I glance at him, a slow warning in my stare.
He laughs. “So you did. Jesus, Tristan. Tell me you didn’t pull another one of your intimidation tours.”
“Just checking the drainage,” I lie. “Last thing we need is runoff hitting the mash tanks again.”
He leans back, balancing the chair on two legs. “You know she’s not leaving, right? Word’s already spreading that she filed for new permits. Weddings, tastings, all that tourist crap.”
“She doesn’t have approval yet.”
“Doesn’t mean she won’t get it. She’s got that look.”
I raise an eyebrow. “What look?”
“The kind that says she’d burn the place down before letting you win.” Calder grins, but it fades when I don’t return it.
“You could’ve just talked to her, you know. You didn’t have to go stomping around like—” He stops himself, smirking again. “Like Dad used to.”
The words hit harder than they should.
“I’m nothing like him,” I say, too evenly.
“Sure.” Calder sips his coffee, watching me over the rim. “Then maybe stop acting like you are.”
I stand, crossing to the window. Down in the valley, fog still clings to the river, softening the sharp lines of the distillery. Beyond it, the road snakes upward, vanishing into the trees where the Voss Estate sits hidden.
A shape moves there—maybe just a maintenance truck, maybe her.
“She’s reopening the vineyard,” I say finally. “She’s going to put tourists on that ridge again.”
Calder shrugs. “So? Let her. You’ll still own half the damn valley.”
“It’s not about ownership.”
“Then what is it?”
I don’t answer.
He laughs under his breath. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.” Calder pushes up from the chair and heads for the door. “Try not to scare the new neighbor again, Tristan. Some of us like having customers who don’t think we run a horror show.”
When he’s gone, the silence closes in again.
I turn back to the window. The fog’s lifting. The Voss Estate is just visible now—roof glinting wet and silver against the morning light.
My pulse stirs, uninvited.
Last night should’ve ended it. A scare. A warning. Something simple.
But instead, I can still see her—barefoot in the rain, flashlight shaking in her hand, refusing to back down.
The valley may belong to me.
But I have a feeling she’s about to make me bleed for it.
CHAPTER 3
Raine
I inhale deeplyas I wander the grounds. The vineyard smells like wet earth and electricity.
