Jayce's POV
I watched as the old couple scrambled away, the woman tripping as she reached for her husband, whose frail arms could barely support her. It took a whole messy scene before they finally left. Only Steve remained behind.
He clutched his tablet like his life depended on it, struggling to maintain a professional exterior. “Mr. Fletcher, she’s really selling the house. I don’t know what else to say.”
“She’s just bluffing,” I said, trying to convince myself more than him. “There’s no way she’s selling the house. This is her sweat.”
“She visited our office yesterday—”
“This must be a trick. She paid you to trick me, right?”
Steve frowned. “Sir?”
“Don’t lie to me.” I pointed toward the exit. “She paid those old people to come here and put on a show with you, right? Well, go bac
