Chapter 2 - Fourteen Months
Isabel did not sleep in the bedroom she shared with Julian.
She locked herself inside the small upstairs office overlooking the western vines and placed the leather ledger on the desk.
Julian knocked twice.
“Isabel.”
She did not answer.
A third knock came twenty minutes later.
Then silence.
At two in the morning, Isabel was still reading.
The north parcel had always seemed insignificant to outsiders—eleven-point-eight acres of rocky hillside that produced fewer grapes than the lower fields.
But her father had refused every offer to sell it.
“The vines aren’t the valuable part,” Miguel Reyes had once told her.
At the time, Isabel had assumed he meant sentimental value.
Now she found a handwritten note clipped behind the forged deed.
Primary well access. Upper aquifer easement. Do not separate from operational acreage.
Her stomach tightened.
The north parcel contained the oldest functioning agricultural well on the property.
During dry years, that well helped keep nearly forty additional acres alive.
Whoever controlled those eleven acres could create enormous leverage over the rest of the vineyard.
A quiet knock came at the office door.
This time, Isabel opened it.
Julian stood in the hallway wearing the same white shirt from dinner, the sleeves rolled to his elbows.
“I need to explain.”
“You need to answer.”
“Yes.”
She allowed him inside but remained standing.
The ledger stayed behind her on the desk.
Julian glanced toward it.
“When did you first discuss getting me to transfer the vineyard?”
His eyes returned to hers.
“About eight months ago.”
“The recording says otherwise.”
“That video was today.”
“The deed is fourteen months old.”
“I didn’t know about that deed.”
“Your initials are on it.”
“They’re on a note attached to it. I haven’t seen that document before.”
Isabel laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
“Convenient.”
“I know.”
“No, I don’t think you do.”
He stepped closer.
“I never married you for this land.”
“Then explain the recording.”
Julian rubbed a hand over his face.
“Laurent Cellars is in trouble.”
Isabel stared at him.
Julian’s family winery occupied sixty-five acres two miles east. Helena had run it since Julian’s father, André, died six years earlier.
“They’re always complaining about cash flow.”
“This isn’t cash flow. Their agricultural loan resets in November. The interest payment nearly doubles.”
“And?”
“And Mom has been trying to refinance.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
“The bank wanted more collateral.”
The answer landed slowly.
Isabel looked toward the dark window.
“My vineyard.”
“Not exactly.”
She turned.
“Do not insult me with technical wording.”
Julian swallowed.
“The plan was to combine operations under a new holding company. Reyes would keep its brand. Laurent would keep its brand. The land would support a larger credit facility.”
“And you were going to convince me to sign without telling me why?”
“I was trying to find a way to explain it.”
“No. You were trying to find a way to make me agree.”
He did not deny it.
Isabel felt something inside her marriage tear with almost no sound.
“How much does Laurent owe?”
“Seven-point-four million.”
She stared at him.
Julian continued.
“Some of that is long-term property debt. The immediate problem is around two million.”
“And your mother thought my vineyard could save hers.”
“She believes combining the properties is the only realistic solution.”
“Do you?”
“I believed it might protect both.”
“My vineyard isn’t failing.”
“No, but the last two fire seasons hurt you too.”
“We survived them.”
“With almost no reserve.”
“It’s still mine.”
“Yes.”
He said it softly.
She hated him for making the word sound sincere.
Isabel picked up the deed copy.
“Did you ever give Helena a copy of my signature?”
Julian stiffened.
That was answer enough.
“What did you give her?”
“Last year she asked for copies of our tax records and the spousal consent forms from the equipment lease.”
“Those had my signature.”
“Yes.”
“Did you ask why?”
“She said her attorney needed examples of how the Reyes ownership should be listed in the proposed documents.”
Isabel stared at him.
“You gave her my signature.”
“I gave my mother financial records.”
“You gave someone who wanted my property a clean sample of my signature.”
“I didn’t know she was forging anything.”
“But you knew she wanted the land.”
Julian had no answer.
Her phone vibrated.
A message from Camila.
Sofia is upset. She thinks Grandma is angry at her. I’m taking her home. Please don’t involve her in any more of this tonight.
Isabel closed her eyes briefly.
A child had accidentally exposed what four adults had hidden.
That disturbed her almost as much as the documents.
“I need Sofia’s original video preserved,” Isabel said.
Julian nodded.
“I already sent a copy to your email.”
She looked at him.
“Why?”
“Because after seeing that deed, I don’t trust my mother with the only copy.”
The words surprised her.
They did not comfort her.
“Leave.”
“Isabel—”
“Leave.”
Julian moved toward the door.
Before he reached it, she asked, “Did you know about the north parcel?”
He turned.
“No.”
“Did you know your mother wanted it specifically?”
A pause.
“She mentioned water security.”
That answer hurt more.
“You knew enough to ask questions.”
“Yes.”
“But you didn’t.”
His voice dropped.
“No.”
Isabel opened the door.
Julian walked out.
At sunrise, she was still awake.
She called Maya Chen, an attorney in Santa Rosa who had handled a contract dispute for Reyes Vineyard two years earlier.
Maya answered on the fourth ring.
“Isabel?”
“I think someone forged my signature on a deed.”
There was a brief silence.
“Do not confront anyone else.”
“Too late.”
“Do you have a copy?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know whether it was actually recorded with the county?”
“The ledger says it was.”
“That does not prove it was. We verify first.”
Isabel looked toward the vineyard.
“And if it was?”
“Then we determine exactly what happened, preserve evidence, and stop anything else from moving.”
Maya paused.
“Isabel, is the person you suspect someone with access to your records?”
Isabel looked through the open office door toward the hallway where Julian had disappeared.
“Yes.”
“Your husband?”
Isabel did not answer.
Maya understood anyway.
“I’ll meet you at my office at nine.”
Before Isabel could hang up, movement below caught her eye.
A black SUV was driving slowly along the north access road.
It stopped beside the old well.
Two men stepped out.
One unfolded a survey tripod.
The other carried bright orange property stakes.
Isabel’s blood went cold.
Someone was not merely planning to take the north parcel.
May you like
Someone had already begun treating it as theirs.
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