Final Offer (Dreamland Billionaires, #3)(34)

“It’s actually kind of fun, although if he had things his way, the entire house would be black.”

I’m not looking for fun. I want easy. Simple. Safe. Because the longer I stick around Lake Wisteria, the more I put myself at risk for remembering all that I left behind.

The life I could have had.

The only woman I ever loved.

The future I threw away because of an addiction.

If I want to get out of this town unscathed, then I need to sell the house sooner rather than later.





Before I make a decision about the house price, I want to be well-informed about the other houses in the area. I spend the next two days researching every single surrounding lakefront property that has sold in the last five years. Out of those seventy homes put on the market, ten were purchased for over three million dollars. The other sixty properties were bought for half the price, which was still more than the quote we received from the appraiser.

Basically, my shot at hitting gold with Lana’s list price will come down to two things: a kick-ass renovation job and enough money to make it happen within three months.

I call the one construction company in all of Lake Wisteria, only to be given the brush-off once I give them my full name. They weren’t even willing to add me to their waitlist, which apparently is five years long.

Did you expect anything less from a town full of people who hate you?

The next town isn’t much better. Although they have a shorter waitlist, the six-month wait time can’t be changed regardless of how much money I am willing to pay.

Frustrated and about ready to pull my hair out, I decide to take a walk to clear my head. I pass the main house on my way to the road. The driveway is empty, so Lana must still be at work.

I keep to the sidewalk during my walk. Each house is acres apart, with their own private driveways leading up to their houses. The houses I used to recognize as a kid are all gone, replaced by mega modern mansions on massive plots of land overlooking the glittering lake.

With each step I take, the truth becomes more obvious. While my grandfather’s estate has stayed the same, a majority of the houses have been bought out and completely rebuilt.

Lana might have been on to something when she mentioned remodeling.

Fifteen minutes into my walk, I come across a construction site that is completely blocked off from the public by a perimeter fence. Pinned to the fence is a large sign promoting Lopez Luxury.

A quick search on Google tells me they’re a rather new company—less than ten years old—and based out of Michigan.

Just what I need.

I dial the number and ask to speak with someone who can help me get a renovation done in three months. This time, when I give my full name, I’m transferred directly to Julian Lopez, the head of the company, no questions asked.

“Mr. Kane.” The low rumble of Mr. Lopez’s voice fills my ear.

“Mr. Lopez.”

“Please call me Julian. So, I hear you need a renovation job done in three months.”

“Can you help me?”

He doesn’t miss a beat. “Depends on if you’re willing to do the same.”

Of course, there is a catch. “What do you want?”

“To have my company chosen for one Kane Company project.”

“Are you looking to expand your services to the hospitality industry?”

“Something like that.” His deep chuckle lacks any kind of warmth—just like his personality.

Brady's lawyer said my brothers couldn’t get involved with the house sale, but he never mentioned anything about offering someone a job in the company in exchange for services.

Look at you finding legal loopholes.

I know my brothers will find Mr. Lopez something to do, however small. “If your team can remodel my house in three months, then—”

“Done. My assistant will be in contact with you to schedule a meeting with one of my best contractors.”

The line goes dead without him bothering to say goodbye. Mr. Lopez reminds me of Declan, with his sharp tone and no-bullshit attitude.

Another piece of my plan slides into place, slowly building my confidence. Declan might think I’m good at failing, but I plan on proving him and everyone else who doubted me wrong.





14





ALANA





“Mommy! Look!” Cami runs into the kitchen, dropping envelopes of mail behind her like a breadcrumb trail.

“?Cuidado!” I grab her before she runs straight into an open cabinet.

She holds her envelope high in the air. “I got mail!”

I recognize the logo instantly. It’s been a few months since Cami took the entrance exam for Wisteria Prep, an exclusive private school that only opened a few years ago to cater to the families moving here from Chicago. Cami begged me to apply since a few of her friends were transferring there, so I let her even though the principal warned me they only had two seats available for the incoming first-grade class.

My girl is the smartest kid I know, but those kinds of places are all about politics and who you know. Her chances of getting in were always slim.

Which is why you have to face the consequences of your actions.

She bounces up and down, waving the envelope in the air. “Can we open it now? Please?”

“Let me do it.” At least that way I can have a second to mentally prepare for how I’ll break the news to her.