14. Grant
Chapter fourteen
Grant
Isit beside Vivian and force myself to breathe.
Jessie Lestor sits three rows ahead with her attorney, a sharp-eyed woman named Caroline Webb.
The preliminary hearing begins.
Webb stands.
"Your Honor, the Lestor family has maintained a reasonable expectation regarding the property commonly known as Lestor Lodge since its original purchase, with the intent for use by the Iron Peak Outlaws organization.
Since the team doesn't use it, we believe it should have been passed to the inheritor of the estate and the rest of the surrounding property—Jessie Lestor. "
Vivian's pen taps once against her notepad. Our signal. Stay calm.
Webb continues.
"We have documentation showing the property was vacant for extended periods. No maintenance records. No utility activity beyond minimal heating. No staff presence. The team's sudden claim of active use is contradicted by their own neglect."
The judge flips through documents without expression.
Webb's voice sharpens.
"Furthermore, the recent presence of Mrs. Laurie Bennett and her adult daughter at the property raises serious questions.
Mrs. Bennett, a widow in financial difficulty, was hired under unclear terms and installed at Lestor Lodge alongside her daughter.
One of the team owners, Mr. Grant Thorne, has since been publicly linked to Mrs. Bennett in what appears to be a personal relationship. "
My jaw locks.
Webb holds up a photo. Laurie and me at the arena. Her hand in mine.
"We are not suggesting impropriety, Your Honor. We are suggesting theatrics. The team is using Mrs. Bennett's presence to manufacture an image of active, residential use. They are hiding strategic staging behind the appearance of romance."
Vivian rises smoothly.
"Your Honor, Mrs. Bennett was hired through legitimate contract to prepare Lestor Lodge for inspection and future occupancy by rostered players. Her presence is temporary, documented, and entirely above board. Mr. Thorne's personal life is not the subject of this dispute."
Webb smiles.
"Then Mr. Thorne won't mind clarifying whether his relationship with Mrs. Bennett is genuine or simply convenient timing."
The judge looks at me.
I meet his gaze and keep my voice level.
"My relationship with Mrs. Bennett is private."
The judge sets down his pen.
"Ms. Webb, unless you have evidence of coercion or fraud, Mr. Thorne's personal relationships are not grounds for challenging property rights.
However—" He looks at Vivian. "The court does expect transparency regarding occupancy claims. If the team is arguing active residential use, they need to demonstrate it beyond temporary contract labor. "
"We will, Your Honor," Vivian says.
"Good. Next hearing is scheduled for four weeks. Both parties will submit updated documentation. Mrs. Bennett's employment contract and housing arrangement should be included for review."
The gavel drops.
Webb gathers her files with a satisfied expression.
I walk out of the courtroom without looking at Jessie.
***
Vivian catches me in the parking garage.
"Grant—"
"Do not."
"You need to hear this."
I stop.
She crosses her arms.
"Webb is building a narrative to make Laurie look exploited and you look calculating. Right now, the engagement story is the only thing preventing that from landing harder."
"So Laurie's dignity gets shredded either way."
"Because you made her vulnerable. You hired her. You housed her. You were out with her in public. And now Jessie's team gets to weaponize all of it."
I look away.
Vivian's voice softens slightly.
"Grant. I know you care about her. But caring is not enough."
***
I sit in my car for twenty minutes before I trust myself to drive.
Webb's voice loops through my head.
I pull out my phone and stare at Laurie's last text.
Found the original property deed in the old files. Thought you'd want to see it.
Simple. Warm. The kind of message that made me smile this morning before the hearing turned her into evidence.
Every personal move now has legal consequences.
I wanted to protect her. Instead, I made her a target.
I wanted to give her stability. Instead, I made her appear desperate.
I wanted—
No.
I need to stop wanting.
Wanting is what caused this. Wanting made me sloppy. Made me visible. Made me forget that emotion creates risk and control prevents disaster.
I text Dean Mercer.
Need full occupancy timeline for Lestor Lodge. Start to present. Include utility records, maintenance logs, contract labor, everything.
Then I text Vivian.
Prepare revised terms for Mrs. Bennett's contract. Clear end date. Documented housing arrangement. No ambiguity.
She responds immediately.
Grant. Talk to her first.
I don't answer.
The smart move—the strategic move—is to create distance. Clarify the professional relationship. Protect Laurie from further legal exposure by removing the personal angle entirely.
Webb wants to prove this is theatre? Fine. I'll give her clean documentation and zero ammunition.
And I'll do it before Laurie gets dragged any deeper into a fight she never asked for.
I start the engine.
My chest feels tight.
This is the right decision. The only decision that protects her long-term.
Vivian's words surface again.
Caring is not enough.
But relationships are luxuries. Built on hope instead of strategy.
And hope is what gets people hurt.