"The service discrepancy is real," Maya said, dropping a thick manila folder onto the lodge's dining table.
She didn't sit down. My lawyer kept her coat on, her fingers resting flat against the cardboard cover.
"The county clerk logged the final judgment, but the defendant's delivery acknowledgment is unsigned, and its entry date does not match the judgment," Maya explained, her tone clipped. "A judge has to confirm if the divorce requires a formal correction. Until that happens, any bank or media outlet pulling the public record will see your marital status as pending."
I didn't ask if I was legally bound to the man standing on the other side of the room. I stared directly at the folder.
"Does this compromise my purchase of Juniper Ridge?" I asked. "I bought this property fourteen months ago under my own name."
"The title itself is likely secure," Maya replied, finally pulling out a chair. "But your lenders and investors will demand secondary legal opinions. A public dispute over your marital assets will amplify their risk assessment."
Julian stepped away from the stone fireplace. He adjusted the cuff of his navy shirt, his expression entirely unbothered by the legal crisis sitting on my table.
"I can handle the lenders," Julian said.
I turned my head, locking my gaze on him. "Every time you say that, I lose a little more space to decide how I live."
"I am offering a practical solution," he countered smoothly. He walked toward the table, stopping just short of Maya's chair. "My team flagged the anomaly during our due diligence for the capital transfer. We can correct the filing quietly. No media leaks. No bank panic."
I crossed my arms. "And the catch?"
"Until the paperwork is finalized, you freeze your public dynamic with Beck," Julian said. "You do not advance the relationship. You avoid giving my board of directors any reason to claim a conflict of interest regarding the site security director."
The room went dead silent. Maya kept her eyes glued to her notepad.
I looked at Julian's calm, calculating face. He didn't sound angry or jealous. He sounded like a CEO negotiating a merger.
"You want me to pause my life," I said, my voice dropping. "You want me to step back from Beck, and in exchange, you'll make the paperwork problem disappear."
"I want to protect the asset," Julian corrected.
"No." I shifted my attention back to my lawyer. "Maya, submit the correction application directly to the county court today. Do not route a single page through his corporate team."
Julian's jaw tightened. It was a tiny shift, but I caught it.
"If you bypass my legal department, the investment committee will instantly launch a risk review on the ranch," Julian warned.
"Then let them review it," I told him. "File it, Maya."
By three o'clock, the tension in the main lodge had pushed me out into the stables.
Beck had attended the afternoon safety briefing, but the second I dismissed the staff, he walked out. He didn't stay to check the trail rosters. He didn't ask about my morning.
I found him in the tack room. He stood by the back wall, running a stiff brush over a leather harness.
I pushed the heavy oak door shut behind me. The latch clicked loudly in the narrow space.
"Tessa told you about the gala seating card," I said.
Beck didn't stop brushing the leather. "She mentioned the gold foil."
"I didn't accept Julian's terms," I told him, stepping closer to the workbench. "He offered to fix the court error if I agreed to put distance between us. I told my lawyer to file the papers independently."
Beck paused. He set the brush down on the scarred wood and turned to face me. The overhead bulb cast sharp shadows across his cheekbones.
"I'm not asking you to pretend nothing happened between us," I added.
"I believe you," Beck said. His voice lacked its usual warmth. It was steady, grounded, and completely guarded. "But I won't be the yardstick Julian uses to measure if his marriage is worth saving."
I gripped the edge of the workbench. "That isn't what you are."
"Isn't it?" Beck asked, stepping forward. He stopped exactly two feet away. "He moved into your guest room. He controls your budget. Now he's using a clerical error to dictate who you stand next to in public."
"I am fighting him on every front, Beck."
"I know you are," he replied, his green eyes locking onto mine. "And if you need to fight your ex-husband to save this ranch, I will help you guard the perimeter. I will keep the horses safe. But I will not stand inside a marital triangle while you prove a point."
He grabbed a clean rag from the shelf and wiped his hands.
"Call me when the ink on your past is actually dry," Beck said.
He walked past me, pulling the oak door open and stepping out into the brisk afternoon air.
I stayed in the tack room for a long time, listening to the horses shifting in their stalls.
At ten that night, the lodge was quiet. I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at my phone screen.
Maya had just forwarded an email. It contained a timestamped digital log from the county clerk's office.
My pulse hammered against my ribs. I read the dates three times to make sure I wasn't misunderstanding the legal jargon.
I stood up, grabbed my phone, and marched down the hall.
The light in the second-floor study was still on. I pushed the door open without knocking.
Julian sat behind the mahogany desk. A glowing laptop screen illuminated his face. He held a silver pen, reviewing a printed stack of Juniper Ridge's cash flow forecasts.
He glanced up as I crossed the rug. "The marketing budget is still inflated."
I didn't answer. I walked straight to the desk and slapped my phone down on top of his financial reports.
"Look at the date on that file request," I demanded.
Julian lowered his pen. He looked at the bright screen.
"Your legal team requested certified copies of my divorce records nine days before you signed the capital transfer," I said, my voice shaking with cold fury. "You didn't find out about the missing service signature during a routine check this morning."
Julian kept his eyes on the phone.
"You knew I might still be listed as your wife before you bought my biggest investment right, didn't you?" I asked.
Julian slowly lifted his head, his dark eyes meeting mine, and he didn't utter a single word of denial.
