Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Harper
Two men are tied to chairs in the center of the floor, back to back, wrists bound to the armrests. Their faces are roughed up. One has a split lip. The other has a swelling eye that's going to be shut by morning. My guess is that they won’t see tomorrow morning.
Jett is leaning against a stall door in the corner, tossing a knife in the air and catching it. Over and over. He doesn't look up when we walk in. Just keeps tossing. He’s so hard to figure out.
Colten closes the barn door behind us. It makes both men flinch.
I don't.
Ace pulls a hay bale to the side and nods for me to sit. I don't. I stay standing. Folder in my hands. He raises an eyebrow but doesn't argue.
I look at the two men. They look at me. Confusion registers. They weren't expecting a woman. They definitely weren't expecting a woman in a blue dress and cowboy boots holding a folder like she's about to conduct a job interview.
"This is Harper," Ace says, pulling up a chair and sitting on it backward, arms resting on the back. He doesn’t have a shirt on. His skin glistens from the sweat from his workout. "She's going to ask you some questions. I'd answer them if I were you."
"And if we don't?" The one with the split lip asks.
Colten steps forward. Cracks the whip against his ribs, and he screams out.
"Then I take over," Colten says. He takes a drag of his cigarette and exhales slowly. "And I'm less patient than she is. And far more fucking dangerous. I got animals to look after that deserve my time, not you assholes."
I open the folder. Spread the documents on a hay bale beside me. The transfer papers. The purchase agreement. The land survey from a company that doesn't exist.
"Aegean Holdings LLC," I say. "Registered in Nevada six weeks ago. Purchased Ranch 42 three weeks later for $21.2 million, roughly half what the land is worth." I look up. "Who set up the company?"
Nothing. They just stare at me blankly.
"I'll rephrase. Who's funding Aegean Holdings?"
The one with the swollen eye glances at his partner.
Ace shifts in his chair. "She asked you a question," he grunts.
Silence.
I take a step closer. "Here's what I think.
I think Aegean Holdings is a shell. I think it was created to make a purchase look legitimate on paper.
I think the survey company attached to this sale, this Pinnacle Land Services, doesn't exist either.
There's no registration. No website. No record of them operating anywhere in Arizona. "
I hold up the land survey.
"Someone forged this. And someone filed it with the county office knowing it would pass a surface check and fall apart under scrutiny." I look between them. "Which means either the Greeks bought Ranch 42 through the most incompetent legal structure I've ever seen, or they didn't buy it at all."
The one with the split lip swallows.
"So which is it?" I ask. "Did your people buy that ranch? Or is Carson still the owner, and this whole thing is theater?"
"We don't know about paperwork," he says. "We are told to go do a job. We go."
"You're told to go to a ranch in Arizona and guard a property your organization may or may not actually own, and you don't ask questions? After the shitshow that happened recently with Hunter, why are you still here? I think it’s clear you aren’t gonna win a war with the Sterlings."
He glances at Ace, then at Colten.
"We don't ask questions. This war ain’t about the Sterlings. But if you keep doing shit like this, it will become your problem again."
Jett laughs behind them. “Ain’t the Sterling’s problem? You’re creating an army next to their land. You tried to kill our leader. You had his son and his wife kidnapped. The war never ended, cunt. Cowboys don’t just give up. You’ve entered into a lifelong war.”
My eyes go wide. The realization settling over me. This isn’t just Gianna’s war. This was going to be a Sterling problem, always. And I’m right in the middle of it.
I glance at Ace. He's watching me. Not the men… me. And the look on his face is something I haven't seen before. Heat and pride and something darker underneath, a hunger that has nothing to do with the barn and everything to do with what I'm doing in it. He's turned on.
A shiver runs through me as I turn back to the men.
"What does Graves mean?" I ask. It’s a name that pops up when I search into the two companies. Different first names. But Graves is the word that stuck out to me. Might be nothing. Could be everything.
Both of them tense. They say nothing. So I up the threat.
"I also know that someone in your organization killed Max Milano in Los Angeles three weeks ago. And I know the Milanos want the name of the man who pulled the trigger. They believe he's hiding here. In New Falls. And if Gianna doesn’t get him, she’s going to take you all down. Ranch and all."
The younger-looking one’s face drains of color.
