Chapter 35
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Annie
I stare at the screen long enough for it to dim in my hand.
Simple conversation.
Right.
Because people always summon accountants to private meetings through mysterious phone numbers when they want harmless small talk. Especially with everything that’s going on.
The last week has stretched the ranch too tight. Like a rope one hard pull away from snapping.
Silas barely sleeps. I know because I hear his boots outside at night sometimes, pacing the property lines with those worn leather gloves shoved into one fist like he’s trying to strangle control back into existence.
Cody’s worse.
He’s gone so deep into audits and access logs he barely remembers food exists unless Duke physically puts a plate in front of him.
The tension in him feels surgical now. Still, precise, dangerous.
And Duke…
Duke tries the hardest to make things feel normal, which just makes it more obvious how scared he is.
Nobody says the word “traitor” out loud anymore. But it lives here now anyway. In every silence, every glance, every locked door, overshadowing everything else completely.
I read the text again. Simple conversation. Bullshit. Still…
I grab my jacket. Because if Vivian Harlan wants to threaten me, I’d rather she do it to my face.
The Silver Bit smells like whiskey, old wood, and gossip.
I think the gossip might be strongest.
The lunch crowd buzzes around me as I step inside, conversations dipping for half a second before picking right back up again. I feel eyes on me.
Riley catches my eye from behind the bar, polishing a glass. “You okay?”
“Nope.”
His mouth twitches. “Private room’s in the back.”
Of course it is.
I move through the tavern, boots heavy against dark wooden floors, my pulse beating harder with every step toward the hallway.
The private dining room door is already open.
And there she is.
Vivian Harlan sits at the head of the table like she owns oxygen itself.
Elegant cream blouse, gold jewelry subtle enough to scream “expensive,” dark silver hair swept into a flawless twist that probably hasn’t moved since sunrise.
Beside her sits Tessa Grange.
Perfect posture. Perfect makeup. Perfectly stoic expression.
The sight of them together makes my stomach tighten. Predators travel in pairs sometimes, apparently.
Vivian smiles when she sees me. “Annie, thank you for coming.”
Every instinct I have tells me to leave immediately. Instead, I walk fully into the room and shut the door behind me myself.
If we’re doing this, we’re doing it properly.
“You wanted to see me.”
Vivian gestures elegantly toward the empty chair across from her. “Sit.”
Tessa offers me a small nod. “Coffee?”
“I’d rather drink bleach, but thanks.”
That earns the faintest flicker of amusement from Tessa.
Vivian doesn’t react at all.
A server appears briefly, setting down water glasses before vanishing again like someone fleeing a crime scene.
Smart.
Vivian folds her hands neatly atop the table. “You’ve caused quite a disruption at Ironwood.”
The words are casual.
The tone isn’t.
I lean back in my chair. “Pretty sure the embezzlement caused the disruption.”
Tessa’s eyes flick toward me.
Vivian just smiles. “You’re intelligent. I appreciate intelligence. It’s rare.”
Compliments from her feel like being stroked by a snake. “I’m getting that feeling a lot lately.”
“Silas says you’re talented.”
I keep my face neutral. “That’s nice of him.”
“And Cody respects your work.” More loaded ammunition wrapped in silk. “And Duke likes you very much.”
Okay, what the hell is this really about?
Vivian lifts her water glass delicately. “You’ve become… entangled.”
I force myself not to react.
“With respect,” I say evenly, “I’m not sure my personal life is your business.”
Vivian smiles again. Cold this time. “Oh, Annie. Everything involving Ironwood is my business.”
An unpleasantness crawls down my spine.
Tessa finally speaks. “The Harlan family has spent generations building stability in Colter Creek.”
I glance toward her. “By stability, do you mean control?”
Neither woman answers immediately, which feels like an answer.
Vivian sets down her glass with a soft click. “You’re temporary. You came here for contract work. A stepping stone. A financial opportunity. Nobody faults ambition.”
I stare at her, because suddenly I understand exactly what this is.
Not a meeting. A transaction.
She thinks I can be bought.
Vivian reaches into the leather portfolio beside her chair and slides an envelope across the table toward me.
Thick. Heavy. Money.
A laugh almost escapes me from pure disbelief. “You cannot be serious.”
“It’s generous,” Tessa says calmly.
