I tuck the folder under my arm and walk out into the sun. The heat hits me after the air conditioning, and I stand on the steps for a moment, squinting against the glare.
I flip open the folder and start scanning.
Aegean Holdings LLC. Registered in Nevada. Filed six weeks ago, the company itself is barely a month older than the sale. That's a shell company. Has to be. You don't form an LLC in Nevada and buy a ranch in Arizona three weeks later unless you're hiding who's really writing the checks.
The purchase price is listed at $21.2 million. For a ranch that size, in that condition, with that land? It's low. Way too low. Carson's property is rough, but the acreage alone is worth double that. Either Carson got desperate, or someone made him an offer that came with the kind of pressure you don't say no to.
The signatures are there. Carson's. A representative for Aegean Holdings, a name I don't recognize.
But something feels off. But to Hunter? This might be gold if he can decode it. And then, something for me to give Gianna.
I flip to the land survey. It's dated two weeks before the sale, which tracks. Except that the survey company listed is Pinnacle Land Services. I grew up here, so I know every surveyor, every assessor, every company that's ever stuck a stake in the dirt within fifty miles of New Falls.
I pull out my phone and search for the name. Nothing. No website. No reviews. No business registration in Arizona.
A surveyor that doesn't exist, attached to a shell company that's barely a month old, buying a ranch at half its value.
This doesn't feel like a sale. It feels like a stage set. Everything in the right place, all the right paperwork, filed and stamped and official. Someone wanted this to look legitimate. They did a decent job. But decent isn't good enough when the person looking is a criminal journalist who was trained to find the cracks in stories people don't want told.
I close the folder and head for my car.
I need to talk to Hunter. Because either the Greeks bought Ranch 42 through the most suspicious shell company in Nevada history, or they didn't buy it at all.
And if they didn't buy it, if Carson still owns that land and this whole sale is a front, then the question isn't what the Greeks are doing at Ranch 42.
It's what Carson is doing with the Greeks.
And that changes everything. Because this might give Hunter their weak spot.
But that also might open the doors for Gianna. And the last thing the Sterlings need is the Milano family making a move in New Falls.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Ace
Song- No Good, KALEO
"Come on, you've got ten more in ya," Jett calls out from the ground.
I drop my body weight, letting out a huff. Every muscle in my arms is screaming. My shoulders are on fire. Sweat is rolling down my back and pooling at the waistband of my shorts.
"I don't see you doing pull-ups, Jett. In fact, I don't see you doing fuck all."
I rest my hands on my knees, shaking out the tiredness.
"One more set, Ace." He holds up his phone. Camera rolling as per usual.
"I swear to God, Jett. The next session is gonna be me and you in the bull pen fighting."
He laughs. He'd be a tough son of a bitch to knock out. Don't mean I won't try.
I rip off my T-shirt and toss it on the bench.
"That's the spirit, Ace. Shirt off, sweaty abs. They're gonna fucking eat this shit up."
I roll my eyes. I don't give a fuck what people say about me on the internet. I just care what one woman thinks about my body.
Reluctantly, I stand under the bar, look up, jump, and start the set. Heaving my body over the bar, rep after rep, trying not to pass out. My arms are shaking by the eighth rep. My lungs are burning by the ninth.
