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“Well, where the hell did it go? Down the fucking drain?”

“Lana,” Sophie pleaded. “Don’t swear.”

Alana huffed. She felt like she could breathe fire. “Sorry, Bean. I’m just confused.”

“We both are,” Sophie reasoned. “Give them a moment to explain first, okay?”

She didn’t want to give them a moment. She wanted to scream and throw things. She wanted to blame them for making such poor decisions. But she knew down to her core this wasn’t their fault. It was hers. She’d left them high and dry, and now they were in serious debt because of it.

“Friedrich was kind to us after…everything,” Otto calmly explained. “He knew I’d need to hire a winemaker and pull off my first harvest without you and your mother. We have always been good at paying what we owe, so he told me to take our time, to pay him when we were ready.”

“And we’re still not ready,” Alana replied, more as a statement than a question.

Otto nodded. “We invested in the tools we needed for the market, which was our way of hopefully bringing in more business. We also had to pay more field hands each year, and we have a winemaker’s salary to consider.”

“So fire him,” Alana declared. “Problem solved.”

His face darkened as he swiped a hand across his chest. “Absolutely not. Out of the question.”

Alana growled. “You would have more money⁠—”

“I will not let that boy go after everything he’s been through. If this family only ever functioned from a profit mindset, your mother would have never stayed on this farm.”

That silenced her. She licked her lips, then nodded. What could Leo have possibly gone through to illicit such vehement protection from her father? Otto had mentioned there was a girl back in New York, but there had to be more to the story. More Alana was not privy to. More secrets her family kept from her.

“I really think Mom would have loved Leo,” Sophie added. “She would have wanted him here. He’s been foundational at keeping things together for us.”

“Agreed,” Freya curtly replied.

Alana slumped back in her chair. She was outnumbered, but in the wake of this horrible news—knowing the role she’d played—she didn’t have the right to a say.

“If Friedrich has been okay with us not paying, then why the sudden change?” Sophie asked. “Why now?”

“Because he’s no longer in charge,” Freya answered. She squared her shoulders and finally dared to look at them. “He handed things off to his son at the beginning of the season.”

Klaus. “So he showed up today to, what? Settle his debts?”

Freya squirmed, the color in her cheeks deepening to a cherry-red. “No. He came to taunt me.”

Alana sat up in her seat. “Excuse me?!”

“He wanted to see how the market was going, curious if it was moving the needle at all.” Freya cracked her neck. “He’s the one pushing for a payment.”

The business meeting. The black capris and pink blazer and ugly-ass heels. “So it wasn’t a date.”

“Fuck you.”

Sophie kicked Freya under the table.

Alana tipped her chin. “How long have you known?”

Freya’s face tightened, brow furrowed, but she didn’t respond.

So she turned to her father. “How long has she known?”

“When I found out Klaus was taking over, I told her.”

“But when did you hand over the finances to her?”