"So you can either tell me who or what this Graves reference is and where the shooter is hiding, or I can leave this barn and make a phone call to a woman in LA who will send a very different kind of investigator. One who won't bother with questions."
"Graves isn’t a what. It’s a who." The man who’s gone gray says quietly. "His name is Thomas Graves. He was military. Special forces. He works for Nicos Kourakos directly. A fixer of sorts. He was brought on after we had to leave LA. He’s fucking up everything for us."
I arch my brow. Interesting. Even their own men aren’t happy with this. Probably why they’re talking.
I pull out my phone and type the name. I’ve never heard of this guy. But Gianna is going to want to know, and so is Hunter.
"And the shooter? The one who killed the Milano brother? Where is he?"
I need this because that is what Gianna wants. That is what keeps her happy and me out of any kind of crossfire.
He shakes his head. "Graves. He’s the one who did it. All I know is we’re here to train the new guys before we go back to LA.”
"How many men total are on the property right now?" I ask.
"It changes. twenty, probably."
I stand, closing the folder. "Thank you," I say. And I mean it.
I step back. Ace is on his feet, watching me with that jaw clenched and those eyes burning, and I have to look away before I do something inappropriate in front of his brother.
"One more thing," Ace says, stepping forward. The casual posture is gone. He's standing at full height, shoulders squared, and looking so fucking fine I have to squeeze my thighs together.
"Where's Carson? The man who owned that ranch. Where is he now?"
The one with the swollen eye answers this time. "Gone. Left two weeks ago. Graves paid him. Told him to take his family and disappear."
"Disappear where?"
"I don't know. He left in the night. Took his truck. That's all I know."
Ace looks at Colten. Something passes between them.
"We need to find Carson," Ace says.
Colten nods.
Ace turns to me. His hand finds the small of my back, and he steers me toward the barn door.
"We're done, baby. Let's go."
"But they might know more about—"
"You got what you needed. Colten and Jett will handle the rest."
The way he says it leaves no room for interpretation. I look back over my shoulder. Jett has stopped tossing the knife. He's holding it now, turning it slowly in his hand, and for the first time since I met him, there's nothing funny about Jett Lawson.
"Harper." Ace's voice is deadly. "Come with me."
I let him lead me out. The barn door closes behind us. The Arizona sun hits my face, and I blink against the brightness. We walk in silence for a few steps. His hand is still on my back. His jaw is still tight.
"You okay?" I ask.
"Yeah. You?"
"I'm fine. Ace, I could have stayed—"
"No." He stops dead and turns to face me. "You got names. You got information. That's your job, and you're fucking incredible at it. But what happens next in that barn isn't for you. Because if something goes sideways and there's ever an investigation, you were never in that barn. Understand?"
He's not being protective out of weakness. He's being strategic. Keeping my hands clean while his get dirty. The journalist stays untouchable. The cowboys do what cowboys do.
"I understand," I say.
He cups my face and kisses me.
"You were incredible in there, sweetheart."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Watching you tear apart their cover story with a folder and a pair of cowboy boots?" He grins. "Hottest thing I've ever seen. And you got them to talk, no real torturing required. I have usually removed a few limbs to get to that point."
"Hotter than last night?"
"Don't push it."
I laugh, and he pulls me against his chest. I rest my cheek against his heart. Behind us, I hear nothing.
I've got a name. Thomas Graves. Military. Special forces. Running a Greek operation out of a ranch that was never legally sold. The man who killed Gianna’s brother. A killer that Gianna is prepared to explode everything over.
I've got a shell company that's made of paper and nothing.
I've got a missing rancher who took cash and vanished.
And I've got a phone call to make to Gianna Milano that's going to change the shape of this war. But I’m not relaying anything until Ace or Hunter tells me to. I’m on their side.
Ace takes my hand, and we walk back toward the house in the sun. His thumb traces circles on my palm. The mountains glow gold on the horizon.
"Saturday," he says. "You and me. The rodeo. And after that—"
"After that?"
He grins, tipping his hat.
"I've got plans for you, Goldie."
"Should I be scared?"
"Terrified."
I squeeze his hand. "Can't wait. Now, I need to speak to Hunter. Work out what we’re telling Gianna. Right?”
He grins. “You’re such a good fuckin’ girl.”