a laugh. “I don’t know about that.”
“Well, I do. You’ve been here since we were kids. You’ve helped with every major renovation on the property, hauled lumber with Zane, fixed broken fences with Jace, taught Beck how to replace load-bearing beams—“
“I did not teach Beck anything.”
She snorts softly. “Fine, you supervised while he tried not to fall off the ladder.”
I rub a hand over my face, a reluctant smile tugging at the corner of my mouth.
“You’re not allowed to give up,” she demands quietly. “Not after everything. Not after what you showed me on that blueprint.”
I swallow hard.
“That’s the best work I’ve ever seen from you,” she adds softly. “Don’t let them take this from you, too.”
Her words land deep, solid, and unshakeable. I let myself breathe for the first time since Calista and Toby walked in. “Ella…” I start.
“Yes?”
“Thank you. For all of it. For helping me with the designs, talking me through this. For… checking in.”
She’s quiet for a beat. Then—
“You’re welcome,” she whispers, her voice warm velvet.
“And good luck, Cole,” she adds. “I know you hate hearing that, but you’re going to do well. Really well.”
I nod even though she can’t see it. “I’ll do my best.”
“I know you will,” she says gently. “I’ll see you in two days for the bidding.”
“See you then.”
She hangs up before I can say anything else. I set the phone down, staring at the blank wall for a long moment, then I turn back to the blueprint. Everything looks clearer, sharper, like the lines finally make sense.
I start working again, pencil moving fast, steady, hungry. I’m driven now. I am going to win this bid, not because of spite or revenge, but because I have every reason to fight—my daughter, my father’s legacy, and because Ella Morgan believes I can.
And for the first time in a long time… I believe it too.