Page 101 of Babies for the Christmas Grump
The sharp buzz of my phone slices through the silence, a jolt to my already overworked mind. I glance at the screen, my heart racing for just a beat longer than it should.
Marco. Of course.
I swipe the screen and press it to my ear, though there’s a fire already burning in my chest. “Talk to me.”
“I’ve got something,” Marco says, his tone precise, almost too calm for the intensity of the situation. “I’ve been digging into Lang’s history, like you asked. This guy’s got a pattern.”
I lean forward, my fingers tightening around the edge of the desk. “What pattern?”
“Lang has done this before,” Marco continues, his words clicking into place in my mind. “I’ve found a trail. Back in the early 2010s, he pulled the same stunt at a hotel in Providence. The Crescent Harbor. It was a decent-sized boutique hotel, not unlike The Garland Rose. They were struggling, operating at a loss for a few years, and then, it got a lot worse. Nothing that looked too out of the ordinary on paper, but everything was smoke and mirrors. I dug deeper, Ryder. He created a mess of unpaid debts, inflated expenses, and falsified service contracts. He even set up fake vendors, funneled money to offshore accounts.”
I close my eyes for a moment, trying to hold it together. This is textbook corporate sabotage.
“So, what happened?” I ask, more clipped than I intended.
“Lang essentially forced them into bankruptcy. The hotel was sold under duress for pennies on the dollar. He swooped in with a shell company he’d set up under a fake name, called it Harbor Investments, and purchased the property for a fraction of what it was worth. And here’s the kicker: He didn’t even keep it as a hotel. He converted it into luxury condos. Sold each unit for nearly three times what he’d paid for the whole building, and then he flipped the remaining space into high-end retail. Made a killing.”
I’m silent for a moment, processing the enormity of it all. Lang didn’t just want money. He tried to control assets. To own them. To bend entire industries to his will.
“That bastard,” I mutter under my breath, gripping the edge of my desk because it’s the only thing keeping me grounded.
“I’m not done yet,” Marco presses on, and I brace myself. “The most interesting part is how he timed it. The hotel had debts in the millions. Some of it was legitimate, but Lang’s shell companies inflated a lot. There were contractor fees and vendor invoices. Everything from landscaping to plumbing. They were all real businesses, but Lang’s been using them to siphon cash out of these hotels for years. He strings them along, gets them to keep doing work, then fails to pay or delays payment, forcing the business into the red. Once he’s pushed them into financial collapse, he buys them out cheap.”
I’m already calculating in my head. Providence is just one example, but if Lang has been doing this for years, there’s no telling how many properties he has lined his pockets with.
“How many more?” I ask.
“I’m still going through the records, but it’s looking like he’s been involved with at least five different properties in the last fifteen years. Same playbook every time. Pump up debts. Push for liquidation. Buy low, sell high.”
I take a deep breath, my mind now focused on the only thing that matters: how this ties to The Garland Rose.
“So, what does this mean for us?” I ask, the urgency in my gut rising. “What’s his next move?”
Marco hesitates. “I know you’ve been getting the legal threats from his attorneys—I saw your email this morning—but I’ve got intel that he’s about to escalate things. His legal team. They’re a group of sharks, high-end corporate lawyers. Fletcher and Bain. These guys are known for dragging things out for years. Flooding the system with motions, discovery demands, the whole nine yards. They’ll tie you up in litigation until the hotel crumbles under the weight of their legal fees.”
I grit my teeth, leaning forward. “He’s going to try to bankrupt us.”
“Exactly,” Marco says, grimly. “He’s going to push harder now that he knows you’re standing your ground. You’re not just dealing with Lang anymore. You’re dealing with his network. These lawyers will make The Garland Rose’s survival look impossible. You’ll be tied up in court, bogged down by endless legal battles. And when it’s all over, he’ll pick up the pieces, buy the place cheap, and flip it. It’s his M.O.”
I swallow hard.
Shit.
“I need to meet you,” I say quickly. “Now. I don’t care where. Bring everything you’ve got. Every damn detail. The numbers, the connections, everything. We need to get ahead of this. Meet me at my place.”
“On my way,” Marco replies, already fading out as he hangs up.
I drop my phone onto the desk and look at the screen again. The numbers swirl in front of me, but they don’t seem as intimidating now.
This isn’t about bookkeeping. This is a war. Lang has made it personal from the moment he tried to destroy Evie’s legacy, and now, I’m going to burn his empire to the ground.
I grab my coat, throwing it over my shoulder as I head for the door.
“Whatever Lang’s got planned next, he’s going to regret it,” I mutter to myself.
I walk out of my office, my mind still racing through the new intel Marco just dropped on me. Lang isn’t just an obstacle anymore. He’s the storm, and I’m stuck in the middle of it, fighting to stay afloat.
But as I pass the hotel’s grand staircase, something pulls my attention away from the distraction brewing in my head.
