Chapter 4
On the day we went to apply for our marriage license, the clerk behind the counter glanced back and forth between our IDs and us, doing a double-take she didn't even bother hiding.
Thirty-two and forty. The age gap was impossible to miss.
Jack showed up in a plain, crisp white button-down, his hair damp and neatly combed like he'd just run a wet hand through it—and that was the extent of his dressing up.
When we got to the county clerk's office to sign for our marriage license, Jack stood stiff beside me, his shoulders tensed up like he was bracing for a fight.
"Just sign here, and here," the clerk said, sliding the license and a pen across the counter.
Jack picked up the pen, his calloused fingers wrapping around it awkwardly. He glanced at me for a split second, like he needed a little reassurance, then scrawled his name on the line.
His handwriting was messy and sharp, like he was in a hurry to get it over with but still wanted it to count.
Once it was done, he flipped through the license quickly, then tucked it safely into his shirt pocket, pressing it gently against his chest.
"Let's head out. I've got a delivery run to make this afternoon," he said, all business as usual.
Three days after we got married, word of our marriage made its way all the way to the city's upper crust.
Mary ranted and gossiped in her private elite women's chat group. My former best friend Jessica Wright took a screenshot and sent it straight to me.
[Can you guess who Leah ended up marrying? A forty-year-old semi driver. Lives in a run-down unit right next to the freight yard—no proper heating, barely any basic utilities.]
A string of laughing emojis followed right underneath her words.
Someone commented:[Mary always said that girl was never good enough for their family.] Another chipped in: [Poor thing.] Someone else replied: [Poor? She brought this on herself.]
Ten minutes later, Rachel posted an update on her social media.
She uploaded a photo taken in the lush garden of the Carter Estate, with blooming roses all around her. Her caption read simply: [All I want this winter is someone to warm my hands.]
Jessica sent me the screenshot along with a cry-laugh emoji. [Leah, are you holding up okay?]
I typed back calmly: [I'm fine. Just busy.]
Busy. Really busy, I thought to myself.
The live feed comments laid out the full breakdown for me: Jack's old abandoned freight route crossed six separate land parcels. Three of them were thirty-year leases originally signed by his late father, with only seven months left before they expired.
Two more were lots Jack had rented for parking; their leases had already lapsed, and he'd never bothered renewing them. The last plot was community-owned land. Jack's freight company held the legal first right to renew the lease—yet he'd never acted on it.
Six parcels total.
Within three months, every single one would fall inside the official boundaries of the newly planned government development zone.
But if the leases expired and the usage rights slipped away, Jack would get zero compensation. We'd be locked out of that million-dollar windfall entirely.
I tracked Jack down with the full list of land parcels in hand. He was halfway under his semi, working on the brake system, most of his body hidden under the truck chassis.
"Jack?" I called out.
"Yep?" his muffled voice came from underneath.
"I need you to find those old land lease contracts your dad signed years ago."
I heard the clang of a wrench hitting metal as he tinkered.
"Second shelf of the cabinet, metal lockbox. Help yourself to the papers," Jack called back.
I rummaged through the box and found the yellowed, worn paper contracts.
Expiration date: three months and eleven days away.
We were cutting it close, but we still had time—if we renewed every lease right away.
Renewing wouldn't come cheap, though. Between base rent, security deposits, and administrative fees for all six parcels, we'd need at least ten thousand dollars upfront.
Jack's net annual income barely topped twenty thousand, after expenses.
That sum was nearly half his entire year's take-home pay.
I knelt beside the truck and waited for him to finish the repairs. When he finally crawled out from under the chassis, he wiped grease and grime off his face, then glanced at the stack of faded old contracts in my hands.
"What's all this about?" he asked.
"I want to renew the lease on every one of these six parcels."
Jack frowned, confused. "Why bother? That route's been dead for years. No trucks run through there anymore. It's just worthless empty land."
"Do you trust me?" I asked plainly.
He stood there holding his wrench, studying me quietly, not saying a word.
"It'll cost ten grand to renew all six leases. But three months from now, that ten thousand will turn into one hundred million. You in?"
"One hundred million?" Jack stared at me like I'd lost my mind. "Have you been drinking?"
"When have I ever joked about money?" I shot back without hesitation.
Jack held my gaze for a long moment, still silent.
The air reeked of motor oil and diesel fumes. Wind swept through the overgrown weeds of the abandoned lot next door, making the tall grass rustle loudly.
"The cash is in the nightstand drawer," Jack finally said, tossing his wrench into the metal toolbox. "Bank book's in there too. The PIN is six ones in a row."
I turned to leave.
He called my name before I could walk away. "Leah."
"Yeah?"
"If this blows up and we lose it all," he said, dead serious, his face still smudged with grease, "you're gonna have to ride along and help me haul freight for three months. Earn back every dollar we wasted on fuel and fees."
I looked back at him and smiled faintly.
"Deal."
The live comments scrolled across my screen: [He's choosing to trust you blindly. He has no idea he just locked in the biggest win of his life.]
The next morning, I withdrew ten thousand dollars in cash and headed to the town's municipal land office to file for lease renewals.
While waiting in line, I spotted a middle-aged man in a tailored suit standing ahead of me, also there to handle land contract paperwork.
He glanced over his shoulder and gave me a sharp, wary look.
The live feed suddenly flashed bright red across my screen: [That guy works directly for James Carter's company. They're already moving to buy up all the land in this exact zone.]
I tightened my grip on the stack of contracts in my hand, my mind sharpening instantly.