Darius
He scooped up the device and swiped the screen, bringing the phone to his ear. "Hello, that was quick, Clyde."
"There’s an active pool renovation project underway at Hearts Hotel," Clyde explained, the steady tap of a keyboard audible in the background. "Two days ago, the crew uncovered unlogged physical anomalies beneath the old concrete deck. Traces of a Calusa habitation layer. My contact within the state bureau confirms that nothing has been formally documented or submitted to the database yet. It’s an unverified find, but Dr. Caldwell’s presence on the island means they are preparing the initial site assessment protocols as we speak. "
"I’m already ahead of you," Clyde replied smoothly. "I'll have the full background dossiers on your secure server by tomorrow evening. I've just sent the preliminary data regarding the hotel pool findings to your private, encrypted email. Check your inbox."
He pulled the chair out, sinking into the leather as he opened the cover. His eyes skimmed the familiar first page, tracing the sweeping engineering lines of the grand luxury resort and mega-mall his father had mapped out before his life was cut short.
Darius let out a long, heavy sigh, his shoulders sagging under the immense weight of a decade's worth of misplaced grief.
"I’m sorry, Mom and Dad," he muttered into the empty room, his voice dropping into a rough whisper. "But it looks like the legacy project is going to be delayed a little longer due to a historical hiccup."
He turned the page, but his mind refused to lock onto the data.
He sighed again, leaning back against the leather headrest as a sudden, sharp wave of guilt hit him square in the chest. He hated to admit it, even to himself in the absolute privacy of his office, because it felt like a profound failure to his parents' memory.
But something deep down inside him was actually rooting for Hearts Hotel.
A part of him wanted Linda and her stubborn uncle to win this initial round.
If the historical freeze went through, it wouldn't be his failure.
It wouldn't mean he had let his father down; it would simply be a casualty of hard-fought, unpredictable business logistics.
Darius forced his gaze back down to the ledger, trying to shake the uncharacteristic sentimentality from his brain.
As he did, his eyes landed on a faded, handwritten scribble in the outer margin of a land survey blueprint.
It was his father’s handwriting, hasty and bold: Sweet Blossom Bay Campground.
Darius frowned, slid his glasses onto his nose, and pulled the map closer.
He traced the boundary lines, his eyes widening slightly as the actual scale of the property registered in his mind.
The campground parcel was massive. It spanned the entire interior block, stretching far beyond the perimeter of his current house all the way down to the western boundary of the Hearts Hotel estate.
Furthermore, the cul-de-sac edge of that abandoned campground touched the exact eastern side of his private property line.
A sharp, predatory spark of corporate ambition instantly replaced the guilt.
Darius leaned forward, his analytical mind spinning a brand-new web of logistics.
He had originally intended to look into that specific vacant campground anyway, operating under the assumption that acquiring it would allow the Wayne Group to expand their luxury resort footprint even further once the hotel was secured.
He snatched up his phone and dialed his executive assistant's direct office line back in Miami.
"Darius here," he said the moment she picked up. "I need an immediate, high-priority property title search executed on the Sweet Blossom Bay Campground parcel. The one directly across the road from the hotel."
"Of course, Mr. Wayne," she replied, the sound of her notepad rustling. "What specific details are you looking for?"
"I want to know exactly who owns that land," Darius commanded.
"The Wayne Group was outbid on that parcel a few years back during a quiet private sell-off, and the current deed-holder hasn't touched the property since the purchase went through.
Find out who handles the estate, contact their broker immediately, and ask whether they are willing to entertain a premium off-market buyout offer.
I want that block, and I want it yesterday. "
"I'll have the ownership details and the broker contact information on your desk within the hour," she promised.
"Thank you." Darius ended the call.
A slow, calculated smile spread across his face as he stood up and walked back toward the sweeping view of the bay.
Maybe there was an alternative path forward after all.
If he could aggressively secure the campground block, he wouldn't need to waste time or capital fighting a protracted, exhausting legal battle over a protected Calusa site at the hotel pool. He could use the massive campground parcel as the primary foundation to get the Wayne Group’s luxury resort started immediately.
It was a perfect, elegant workaround. They would build their high-end complex right in the Hearts Hotel’s backyard, and once their modern, state-of-the-art resort was in full operational swing, the weathered, historic Hearts Hotel wouldn't last two seasons against the competition anyway.
They would be completely crushed by the market share, starved of tourist capital, and forced into a standard, clean foreclosure.
Darius watched the golden light of the afternoon begin to stretch across the water, his confidence fully restored. He had been playing this corporate acquisition game for a very long time. What was a little longer to wait for the hotel to fall into his hands naturally?
A sudden, violent crash shattered the silence of the room.
The heavy oak office doors didn't just open—they slammed against the interior drywall with a force that made the glass windows rattle in their tracks. Darius spun around, his hand instinctively gripping the edge of his desk as his heart leaped into his throat.
Isabel stood framing the threshold, her face flushed crimson with raw, unbridled fury, her chest heaving as her breathing rattled in the quiet of the office.
Her fingers were clenched into tight, white-knuckled fists at her sides, and her eyes burned with a dangerous, unblinking intensity that Darius had never seen in his sister before.
Before he could even process her sudden arrival or demand an explanation, she took a single, aggressive step into the center of the room, her voice slicing through the air like a razor blade.
"How dare you, Darius?" Isabel spat, her entire frame trembling with rage as she locked her gaze onto his face. "How dare you and Baxter use our parents' memory to destroy this beautiful little town!”