Chapter 18 - The Virginia Hills
Spring had arrived in Middleburg.
The dogwoods were blooming white and pink along the winding gravel driveway of the Sterling Estate, and the sound of running water from the creek filled the warm afternoon air.
I walked through the pastures with my father, watching two young thoroughbred colts running along the wooden fence line.
Vance walked slowly, leaning slightly on his silver-topped cane, his breathing steady, his gray eyes watching the horses with quiet satisfaction.
"You handled the Hudson Yards acquisition well, Katherine," Vance said softly. "The mayor’s office was very cooperative."
"They knew what happened to Miller," I smiled, stepping over a patch of clover. "It makes negotiations much smoother."
My father laughed—a low, warm sound that drifted through the quiet pasture.
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"Power isn't about hurting people, Katherine," Vance said, stopping beside the wooden fence to watch the colts. "Power is about ensuring that those who attempt to hurt you understand the precise cost of their ambition."
"I know, Father," I whispered, resting my hand over his on the wooden fence rail.
