That landed harder than I expected. Or maybe exactly as hard as it should have.

Trevor shifted, uneasy—not because of family tension, but because men like him understand power quickly when it affects contracts, deposits, and reputation. “Vanessa,” he said quietly, “maybe we should all take a breath.”

“No,” she snapped. “This is insane. You expect me to believe you own one of the most expensive venues in North Texas?”

Marcus stepped forward, composed. “Ms. Cole, I can provide documentation if needed.”

She turned sharply. “Stay out of this.”

He didn’t move. Good.

I folded my arms. “You told me I wasn’t welcome at your wedding.”

Vanessa flushed. “That was different.”

“Was it?”

Trevor looked between us, starting to understand. “You banned your own sister from a venue she owns?”

Vanessa spun toward him. “I didn’t know.”

“That’s the problem,” I said. “You knew just enough about me to feel superior.”

Her jaw tightened. “Oh, please. Don’t pretend this is some moral victory. If you had money, you would have said so.”