Page 44 of The Wrong Ride Home (Wildflower Canyon #1)

But now, listening to these powerful men and women talk about Wilder Ranch like it was nothing more than prime real estate waiting to be exploited, I felt sick.

Because the thought of this land—this legacy—paved over, stripped bare, turned into another Goddamn development wasn’t just sound business anymore—it felt like sacrilege.

I wish I’d had this epiphany months ago, so I didn’t have to be sitting here with these people wanting to hit someone.

Comfortable in my decision to not sell, I relaxed in my chair and threw out my opening salvo, more for entertainment than for any other purpose.

“For $250 million? That’d be the dumbest deal of the century. This place brings in $50 million a year. Hell, in five years, I’d make that money back and still have the land.”

“That’s a generous offer,” Piper warned.

“Between inheritance taxes, land taxes, and every other Goddamn thing the government can throw at you, they’ll gut you before they let you keep a hundred thousand acres of prime real estate.

” She smiled, slow and sharp. “You’re better off cashing out while you still can. ”

I didn’t bat an eyelid. “Look, at $50M per year in revenue, the ranch would pay for itself in just five years. I’d say that we could easily sell for ten times the annual revenue, meaning Wilder Ranch is worth a whole hell of a lot more than what your money nerds came up with. ”

Kaz looked amused, while the congressman looked flustered. Did they think I wouldn’t do my homework?

Congressman Thornton cleared his throat. "Now, son, let’s not get carried away. Land value is based on what someone’s willing to pay, not just what it earns in a year."

I grinned. "Exactly. And if you think $250 million is what this land is worth, you’re out of your Goddamn minds."

Piper forced out a breath between clenched teeth, placing her wine glass down with a little too much force.

“Duke, we’re talking guaranteed money—no more headaches.

No more dealing with cattle prices, droughts, or whatever other nonsense comes with running a ranch. Just a clean break, cash in hand.”

I pretended like I was giving it some thought and then shook my head. "Let me get this straight. You want me to trade generational wealth for a payout that barely scratches the surface of my ranch’s potential?”

Fiona sighed dramatically. “It’s an exit strategy, Duke—a smart one. You think I’m going to let you get screwed on a deal? You could take that money, start fresh, invest it in something more scalable—hell, you could build a new empire or keep growing Ironwood.”

“I don’t need the money, Fiona,” I retorted.

“Then what is it you need?” she asked flustered.

Kaz, the smooth bastard, watched me with a lazy kind of interest like he was waiting to see if I’d take the bait. “Now, Duke, I never expected you to turn sentimental.”

I stilled. What was the son of a bitch up to ?

Piper’s gaze sharpened like she smelled blood. "Is that what this is? Christ, Duke, people sell their family’s lands all the time. It’s called progress."

The congressman scoffed. “Are you really throwing away hundreds of millions because you’ve got some cowboy nostalgia?”

I let them talk. Let them think they had me on the ropes. Then, I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the table. “Read my lips. No deal for two fifty.”

Kaz’s grin widened. “How much to deal, Duke?”

I glanced at him. The man was confusing the hell out of me.

“Seven fifty.” I threw the number because it was over the top.

Piper gasped. Kaz laughed. Fiona hissed. The congressman looked like he was about to have a heart attack.

I raised a hand to silence them. “In the name of transparency, I want to amend my answer to Kaz’s question.” I paused and stretched it. “Appreciate your time, folks, but I’m not selling…for any amount of money.”

Silence.

Then—

“Excuse me?” Fiona’s head snapped toward me so fast I thought she might break her neck.

I met her gaze, calm as hell. “I said I’m not selling.”

Piper blinked. “You’re joking.”

I could see the wheels turn in her head. She’d thought I’d gotten into an argument with Gloria; I’m sure my mother spun it that way, asking Fiona to gently bring me to heel, which she thought she could with money. A few months ago, she would’ve been right.

“I don’t joke about business.”

The congressman let out a slow breath, tapping his fingers against the table. “Son, do you understand what you’re walking away from?”

I smiled. “Perfectly.”

Kaz’s eyes gleamed with amusement as he lifted his glass to his lips, saying nothing.

Piper let out a sharp laugh, shaking her head. “Well, that’s disappointing.”

“I think it’s interesting,” Kaz commented.

Fiona looked like she was seconds from ripping my throat out.

Congressman Thornton shook his head, his lips pursed. “Son, you’ve just bought yourself a whole hell of a lot of trouble.”

“I reckon I have, Congressman.” I pushed my chair back and stood. “Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

Then I walked out, my heart hammering so hard I was sure everyone in the restaurant could hear it. I’d done it. I’d turned down a whole hell of a lot of money, and I felt damn good doing it.

I began to walk to the rental car that was parked a little ways away

Aspen at night was just as polished as it was during the day. The streets glowed with soft golden lights from the high-end restaurants and boutique hotels. Well-dressed couples strolled down the sidewalks, ski jackets perfectly tailored, their laughter effortless.

I was halfway down the block when I heard the sharp click of heels on pavement.

“Duke!”

I didn’t stop.

She caught up anyway, stepping in front of me, forcing me to halt. Fiona looked livid—eyes blazing, breath coming fast, hands curled into fists.

“You son of a bitch,” she seethed. “Gloria was right; you’re not selling.”

I tilted my head, pretending to think. “Guess not.”

She let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Why didn’t you just tell me the truth?”

I stepped closer, my voice low. “I owe you no truths. The ranch is mine. You’re an employee.” Not for long, but you are.

Her breath hitched, but her pride wouldn’t let her back down. “You need to go back and settle this with Piper. She doesn’t take well to being led on.”

I smirked. “That a threat?”

She swallowed hard. “Piper Novak is?—"

“You’re fired, Fiona.”

Her mouth opened, closed, then opened again. “You can’t?—”

“I can. And I did.”

She stared at me, furious and trapped. “On what grounds?”

“Lack of competence in handling the Wilder Ranch project.”

“But you don’t even want to sell. ”

I shrugged. “Doesn’t change that you handled it all wrong. Also, ethical issues.”

She snorted. Yeah, so maybe I wasn’t that ethical—but I was always on the right side of the law.

“We’re going to do an internal audit of all projects you worked on, including Evergreen, to check for any irregularities.” She went pale. “Come after me for wrongful termination, and I’ll drag your name through every legal channel I can find and make sure you never work as a lawyer again.”

“ Duke ,” she breathed.

“Your stuff’s already been moved to a suite at The St. Regis.” I pointed to the resort that was across the street from where we stood.

That was the final blow. She knew then—this wasn’t a heat-of-the-moment decision. This had been my plan all along. I’d asked Hunt to take care of removing Fiona from the ranch, and he had with Itzel’s help.

Her voice wavered. “You’re a bastard, Duke Wilder.”

“You have no idea.”