Page 89 of Branded

Nathaniel appears in my doorway, looking exhausted. He’s been coordinating security and managing the investigation into the leak since Dad was shot.

“You’re really flying to Montana today?” he asks, pouring his own coffee.

“Yeah. Her father wants to meet me.”

“Smart man. I’d want to meet the guy who married my daughter overnight, too.” Nathaniel leans against the counter. “Are you ready for that conversation? Because ranchers like Warren Briggs don’t fuck around. He’s going to ask hard questions.”

“I know.”

“And you’re going to answer them honestly?”

I look at my brother. “What do you think I should tell him? That I bought his daughter at an auction my family has been running since the 1800s? That she’s legally bound to me for two years? That I threatened her when she tried to have any autonomy?”

“Jesus, Sebastian.” Nathaniel sets down his coffee. “When you put it like that⁠—”

“That’s what it is. No matter how I try to dress it up.” I move to the window, looking out at the ranch. “I’m going to Montana to lie to her family. Tell them we fell in love, that it was a whirlwind romance, that I’m treating her well. And they’re going to want to believe it because the alternative is too ugly.”

“Are you treating her well?”

“No, I haven’t been.” I turn back. “How’s Dad?”

“Recovering. Still pissed about Marshall, and still thinks Lennox might be the leak, though Caroline’s been showing him evidence that she’s not.” Nathaniel pauses. “We found something. About the raid.”

My attention sharpens. “What?”

“One of the newer ranch hands—hired him last spring—his phone records show a call to a number registered to Marshall’s operation the night before the raid. Thirty-second call, right after the planning meeting.”

“Adam.” I run through faces, placing him. Early twenties, natural horseman, quiet. “You sure?”

“Caroline pulled the records herself. Called the number from a burner. Someone at Marshall’s ranch answered.” Nathaniel’s jaw is tight. “We’ve got our leak.”

“Where is he now?”

“Barn. Doesn’t know we know. We wanted to wait until you were back before confronting him since you’re the one who’s been dealing with this.”

“I’ll be back in a few days.” I grab my phone. “Right now, I need to prepare to meet my father-in-law and convince him I’m not an asshole.”

“I’d say good luck, but we both know it’s not possible for you not to be.” He slaps me on the shoulder and walks out.

I spend the morning handling ranch business and occupancy reports for the Monterey resort. Staffing issues at the San Diego property. Permit problems with the expansion project. The work that never stops, even when my personal life is imploding.

By noon, I cleared my schedule and packed a bag: nothing fancy: jeans, button-downs, boots. I need Warren Briggs to see me as someone who understands his world, not some rich kid playing at ranching.

Caroline catches me before I leave for the airstrip.

“You’re really doing this?” She leans against my truck. “Flying to Montana to meet the family of the woman you bought at an auction?”

“You’re as bad as Nathaniel.” I shake my head. “Yeah, I’m doing this.”

“Good luck. You’re going to need it.” She leaves, and I climb into the truck, heading for the airstrip where the jet waits.

The flight is three hours of paperwork and phone calls and trying not to think about what awaits me. But by the time we start our descent, my mind is racing through scenarios.

Warren Briggs asking how we met. Me lying through my teeth. Lennox’s siblings watching every interaction, looking for cracks in the story. The moment someone asks a question I can’t answer without revealing the truth.

We land just after five. I text Lennox for the ranch location, and she sends it along with:

Lennox