I don’t touch the envelope. “I don’t want your money.”
Vivian tilts her head. “Everyone wants security.”
“Is that what you’re worried about?.”
“You would leave Ironwood quietly,” Vivian continues smoothly, as if I haven’t spoken. “No scandal or unnecessary complication. Your contract concludes early, you receive compensation, and everyone moves forward cleanly.”
Like I’m an employee being phased out of a company restructuring. Like I’m disposable.
Anger blooms hot and immediate beneath my ribs. “Wow. You really think this works, don’t you?”
Vivian’s expression doesn’t shift. “People are simpler than they pretend to be.”
“No,” I say. “You just think they are because you’re used to controlling them.”
Tessa watches me carefully now, evaluating.
Vivian folds her hands together again, posture immaculate. “You’re involved with three men whose lives are tied to one of the most visible legacies in this valley. That creates instability.”
I bark out a laugh before I can stop myself. “Pretty sure the secret money laundering ring created instability first.”
Tessa goes very still.
Vivian’s smile finally fades completely. “There are realities you don’t understand yet.”
“Then explain them.”
“Ironwood survives because the Harlan family protects it.”
“No,” I say. “Ironwood survives because the people working themselves half to death there love it.”
Her eyes narrow. “Careful.”
I feel my pulse quicken anyway. Not because I’m scared. Because now I’m angry enough not to hide it.
“You know what I think?” I say. Neither woman interrupts. “I think you’re furious the brothers are making decisions without you.”
Vivian’s expression hardens fractionally. “I think you mistake guidance for control.”
“I think,” I continue, “that you’ve spent so long treating them like assets you forgot they’re people.”
Tessa exhales slowly beside her.
Vivian looks at me for a very long moment. Then the mask slips. “You’ve become a liability.”
There it is.
The real voice.
My heartbeat thunders harder.
Vivian leans forward. “Ironwood does not belong to Silas. Or Cody. Or Duke.” Her gaze locks onto mine. “Ironwood belongs to the Harlan name.” The room suddenly feels too warm. “And names survive by removing threats.”
Okay. There it is. An actual threat now. My fear finally catches up with me then, cold and electric beneath my skin.
But underneath it, there’s a hardness. Because suddenly I’m not thinking about myself anymore, I’m thinking about the brothers.
About Duke telling me Vivian controlled their childhoods.
About Cody treating trust like it’s fragile enough to break in your hands.
About Silas carrying responsibility like punishment.
And I realize something awful. They grew up with this, with her. No wonder control feels like survival to them.
I lift my chin slowly. “Silas inherited Ironwood.”
Vivian’s expression changes in a way that makes the air leave my lungs. “How na?ve you are.”
Tessa murmurs, “Vivian—”
“No.” Vivian doesn’t look away from me. “You think inheritance equals ownership? You think paperwork creates legacy? Those boys have what they have because generations of Harlans bled for it. Protected it. Controlled it.”
Controlled.
There’s that word again.
Always that word.
“You don’t get to walk into this family and destabilize everything because three men got distracted by a pretty face and a sob story.”
The words hit hard enough to sting.
For one ugly second, I actually feel it.
The old instinct.
Shrink, apologize, disappear before people decide you’re too much trouble to keep around.
My mother perfected that feeling in me long before Vivian Harlan ever tried.
But then the feeling turns on its head. Maybe because I’m tired, because I’ve spent too long fighting for space in rooms that didn’t want me there, or maybe because I finally understand this has never been about me fitting into Ironwood.
It’s about Vivian losing control of it.
I stand slowly from the table. The chair legs scrape softly against the wood floor.
“You know what?” I say. “I did think you were the smartest person in this room when I walked in here.”
Vivian’s eyes narrow.
“But smart people adapt.” I grab my jacket from the chair back. “You’re still trying to own people like property.”
“Annie,” Tessa warns carefully.
I look directly at Vivian. “You can threaten me all you want. I’m not leaving.”
Vivian rises too, graceful and terrifying all at once. “You should be very careful which battles you choose.”
“And you should be careful assuming people still belong to you.”
Vivian looks genuinely furious.
I turn before she can answer because if I stay another minute, I might throw the water glass directly at her perfect face.
My hands shake the second I step into the hallway. Adrenaline, anger, and fear finally crash into my bloodstream all at once.
I keep walking anyway.