Chapter 1

The news hit Redwood Creek Brewery like a rogue wave, fast and unavoidable.

Olivia, my fiancée of seven years, the CEO of the company I built from scratch, was pregnant.

And she was marrying Mark.

Mark, her old college boyfriend, the guy she' d sighed about, the one who' d "gotten away."

He' d been our Chief Operations Officer for all of three months.

Everyone in the brewery whispered, their eyes flicking to me, Ethan, the Head Brewer, the original founder.

They expected me to shatter.

I kept my face a blank wall, my focus locked on the hops contract spread across my small metal desk.

This contract was vital, the brewery was bleeding money, and Olivia, in her new maternal glow, didn' t seem to notice or care.

The baby, Mark' s baby, was born a week ago, a boy.

Olivia had called me, her voice syrupy sweet.

"Ethan, darling, you can stay on, of course. Keep making money for me and the baby. We' ll need it."

Her condescension was a familiar sting.

I' d grunted a noncommittal reply.

She didn' t know that next week, I was taking back everything.

Redwood Creek Brewery was mine. I started it with my grandfather' s inheritance and a dream.

I' d poured my life into it, every recipe, every late night.

When Olivia and I got serious, I wanted her to feel like a true partner, not just my girlfriend hanging around the business.

So, I gifted her 51% of the shares, made her CEO.

It was a gesture of love, of trust.

A trust she' d taken and ground into the dirt with Mark' s arrival.

He was charismatic, I' d give him that, and Olivia had been like a moth to his flame from the moment he interviewed.

Now, they were a family, and I was just the guy who made the beer.

Or so they thought.

The hops supplier, a crucial one, was waffling. I needed to secure this deal, or our production schedule would be a disaster.

My personal life was a wreck, but the brewery, my brewery, wouldn' t fail because of it.

Not if I could help it.

And I could.

The notarized share transfer agreement, signed by Olivia months ago, sat in my safe deposit box.

She thought it was a formality, some papers for a business loan I was supposedly arranging to expand operations.

A loan that would, in her mind, further enrich her and Mark.

She' d signed it without a second glance, eager for me to leave on that extended "business development trip" she' d pushed so hard for.

A trip designed to get me out of the picture while she solidified her new life with Mark.

The irony wasn't lost on me.

Next week, the document would be filed.

Next week, Redwood Creek Brewery would officially be mine again, 91% mine.

They had no idea what was coming.