“It also looks like an Inspector Williams has been receiving payments since the purchase of the land,” Rosalia says, tapping a spreadsheet showing the timeline. "Smaller amounts in cash, but the larger payouts were disguised as consulting fees through a contractor account. Your father kept it legitimate-looking enough to avoid immediate scrutiny, but Madison's evidence shows the pattern.”
My brother’s wife is sharp as hell. Former librarian turned bookstore owner, she has an eye for detail and pattern recognition that’s astounding. I’d underestimated her when she was a tenant for one of Blackstone’s rentals.
I'd underestimated her in other ways too, treating her like a pawn I could move around Sebastian.
"Rosalia." I wait until she looks up. "What I did to you.” I don’t need to say when or what I did. We both can see the elephant sitting on the table between us. “It was—"
"Wrong?" she supplies. "Manipulative? Cruel?"
All of the above. "Yes."
She sets down her pen. "Why are you bringing this up now?"
"Because I never apologized." The words are rusty. Unused. "And you deserve one."
Sebastian's watching us, tension in every line of his body.
Rosalia's expression doesn't soften, but she nods once. "Apology noted." Then she returns to the documents, dismissing me.
It's not forgiveness. But it's acknowledgment. And that’s more than I deserve.
Ivy straightens in her chair, her posture shifting from observer to strategist. “We need to handle this before anyone outside this room connects the dots,” she says, her fingers moving rapidly across the regulatory documents I’d printed out. She circles three sections with a red pen. “Thankfully, no one’s noticed the contamination yet, but that’s luck, not design. One routine well test from any of these properties and the whole ‘Kentucky's Greenest Distillery’ campaign implodes.” She taps the award certificate we received last month. The irony isn’t lost on any of us.
How could my father have been so stupid? So arrogant? He’s always seen the land as his birthright to use as he sees fit. But, he had to know his house of cards would collapse sooner or later.
Sebastian runs a hand roughly down his face. “I’ve built our entire brand around Kentucky heritage, family legacy, and environmental stewardship. This will destroy all our goodwill.”
Lillianna catches his gaze from across the table. “You could take the brunt of it, you know. Spin it as discovering the contamination yourself during an internal audit. Be proactive about the cleanup.”
“Take the hit on our stock in the short term to preserve the long-term brand integrity,” I finish her thought. “It’s not a bad strategy.”
"It won't work," Sebastian says, meeting my eyes. "Because I’ve hired a crew. On Monday, they’ll begin to install the containment barriers and monitoring wells."
"The hell you will,” I growl.
"We've already sat on this for two weeks, Thorne. The new tests came back. It’s spreading. Slowly, but it is. I'm not letting it get worse while we debate legal strategy."
"You do that, and we can't claim we just discovered it. This timeline exposes everything!”
"I know." No hesitation, no waver in my brother. "But I'm not going to risk poisoning my neighbors for better optics."
I rub my temple where a headache's forming. Sebastian's doing the right thing. I know that. But the right thing isn't the right move.
We stare at each other. The set of his jaw tells me everything. He's made up his mind, and nothing I say will change it. When he’s drawn that moral line, he doesn't cross it. It's admirable.
And it's probably going to cost us.
“This crew you picked out.” I set down my glass carefully, fighting the urge to throw it. “Have them all sign NDAs—comprehensive ones. They can't talk about what they find, when we hired them, any of it. Standard confidentiality for proprietary distillery operations."
"Of course. Ivy's already drafted them," Sebastian says.
Ivy nods. “And we’ll file permits for drainage improvements and environmental upgrades, which is exactly what the crew is doing. The paperwork provides legitimate cover and audit protection." She taps her pen on the papers. "But I need to be clear. This doesn't solve your fundamental problem. Your father bought contaminated land four years ago, on the cheap. If anyone investigates the purchase, that timeline exposes everything. What this strategy does is separate you all from him. If the contamination is discovered, we have documentation showing Sebastian was already remediating when it came to light, not that you've been hiding it for years."
Sebastian shifts in his chair. "Are we required to report this to the EPA?"
Ivy straightens, her pen pausing mid-notation. "That depends on the contamination levels and how they're classified under federal and state law. I need to review the test results against CERCLA thresholds and Kentucky environmental regulations." She meets his eyes. "If we're legally required to report and don't, that's another crime on top of your father's. If the levels are below mandatory reporting thresholds..." She pauses. "Then remediation without disclosure is legally defensible. Risky, but defensible."
"How risky?" I ask.
