From His Fake Wife to Billionaire Heiress Chapter 208: Heritage Twist

But after all, she had been Aiden's right-hand woman for years. Once the initial shock wore off, she made herself take a deep breath and think logically.

"Maybe... Riley, you know Cedar Creek was always known as a well-off community. Most families there had deep roots and money. It's not impossible that a few of them are seriously connected.

"Maybe it's not about the money. Maybe it's just... some of the older residents don't want to leave. They don't want a big resort changing the character of the place."

It still felt like a stretch, but for now, it was the only explanation that made any sense.

Just as she finished speaking, Calvin's phone buzzed loudly.

He glanced at the screen, frowned, and held up a finger to Riley and Anne before stepping out into the hallway to take the call.

Through the glass partition, Riley watched his usual professional demeanor shift—within moments, his expression turned tense and serious.

A few minutes later, Calvin ended the call and pushed back into the room.

He took a slow breath, like he was steadying himself after bad news.

"What is it?" Anne pressed immediately.

Calvin looked at Riley, his voice lower now. "That was headquarters. They just got an official notice from the town council of Cedar Creek.

"The council says the old community hall is a historic structure—over a century old. According to a new preservation review, it's now protected under local heritage laws. It can't be altered or demolished in any way. They're suggesting we find another site."

"What?" Anne was the first to snap.

"Heritage protection? We went through every historical record and zoning file before breaking ground! There was nothing about this! They can't just declare it historic out of nowhere—this is a shakedown!"

This was worse than a couple of holdouts.

If stubborn residents could still be worn down with time and negotiation, a "protected historic site" was a death sentence for the whole project.

The millions already invested, the months of surveys and planning—all of it, gone.

This wasn't just a financial hit. It was a major blow to Quinn Group's reputation.

Anne paced angrily, unable to hold back. "What is with these people? First the protests, now this 'historic hall'—are they trying to bury this project for good?"

While Anne and Calvin fumed, Riley stayed unusually still.

She leaned back in her chair, her clear eyes narrowing just slightly.

First the organized pushback from the residents, now a century-old building suddenly declared untouchable.

On the surface, they seemed unrelated. But the timing—one right after the other—felt too perfect.

Almost like a carefully staged play.

"Doesn't this... feel like someone's pulling strings behind the scenes? Pushing us into a corner. Like they've got advice from someone who knows how this game is played."

Anne and Calvin exchanged a look, both frowning.

"Riley, what are you saying—" Anne began.

But just then, the office door swung open.

"Fresh cinnamon rolls and coffee, everybody! Get 'em while they're hot!"

Harvey walked in with a cheerful grin, as if he hadn't noticed the tension in the room at all.

Riley glanced his way, the sharpness in her gaze fading back into calm.

"Let's eat first," she said evenly.

They gathered around the table, though Anne could barely sit still. She finished a roll in two bites, then couldn't help asking again, "Riley, what did you mean before? Who would be working against us behind our backs?"

Riley took a sip of warm coffee, letting the pieces in her mind settle.

She didn't answer directly, just shook her head. "It's just a guess right now. No proof. We should wait and see. Maybe... we're overthinking it."

Seeing she didn't want to say more, Anne and Calvin dropped it for the moment.

After a quick breakfast, Riley stood up.

"Let's go. I want to see this so-called historic hall for myself."

Sitting around speculating wouldn't help. Answers were out there, on the ground.

The three of them headed toward the center of Cedar Creek.

When they reached the old community hall, they found a small makeshift stage had been set up in front of it. Music was playing—live folk tunes, a fiddle and a guitar carrying over the chatter.

A few local performers were onstage, dressed in traditional rustic wear, singing an old ballad in harmonious twang.

The open lawn was packed with residents watching and clapping along, clearly enjoying the show.

The song was building toward its climax—a lively, foot-stomping finale.

Riley and the others lingered at the back of the crowd, taking in the scene, feeling suddenly out of place.

They shared a quiet look and stayed where they were, blending into the edges of the gathering.

With the whole town caught up in what felt like a community celebration, now was not the time for outsiders to march up and start talking about relocation. It would only pour gasoline on the fire and make their already difficult position even worse.

Riley's gaze drifted from the weathered community hall to the vibrant performance on the stage, her thoughts turning quietly beneath the music.