Chapter 2: The Heroine’s Mask Falls

Scanning the crowd, I spotted Savannah Miller squeezing in and quickly standing in front of me.

She looked flustered, hair a little messy, but her eyes were sharp, calculating. She was ready. The room quieted as she stepped forward, like everyone was waiting for her cue.

She pretended to keep order, quieted everyone, then gave me a reproachful look. She paused for effect, letting the silence hang.

Her voice was soft, almost gentle, but her words cut deep.

"Ethan, I heard you hurt the neighbors. Everyone watched you grow up—even if you’re cold, you can’t hurt them."

"We’re about to get married. Don’t embarrass me in front of everyone, okay? Just listen—whatever you took, just give it back."

"But after this, I’m afraid no one will trust you with the redevelopment anymore... I think..."

I sneered and finished her thought. I couldn’t help myself.

My lips curled into a smirk, my patience gone. No more pretending.

"You think you should be in charge, right?"

Savannah’s face froze, then she tried to play innocent, saying I misunderstood her. But the smile she couldn’t hide gave her away.

She dropped her eyes, but a little grin tugged at the corners of her mouth. The crowd murmured, sensing blood in the water.

In seconds, she jumped at the chance.

She straightened up, voice growing stronger as she turned to face the crowd.

"Actually, I can take over... I was there every time you met with the city guys. I know how you handled things."

"It seemed pretty simple... I didn’t go to college, but I’ve kept learning—I’m not that far behind you."

"If everyone trusts me, I can handle the redevelopment!"

She sounded convincing, and the others, like they’d practiced, quickly agreed to make Savannah the new lead.

It was like watching a play, everyone hitting their marks, ready to rewrite the script with Savannah as the star. I felt like a ghost at my own funeral. Invisible.

At that point, I finally believed those floating comments were real.

Maybe I was losing my mind, but the timing was too perfect. Every line from the comments was playing out in real life, right in front of me.

I knew Savannah was always ambitious. Her family never let her go to college, so she always wanted to prove herself—to get ahead.

I respected that about her, honestly. But I never thought she’d use me as her stepping stone, not like this. Not with everyone watching.

That’s not a bad thing. People need ambition. But she shouldn’t climb by stepping on me, especially not like this. Not like this.

My money didn’t come from nowhere, and just because Savannah was the so-called heroine in those floating comments didn’t mean I had to take the fall.

I laughed coldly and called them out in front of everyone.

My voice rang out, sharp and clear, slicing through the noise. No more holding back.

"Savannah, you were there every time I went out to negotiate. So you spread rumors about me stealing, made everyone believe you, and used it to cozy up to the mogul, right?"

Savannah’s eyes widened and she took a few steps back, guilt written all over her face.

She looked like she’d just been slapped. Her cheeks flushed, and she darted a look at the crowd, suddenly unsure.

She didn’t answer me, just turned to the others. Her eyes flicked nervously from face to face. She was looking for backup.

"Who let it slip? Didn’t I tell y’all to keep quiet?"

The crowd started shouting again.

The dam broke—everyone talking over each other, pointing fingers, voices rising with every accusation.

"So what if it slipped? It’s true you skimmed money! You could’ve taken us out for burgers, but you had to blow a grand at the steakhouse! I read online, that’s money laundering!"

"The redevelopment is thanks to our town—what’s it got to do with him!"

"Savannah, didn’t you say his bank account’s got thousands? His family used to be broke—where else could that money come from but stealing!"

"And what do we have to be afraid of? Without us, he’s got no one to work with—he’ll have to beg us!"

With their support, Savannah dropped the act.

She squared her shoulders, chin up, ready to take her place at the head of the table.

"Yeah, I told everyone you took a cut—so what? Isn’t it true?"

"Mr. Walker himself said our town could’ve gotten $60 per square, so why’d you only get $50? As the one in charge, you must’ve played us!"

"Now that the truth’s out, just give up—return the money, and hand the redevelopment to me. Don’t be the town villain!"

My face darkened, and I felt bitter inside.

I could feel the anger burning in my chest, but I refused to let them see me break. I just stared at Savannah, wondering how she could stand there and lie so easily.

My family used to be broke, sure. But I worked my ass off in college, picked up every shift I could. After bills, I managed to save a little.

I’d hustled every summer, picked up side gigs, lived off ramen and secondhand clothes. Every dollar I had was earned the hard way.

