“Mr. Valenti,” she said, her voice steadier than I’d expected. “I’m Heather Wesley.”
Dante took her hand gently, almost formally. “Miss Wesley. Please, call me Dante.” He smiled at her, warm and disarming. “I appreciate you agreeing to this meeting. I know these circumstances aren’t ideal for anyone.”
That was one way to put it.
We all sat down around the table, Mom pouring coffee that no one seemed interested in drinking. Dante pulled a folder from inside his jacket and set it on the table between us. The gesture felt ominous, like watching a judge lay out a sentence.
“I’ll be direct,” Dante said, looking at each of us in turn. “My family loaned you four million dollars three years ago when no bank would touch you. The terms were clear. Full repayment by the end of this month, or the ranch becomes our property.” He paused, his expression softening slightly. “My fatherunderstands that’s not feasible given current market conditions. Which is why he’s offering an alternative arrangement.”
“Marriage,” Heather said flatly.
Dante’s eyes flicked to her, and for a moment I saw something like surprise cross his face. Maybe he hadn’t expected her to be so direct.
“Yes,” he said. “Marriage. To a member of the Valenti family. To me. That union would legally tie your ranch to our interests while allowing your family to maintain residence and continue operations.” He opened the folder, revealing documents covered in dense legal text. “The arrangement would be mutually beneficial. Your family keeps the ranch, the debt is forgiven, and we establish a legitimate business presence in Montana.”
“And Heather becomes property,” I said, unable to keep the edge out of my voice. “Just like the ranch.”
Those dark eyes snapped to me, and I saw a flash of something dangerous there. But when he spoke, his voice remained calm. “Your sister would be treated with respect. She’d have access to family resources, financial security, and?—”
“A husband she doesn’t love,” I interrupted. “In a marriage she doesn’t want. To a family of criminals.”
“Nick,” Dad warned, but I ignored him.
Dante leaned back in his chair, studying me with an intensity that made my skin prickle. “You’re right,” he said finally. “It’s not a love match. But most marriages throughout history haven’t been. They’ve been alliances. Arrangements. This is no different.”
“The hell it isn’t.”
“Nick, please,” Mom said quietly, her voice trembling.
I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to stay seated when every instinct screamed at me to throw this bastard off our property. But what good would that do? We’d still owe the money. They’d still take the ranch. At least Heather would be free. But whendealing with people like these thugs… who knew if they could be trusted to keep their word.
Dante turned his attention back to Heather. “I understand this is overwhelming. But I want you to know that this doesn’t have to be... unpleasant. The marriage would be legal and binding, yes, but we could make the terms comfortable for you. We would still live on the ranch in separate housing. You could visit your family whenever you wanted to. I don’t plan on keeping you prisoner.”
“How generous,” I muttered.
He ignored me. “My father is prepared to be flexible on certain details. The wedding could be small, private. We could delay the ceremony a few weeks if you need time to adjust to the idea.”
Heather was quiet for a long moment, her hands folded in her lap. When she finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. “And if I refuse?”
“Then the ranch and all its assets transfer to Valenti ownership at the end of the month. Your family would have thirty days to vacate the property.”
The words hung in the air like a death sentence.
I watched my sister’s face, saw the moment she made her decision. The same stubborn set to her jaw I’d seen last night. She was going to do it. She was going to sacrifice herself for this place, for our family, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to stop her.
“Here is the contract,” Dante said, sliding an official looking document to the center of the table. “Since Mr. Wesley was the one to sign the loan, he’ll need to accept or deny this contract. And, should you choose the marriage route, I have a prenup that would need to be signed as well.” He slid that onto the table too. “Do you need some time to think it over?”
“We should take a couple of hours to—” my father began.
“No,” Heather interrupted. “We’ll take the marriage route. I’ll sign the prenup now.”
“No.”
The word came out of my mouth before I’d even realized I was speaking. Everyone turned to stare at me.
“Nick—” Heather started.
“No,” I said again, louder this time. I stood up from the table, my chair scraping against the floor. My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears. “This is bullshit. You can’t just... You’re not doing this, Heather.”
