[PART 3 — THE SECRET] He didn’t realize that while he was playing “local tycoon,” I was playing the long game. Six months ago, I discovered that Sterling had neglected a massive environmental remediation project on the northern edge of the property back in 1994. I didn’t go to the papers; I went to the County Recorder’s office with a very specific, very ironclad lien for $112,450.82 in unpaid restoration costs and interest. I’d spent my nights at the “Oak Creek Law Library” under the glow of flickering fluorescent lights. The lien was quiet, deep, and perfectly legal. It sat on the title like a ticking time bomb, waiting for him to try and transfer the deed.
[PART 4 — THE EXIT] I didn’t argue with him or cause a scene in front of the altar. Instead, I reached into my clutch and pulled out a single, notarized document from the County Sheriff’s Office. I handed it to him with a warm, terrifying smile that stopped his laughter mid-breath. “A wedding gift,” I said softly, “since you’re so fond of paperwork.”
As he took the envelope, I turned on my heel and walked toward the heavy oak doors of the church. I didn’t look back to see him open it, but I heard the sharp, ragged intake of breath. He had just “sold” the property to a developer for three million dollars, but with my lien attached, the escrow was officially frozen. He was now legally liable for a sum he didn’t have, to a woman he’d tried to erase.
