Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Nathaniel

T he sun has already set by several hours by the time the construction crew packs up the tools for the night. We've been pulling long days to complete as much work as possible so that we can make our summer grand opening.

A gentle breeze carries the scent of fresh-cut wood and earth as I survey the progress of the cabins. It mixes with the faint hint of diesel from the heavy equipment. My heart swells with pride at the thought of our resort finally coming to life, a legacy for my pack and our future generations.

I imagine families enjoying their time here, feeling secure and cared for within these walls we're building. Financial freedom is nearly within our reach, and the promise of a haven for us to grow is worth every drop of sweat and effort we've poured into this project.

"Evening, Nathaniel," Emily Wilson, the superintendent, calls out as she strides toward me. Her steel gray hair gleams in the floodlights around the site, and her powerful thighs flex with each step.

"Emily." I nod in acknowledgment, tearing my gaze away from the structures before us.

"Walls are up and floors should be down on the two-bedroom and three-bedroom cabins tomorrow, with kitchen and bath going in next week. Painting on the single room units will be done by Friday." A satisfied smile spreads over her lips, crinkling the corners of her eyes. "That means we're on schedule for the summer opening, as long as the weather stays calm. We've been blessed by a mild spring."

A surge of relief floods through me, the assurance that we'll meet our deadline settling my nerves. The sooner we can open our doors to more guests, the faster we can pay back the loans hanging over us. "That's great news. Thank you."

"Of course." She stands next to me, hands on her hips as she takes in the progress from up here, the frames of the cabins moving steadily toward completion. "It's been a pleasure working with you and your pack on this project."

"Likewise," I say, gratitude coloring my voice. "Your expertise has been invaluable."

Blake's dad was the foreman on all of my father's projects and, as a result, Blake and I grew up on job sites together. But taking on such a massive endeavor by ourselves is a whole other beast. We were thrilled to add Emily's years of knowledge and experience to our team, and she's saved our asses more than once from making a rookie mistake.

"Pray that Mother Nature continues to be on our side." She thumps me on the back hard enough to make me wince.

"How's the progress coming along on the fitness center and spa?" We plan to have an indoor pool, track, exercise room, yoga studio, sauna, and massage tables to make this a true luxury resort.

While the fitness center/spa is part of phase two, we need to prep the areas now. They'll be on the other end of the island, so the construction won't be an eyesore for the guests who rent this summer and fall. Depending on how well we do, phase three will add more cabins on the western side, too.

Emily flips through the pages on her clipboard. "We've started digging the foundation for it and clearing the land for the nine-hole golf course, but you'll have to talk to Blake about the plans. From what I hear, Dominic's still making changes to the layout."

"Of course he is." I run a hand through my hair. Dominic's perfectionism streak has been both a blessing and a curse throughout this project. He's elevated our designs to new heights but has also slowed things down more than once. "I'll catch up with him later and force him to sign off on it."

Emily chuckles, shaking her head. "Architects, huh? Can't live with 'em, can't build without 'em."

"Tell me about it."

We share a knowing smile. The camaraderie that's formed between us over the past two years has made working together a true pleasure.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, pulling me from the moment. When I glance at the screen, the sight of my father's name sends a shiver down my spine.

I glance at Emily. "Sorry, I have to take this. Thanks for the update."

"Of course. Have a good night." With a nod, she heads back to her responsibilities.

Gravel crunches beneath my boots as I step away from the construction site, distancing myself from the noise. Dread twists my insides at the thought of speaking to my father, but I can't avoid him forever.

I press the answer button and lift the phone to my ear, my voice betraying none of the tension that courses through me. "Hello, Father."

"Nathaniel, you haven't sent in this week's status report. Are you on schedule?" His cold tone holds a familiar, calculated edge that says he's already gathering ammunition for a fight.

"Everything is progressing smoothly. My superintendent confirmed we're on track for a summer opening," I reply, attempting to infuse the words with confidence.

While I'm an adult now, my father still knows exactly how to make me feel like a child again.

"Good. What about the fitness center and spa? Will they be ready?" he inquires, his tone laced with a subtle challenge.

"It's still scheduled to open next year." This is a point of contention between me and my father, and I don't want to have this argument again.

"You should finish it before you launch," he barks, and my shoulders hunch in self-defense. "You need to put your best foot forward when you open your doors, not do a half-assed job with promises for improvements later."

"Pushing to complete it now will stress our finances and push our timeline." My hand tightens on my phone. "Besides, we don't even have the final design finished. There are still details to work out."

"Details? What kind of details?" My father's voice sharpens, seizing on any perceived weakness.

"Nothing major, just some adjustments to the layout. We want everything to be perfect for our guests." I grit my teeth, regretting that I tried to justify our plan.

It's solid, I know it is, but my father makes me question my competence to carry this to completion.

"Perfection takes time, funds, and resources, Nathaniel. You do remember that it's my money making this project possible, don't you?"

Even though I was waiting for it, the reminder hits me like a slap in the face, stinging and humiliating.

"Of course, Father. I'm grateful for your investment, and I'm doing everything in my power to ensure it pays off," I say, keeping any hint of defiance from my voice.

"See that you do." The unspoken threat hangs heavy between us. "You wouldn't want to disappoint me, now would you?"

My throat tightens. "Never, Father."

The call ends with a click, leaving me standing in the chilly night air, feeling smaller and more vulnerable than ever.

Despite the progress we've made and the bright future that's so close, my father's shadow looms over me, darkening even the most promising of days. The weight of his expectations threatens to crush me, but I refuse to let that happen. He may have financed my first project, but this resort is for my pack, my chosen family.

He hadn't been happy when I bonded with Blake, Holden, and Dominic in university. He had expected me to stay within the Burton pack to grow their numbers. And Blake was supposed to remain in the Harrison pack, continuing our families' tradition of real estate tycoon and support staff.

When he gave us the loan to make our dream a reality, it came with a steep stipulation. If we fail, our bond will be dissolved, and Blake and I will have to return to our pack families. Everything rides on making our summer deadline for phase one. No matter how much my father pushes, we have to stick to the plan, not overstretch our resources, and not get distracted.

Our future together depends on it.

As I take the longer way home, the night air cools the frustration and anger always brought on by any interaction with my father. Not even moving to an island was far enough to escape his judgment.

I blow out a long breath and follow the winding path that leads past the cabin being rented out.

The scent of pine and damp earth fills my nostrils, conjuring images of summers spent with my mother here. Every summer and school break, we escaped my father's overbearing presence to find solace in the serenity of Misty Pines. Together, we'd spend our days fishing and hiking, forging memories that would have to last a lifetime after she passed away.

The island had belonged to her family, and when she died, she left it to me as my inheritance. My father had been enraged to learn he wouldn't get his hands on the prime piece of property.

Peace washes over me as I approach the cabin. It's the original that we based all the other single-room cabins on. We'd decided to do a soft opening with a single renter to serve as a test run. For a discounted rate, we'll receive a detailed summary of what they did and didn't like about the resort and the services we provided.

A lot hinges on our renter's satisfaction.

My pace slows as I take in the warm, inviting light spilling from the cabin. A flicker of movement catches my eye, and I pause, watching as a shadow passes in front of the curtain-covered window. Hopefully, they're enjoying their stay so far, and their review will bring more business to the island and validate our efforts.

With a jolt, I realize I've been standing here too long, lingering like some kind of stalker, and hurry away. The last thing we need to do is to scare off our guest or create a complication that jeopardizes the success of our resort.