He never hid how he felt about the farm.

“Too much work for too little profit,” he’d say.

“Imagine what that land could be worth if somebody developed it.”

Or my personal favorite:

“You’re sitting on millions and pretending it’s sentimental.”

Thomas used to warn me about men like Carter.

“People who only see dollar signs eventually stop seeing people.”

I wish Emily had listened to her father more carefully.

Three months before the wedding, the county announced plans for a highway expansion less than two miles from our property.

Everything changed overnight.

Developers started calling constantly. Real estate agents mailed offers weekly. Even neighbors who had ignored me for years suddenly acted friendly.

And Carter?

Carter became obsessed.

He started asking questions about inheritance laws. Property taxes. Trust ownership. Whether I had updated my will.

Then one evening during dinner, he casually suggested I “gift” the farm to Emily as a wedding present.

I laughed because I honestly thought he was joking.

He wasn’t.

When I refused, his entire personality shifted.

The charm disappeared almost instantly.

After that, Emily started calling me constantly. Not to talk. Not to visit. Only to pressure me.

“Mom, Carter says managing the farm is too stressful for you.”

“Mom, we could develop the land together.”

“Mom, Dad would want me to have it eventually anyway.”

Every conversation felt rehearsed.

Every word sounded planted.

Still, I convinced myself things would calm down after the wedding.

I was wrong.

The reception had barely started before Carter cornered me near the gift table. Vanessa hovered nearby with a champagne glass in hand, pretending to watch while listening to every word.

Carter smiled tightly. “So. Did you bring them?”

I frowned. “Bring what?”

“The farm keys.”

I actually laughed once because the idea sounded ridiculous.