“Signed by who?” I asked, snatching the map out of his hand. “My stepfather doesn’t have the legal authority to authorize this.”

“Actually, he does,” Dorian’s voice called out from behind me on the trail.

He had followed me up the ridge, his face red from the climb, his eyes gleaming with triumph.

“Your mother gave me full power of attorney yesterday,” Dorian said, stepping into the clearing.

“We filed the emergency variance this morning. By nine tomorrow, this land is open for sale.”

“My father’s trust explicitly forbids any alteration of these lines,” I said, my voice steady.

“The trust is just a piece of paper,” Dorian said, taking a step toward the workmen.

“Keep digging, boys,” Dorian ordered. “We’re on a tight schedule here.”

The excavator operator restarted the engine, the heavy metal bucket scraping against the stone marker.

“If you touch that stone, I will have you arrested for federal land fraud,” I warned the operator.

The operator hesitated, looking at Dorian, then back at me.

“She’s bluffing,” Dorian hissed, his fists clenching at his sides. “I’m the one paying you.”