Chapter 6 - Whispers at the GarageSterling left the paperwork on the workbench and walked out into the rain, his SUVs kicking up gravel as they sped off into the dark.
Mason picked up the legal notice, his hand trembling with quiet fury. Everything he had worked for—the shop his uncle left him, the livelihood that fed Emma—was slipping away.
Isabella reached out, resting her hand gently on his forearm. “I won’t let them take this from you, Mason.”
He looked down at her hand, feeling the warm touch that he had missed for ten long years. “You’re suspended, Isabella. You don’t have power over them anymore.”
“I have my own capital, and I have the original land deeds in my father’s vault,” she said with fierce determination. “There’s a loophole in the original contract my father signed. If we can find the physical deed before the county court opens on Monday, their eviction is legally void.”
That night, Isabella stayed in the guest room of Mason’s apartment. Late into the night, while Emma slept peacefully, Mason and Isabella sat at the small kitchen table over cups of hot coffee, reviewing old town maps and legal documents.
As the hours slipped by, the cold barriers between them began to melt. They talked not just about contracts, but about the lost years. Mason spoke about his late wife, Clara, and the painful grace of her passing. Isabella spoke about the hollow lonely nights in luxury hotels across Europe.
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“I never stopped thinking about you, Mason,” she whispered in the quiet kitchen.
Mason looked into her eyes, seeing the same girl he had loved on the mountain ridge ten years ago. “I tried to forget you, Isabella,” he admitted softly. “But I never could.”
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