CHAPTER 2 — The Farm Was Never His to Take
The first sheriff's SUV rolled through the front gate less than four minutes later.
Then another.
The wedding band stopped playing.
Guests drifted toward the windows, whispering.
"What happened?"
"Why are the police here?"
Preston forced a smile and slipped an arm around Sophie's waist.
"Relax, everyone," he called out. "Just a family misunderstanding."
No one looked convinced.
Sheriff Elias Ward stepped into the ballroom with two deputies behind him.
His eyes found me immediately.
"Mrs. Ellis."
"Are you alright?"
I nodded.
"He struck me."
"In front of everyone."
The sheriff turned toward the guests.
"Did anyone witness the assault?"
Silence.
Heavy.
Uncomfortable.
People avoided eye contact.
No one wanted to become involved.
Preston smiled confidently.
"You see?"
"My mother-in-law is emotional."
"She lost her husband."
"She's confused."
A few guests nodded awkwardly.
Then a voice broke the silence.
"I saw it."
Everyone turned.
The wedding photographer slowly lowered his camera.
"He slapped her."
Another voice followed.
"So did I."
The event planner stepped forward.
"He demanded the farm keys."
Within seconds...
the bartender.
Two waiters.
Three guests.
Even the minister raised his hand.
"We all saw it."
Preston's smile faded.
Sheriff Ward opened a small notebook.
"Mr. Vale..."
"You'll remain here while we finish taking statements."
Preston laughed.
"This is ridiculous."
"You're wasting time over a slap."
"No," the sheriff replied calmly.
"We're investigating attempted coercion."
Preston frowned.
"What coercion?"
"The attempt to force Mrs. Ellis to surrender her property through threats and violence."
Celeste scoffed.
"Property?"
"It's just an old farm."
"It's going to belong to Sophie anyway."
I finally spoke.
"No."
"It isn't."
Every head turned toward me.
"The farm doesn't belong to me."
Confusion spread across the room.
Preston frowned.
"What are you talking about?"
I reached into my purse again.
This time I removed a weathered envelope sealed with dark blue wax.
"I've carried this for twenty-three years."
"My husband made me promise never to open it..."
"...unless someone tried to steal Rosehill."
Sheriff Ward nodded once.
"It's time."
With steady hands, I broke the seal.
Inside was a handwritten letter.
And an original trust document.
I handed both to the sheriff.
He read silently for several moments.
Then looked up.
His expression changed completely.
He turned toward Preston.
"You've made a very serious mistake."
Preston folded his arms.
"I haven't taken anything."
The sheriff closed the folder.
"No."
"But according to Samuel Ellis's trust..."
"Rosehill Farm has never legally belonged to Marian Ellis."
The room went completely silent.
"It belongs to the Ellis Heritage Trust."
"And anyone who attempts to obtain it through intimidation..."
He looked directly at Preston.
"...automatically becomes the subject of a criminal fraud investigation."
The color drained from Preston's face.
"What?"
Before anyone could speak again...
a black luxury SUV rolled into the driveway.
An elderly woman stepped out carrying another leather portfolio.
Sheriff Ward smiled.
"Right on time."
Preston looked from the sheriff to the stranger.
"Who is she?"
I met his eyes.
"The trustee."
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"And she's about to explain why you were never marrying into my farm..."
"You were walking into a trap my husband set twenty-three years ago."