And after coming home to manage construction projects, every penny I made was legit.

I kept records, paid taxes, even hired local kids when I could. I’d never taken a dime that wasn’t mine.

But because Savannah once saw my bank balance, she assumed it was all from kickbacks?

I remembered the day she’d peeked at my phone, eyes wide at the number on the screen. I tried to explain, but she just smiled and said, "Must be nice."

And the others, too—just believing the mogul’s words, turning on me for a little extra cash.

Loyalty was cheap these days. A rumor and a promise of a bigger check, and suddenly I was the enemy. Guess that’s all it takes.

But they had no idea.

They didn’t know half of what I’d been working on, the deals I’d been lining up, the future they were about to throw away.

Just a few days ago, I grabbed a beer with my buddy Caleb Woods. Showed him my plans, and he was all in—said the place was perfect for a resort.

Caleb was the kind of guy who could make things happen. When he said "perfect," you knew it meant money was about to rain down.

If the Woods family takes over and turns the senior center into a resort, the payout won’t be $50 per square foot—it’ll be $150!

That’s not just pocket change—that’s generational wealth. The kind of deal folks dream about but never really believe will happen in a place like Maple Heights.

I was planning to come back and tell everyone the good news. But now, seeing how eager they were to kick me out and work with the mogul, I lost all motivation. I didn’t want to give them this chance to get rich.

Why should I hand them a golden ticket after the way they’d treated me? Let them settle for scraps if that’s what they want. Not my problem anymore.

Honestly, I almost wanted to let them go ahead and work with the mogul.

Let them see what happens when you trust a snake. Maybe then they’d understand what they’d lost.

But to make me take the blame and hand over money I never took? Not a chance!

I wasn’t going to let them ruin my name just to save face. I had my pride, and I wasn’t about to give that up for anyone.

I looked around, memorizing their faces. I let the silence stretch for a beat.

"If you want Savannah in charge, fine. If you want to sell the houses to the mogul, go ahead."

"But what I haven’t stolen, I haven’t stolen. Threatening me won’t work. Kick me out if you want—I don’t care about staying in your town!"

The words hung in the air, sharp as broken glass. I felt lighter already, like a weight had been lifted off my chest. Finally.

As soon as I finished, people at the door started cheering.

A couple of the younger guys started clapping, while the rest of the crowd parted like the Red Sea.

"Move it, move it! Make way for the VIP!"

"Mr. Walker is here!"

Savannah looked thrilled. She whipped out the latest iPhone I’d just bought her and fixed her hair.

She checked her reflection in the screen, smoothed her blouse, and pasted on her best pageant smile. You’d think she was meeting a movie star, not a real estate shark. She was always good at putting on a show.

When the visitor arrived, she put on her sweetest smile.

She bounced on her toes, voice syrupy-sweet.

"Mr. Walker, what brings you here in person?"

Mr. Walker smiled and patted Savannah’s head like she was a kid.

All charm. All teeth. The kind of guy who could sell you your own house and make you thank him for it.

"I was worried you’d get bullied, being just a young woman."

Savannah blushed, and the floating comments went wild.

Her cheeks turned pink, and she ducked her head, but her eyes sparkled with excitement. The comments above her head flashed like confetti. She was eating it up.

[The mogul is so sweet, worrying about our heroine—he even pushed back an international meeting to support her!]

[Of course, she’s the chosen daughter-in-law. He really values her!]

But I noticed the mogul wipe his hand, like he couldn’t wait to scrub off her touch.

He did it quick, subtle, but I caught it. His eyes were cold, calculating—no warmth at all. I almost laughed.

Clearly, Savannah and those floating comments were still lost in their Cinderella fantasy.

They didn’t see the truth—didn’t want to. Fairy tales were easier than reality.

I watched, amused, meeting the mogul’s gaze. He looked down at me, eyes full of contempt.

He gave me a once-over, like I was something he’d scrape off his shoe. I held his stare, refusing to blink. Not backing down.

"You’re the Ethan Savannah mentioned? Kid, you’re not exactly decent."

He said it like a judge passing sentence. The crowd murmured, eager for drama.

Savannah quickly leaned in to curry favor.

She sidled up. Voice sweet as pie.

"Mr. Walker, you came just in time. Ethan already agreed to hand things over to me. But he still won’t admit to stealing or give the money back to the neighbors."