I turned to look at Sylvie, taking in the way the firelight played across her face. She was looking at me like she truly believed in me.
“Now I can’t imagine leaving all this behind.”
Silence followed. I could hear the crackling of the fire and the soft murmur of conversation from the other guests, but from the Northwood family table, nothing.
Then Harold cleared his throat. “What kind of numbers are we talking about? This place needs a lot of polish. It won’t be cheap.”
Before I could answer, Brom exploded. “Are you seriously considering this?” he demanded, turning to his father. “This is the same guy who tried to screw us over two weeks ago! The same guy who lied to Sylvie and made us all look like fools!”
“He wasn’t honest with Sylvie, which is unacceptable,” Harold said firmly. “But he didn’t try to screw us over. He gave us the paperwork to read through. All the terms were in there in black and white.”
“He could have been straight with us from the beginning,” Brom said.
“He also just strung lights through our entire tree farm in the middle of winter,” Stacy pointed out quietly. “That had to take hours. In the freezing cold.”
“So what?” Brom shot back. “A grand gesture doesn’t erase what he did.”
“People can change,” Sylvie said. “People can learn from their mistakes and choose to do better.”
“Can they?” Brom’s voice was rising now. “Or is this just another way for the Bancrofts to get what they want? Maybe this time instead of buying us out, they’ll just buy their way in!”
Harold held up a hand. “What would your father think about this investment?” he asked me, his eyes sharp and assessing.
I took a breath, knowing honesty was the only way forward with the Northwoods. “He’ll probably disown me, cut me off from my trust fund.”
That sucked the oxygen out of the room. Brom’s anger seemed to falter slightly, replaced by confusion.
“He doesn’t know about this,” I continued. “I tried to sell him on a different version, forgetting about the oil reserves and focusing on making the lodge a successful getaway destination. It would have been a corporate partnership that would preserve what you’ve built while still generating profit for Bancroft Industries. He didn’t say no outright, but he made it clear that sentiment doesn’t drive business decisions. To him, there’s more money in oil in the short term, so that’s the route he thinks is best. But who cares what he thinks? I’m here with the offer now, totally independently.”
“So we wouldn’t be partnering up with your family’s company?” Harold asked.
“No, you’d be partnering up with me.” I looked around the table, meeting each of their gazes. “This isn’t a purely business decision. This is me choosing to invest in something I believe in.”
“And what about us?” Brom demanded. “What happens when you get bored of playing small-town businessman? What happens when daddy cuts off your trust fund, and you need quick cash?”
“Brom,” Sylvie warned. “Don’t be rude.”
“No, it’s okay,” I said. “He’s right to ask. You all are.”
I leaned forward, putting everything I had into making them understand. “I’ve spent my entire adult life trying to earn my father’s approval, trying to be the kind of son he wanted. It cost me relationships, cost me happiness, nearly cost me the chance to be with the most incredible woman I’ve ever met.”
I squeezed Sylvie’s hand under the table.
“I’m done living my life for someone else’s expectations. I want to build something here. With Sylvie, with all of you, if you’ll have me. I want to wake up every morning and know that the work I’m doing matters, that I’m helping preserve something beautiful instead of destroying it for profit.”
The room erupted into passionate arguments. Brom was adamant that this was a mistake and I couldn’t be trusted. He was trying to convince them they’d be fools to get involved with a Bancroft in any capacity. Stacy was more cautiously optimistic, pointing out that they needed help whether they wanted to admit it or not. Harold was asking practical questions about timelines and legal structures and return on investment.
Through it all, Sylvie sat beside me, her hand steady in mine, watching her family debate the future of everything they’d built together.
She gave me a smile that was both reassuring and full of promise.
Whatever they decided, whatever happened next, we were in this together.
CHAPTER 57
SYLVIE
Iwatched my family argue about Kent’s proposal, their voices overlapping in a chaotic symphony of concern and possibility. My father kept circling back to the financial details while Brom remained convinced this was all some elaborate trap. I could feel Kent’s tension radiating beside me. He felt attacked. I didn’t blame him. It was four against two. Because I was definitely on his side.
