From His Fake Wife to Billionaire Heiress Chapter 220: A Counterargument

Right at that delicate moment, Riley shifted gears and smoothly took control of the conversation.

"Mr. Edwards," she began casually, "since we're practically old acquaintances at this point, let me offer you some friendly advice...

"You might want to steer clear of the Cedar Creek project yourself."

The playful glint vanished from Brandon's expression.

His face grew serious. He narrowed his usually charming eyes and asked in a low tone, "What are you getting at?"

The atmosphere in the private room seemed to grow heavier all at once.

But Riley didn't flinch. She didn't even look away from his cooled stare.

Calmly, she laid out her reasoning.

"What I mean is straightforward.

"Mr. Edwards, I'll acknowledge that coming from Cedar Creek clears a lot of red tape for you. That's a natural edge no outside developer can match."

Then her tone shifted, turning sharper.

"But if we're speaking strictly business, that same background is both your biggest advantage and potentially... your most critical vulnerability.

"Let's not forget—Cedar Creek isn't some remote, disconnected mountain town. From what I've gathered these past few days, more than half the households here have kids or relatives running businesses over in the Havenbrook area. Their operations might not be huge, but they've been in the game their whole lives. They understand how business works better than most. And in their eyes, this hometown you're looking to develop isn't just land—it's a goldmine.

"Once breaking ground begins—you, the local boy who made it big out in the world, coming back in glory to invest—what do you think will happen?

"At first, sure, there'll be cheers and applause. But it won't be long before all sorts of folks come knocking.

"One day, it'll be your granduncle, who watched you grow up, showing up with his son who runs an excavation crew, hoping to land the earthmoving contract.

"The next day, some childhood friend will stop by with his cousin who sells construction supplies, expecting you to source your cement and steel through him.

"Then the day after that, a string of so-called relatives you've barely even heard of...

"Mr. Edwards, maybe you can hold your ground and turn down one person. Or even ten. But when the whole community gets it in their head that these opportunities shouldn't go to outsiders—and they start using family ties and neighborhood bonds like moral leverage to pressure you—can you really say no to everyone?

"And even if you could... what about your parents? They still live here. The people you turn away will go straight to them, pouring their hearts out, stirring up guilt. Older folks tend to be soft-hearted; they care about longstanding relationships. Are you really going to let them endure all that neighborly side-talk and judgment just because of your project?"

Brandon's earlier excuse about being a devoted son—the shield he'd used so smoothly—had now become Riley's sharpest point of attack.

"In the end, what will this project turn into? To keep the peace, you'll end up making compromises. Contractor A, supplier B, relative C... We've seen it happen plenty of times around here. A flagship project meant to uplift the hometown ends up half-baked, full of shortcuts and safety issues, all because personal connections got tangled up in the works. Mr. Edwards, is that really the outcome you want?"

She laid it all out, step by step, leaving Brandon almost no room to push back.

The frost in Brandon's expression slowly began to thaw.

Not only had Riley seen through his entire plan in just a few days—she'd pinpointed the most hidden risks within it with startling clarity.

That kind of insight went far beyond your average business mind.

After a long pause, Brandon finally let out a slow breath and gave a somewhat rueful laugh.

"Ms. Harper... I've got to say, what you just laid out gives me a whole new level of respect for you."

He admitted that her warnings weren't just empty talk.

"Everything you mentioned—it's not like I haven't thought about it before.

"I just figured with my experience, I could keep those risks in check. And besides..." he added, "people in our community have always been pretty tight-knit."

When Riley heard "tight-knit," her smile deepened.

"Mr. Edwards, when everyone's on the same starting line, banding together against an outside challenge—that's real unity.

"But the moment they realize you've raced ahead alone and are about to claim the lion's share of what this land is worth... that's when unity can twist into the ugliest kind of envy. You really think they'll be happy just watching you succeed?

"'It's not about scarcity—it's about fairness.' I'm sure you understand that better than I do, Mr. Edwards."

Brandon fell silent.

Because what Riley had just said was the truth he'd been trying to cover over with his own confidence.

It reminded him of something. Back when he'd finished college, why had he walked away from the traditional industries his family connections could easily have handed him—and plunged into the far riskier world of media and entertainment instead?

Wasn't it precisely because he'd seen how tangled those old-school networks could get?

He'd always hated that feeling—that no matter what call he made, he'd be tugged in endless directions by stakeholders linked through family or friendship.