Page 17 of King of the Weld
"Thank you," she says suddenly, still focused on bandaging my hand. "For what you did out there. For standing up to them."
"They were trespassing," I reply simply. "Anyone would have done the same."
She shakes her head. "No, they wouldn't. Most people would have seen my father's car, recognized who he was, and handed me over with apologies for the inconvenience."
She's not wrong. Edward Valentine's name carries weight in these parts. The kind of weight that makes people bend, accommodate, look the other way.
"I'm not most people," I say.
"No," she agrees, meeting my eyes as she finishes with the bandage. "You're not."
"Sheriff will be here soon," I say, standing abruptly. "I need to make a call to one of my brothers before he arrives."
Sophia nods, gathering the first aid supplies. "I'll put these away."
I step onto the porch, pulling my cell phone from my pocket. The number I need isn't in my contacts. I don't call often enough to justify saving it, but I've memorized it, along with the numbers for all my brothers. Just in case.
Michael answers on the third ring.
"Ethan?" His voice carries the surprise and concern that colors all our infrequent conversations. "Everything okay?"
"Not exactly," I admit, scanning the tree line out of habit. Old instincts die hard. "I've got a situation that might require your particular skillset."
"My skillset?" he repeats, suddenly more alert. "What kind of trouble are you in?"
"Not me," I clarify. "Someone I'm helping. Sophia Valentine."
There's a pause, then a low whistle. "Valentine? As in Edward Valentine's daughter?"
"The same," I confirm, surprised by his immediate recognition. "You know them?"
"Know them?" Michael laughs without humor. "Morrison International does business with Valentine Enterprises on three different continents. Edward sits on the board of a tech company I acquired last year. We're not friends, but we're definitely in the same circles."
"So, you won't help," I conclude, disappointment settling heavy in my chest.
"I didn't say that," Michael corrects me quickly. "What's the situation exactly?"
I give him the condensed version. Sophia's escape from an arranged marriage, her arrival at my property, her father's attempt to reclaim her by force. I leave out some of the more violent details, but Michael knows me well enough to read between the lines.
"And you're involved because...?" he prompts when I finish.
"Because she needed help," I say simply. "Because it was the right thing to do."
Michael is silent for a moment, and I can almost see him pinching the bridge of his nose, a gesture he's had since childhood when thinking through complex problems.
"What do you need from me?" he finally asks.
"Leverage," I reply. "Something that will make Edward Valentine back off, let his daughter live her own life."
Another silence, longer this time. When Michael speaks again, his voice has shifted to what David calls his "business mode", focused and calculating.
"I might have something better than leverage. I have direct influence."
"What do you mean?"
"Valentine Enterprises and Morrison International are partners in a new development project in Singapore. Hundred-million-dollar deal, with the potential for billions more in the Asian market over the next decade." Michael's voice takes on an edge I rarely hear from my typically easy-going brother. "It's a deal Edward needs badly, more badly than he's let on to his business associates. From what my team has gathered, the Valentine finances aren't what they once were."
"Sophia mentioned that," I confirm. "Said the marriage was partly about the Blackwood money."
