Bound By A Broken Night novel Chapter 13

“Won’t we go bankrupt with all of this?” Zandrie asked, staring at the stack of documents in his hands.

“Free housing projects. Free education for their children. Free hospitalization. Food allowances…”

He looked up at Cassidy, eyes wide with disbelief. “Are you serious?”

Cassidy lifted her gaze from the glowing screen of her MacBook, a soft, knowing smile curving her lips.

“It’s an investment,” she replied calmly. “And it won’t take long before we start reaping the returns.”

Three months had passed since they signed their agreement–three unexpectedly fruitful months of marriage.

She leaned back into her cushioned chair, shifting slightly to ease the weight of her nine–month baby bump. Her breathing was shallow now, but steady.

“All the projects are already in motion,” she continued. “And the farmers are beginning to feel the change.”

She tapped a few keys, pulling up another report.

“Those who left have started reaching out to Mr. Sanchez,” she added. “They’re asking if they can come back.”

Zandrie frowned. “You’re trying to keep them.”

“Exactly,” Cassidy nodded. “Retention is the goal.”

She straightened, her tone sharpening into something deliberate and precise.

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“To keep our farmers, we need to remove the uncertainties that drain them,” she explained.” Harvests are unpredictable, so they worry constantly about their children’s future. We eliminate that fear by giving their children certainty–education, stability.”

She gestured to the next section of the report.

“Many of them live in cramped rentals where their wages barely cover food and rent. So we take that burden away. Housing security brings peace of mind.”

Her finger slid further down the page.

“And health,” she added. “Most farmers avoid medical consultations because they’re expensive. By the time they seek help, it’s already too late.”

She met Zandrie’s gaze steadily.

“So we provide free medical care. And soon, we’ll build our own hospital–one dedicated solely to

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serving them.”

Silence followed as Zandrie absorbed her words.

“This isn’t charity,” Cassidy said quietly. “It’s infrastructure. Loyalty. Productivity.”

She closed the laptop with a gentle click.

“When people are taken care of,” she finished, “they take care of what belongs to you.”

Zandrie looked back down at the documents–then up at her again.

For the first time, he wasn’t just seeing a strategist. He was witnessing the birth of a legacy.

“You’re crazy…” he muttered, then shook his head with a breathless laugh. “Crazy brilliant, Cassidy Greene.”

He studied her with open admiration.

“I never expected you to understand the farmers better than we do. My mother’s family has been in this business for decades–and not one of us saw these issues clearly. We thought we were already generous enough, yet they kept leaving.”

“Well,” Cassidy said softly, a wistful smile touching her lips, “my mother was a maid.”

She met his gaze.

“And I was treated like one. I know how heavy burdens feel when you carry them every day.”

Zandrie fell silent, staring at her longer than necessary.

“What would you have done,” he asked slowly, “if I hadn’t agreed?”

“I would’ve left Savannah City,” she replied calmly. “Left the country. Found another prospect.”

There was no bitterness in her tone–only certainty.

“I won’t stop until I get what I need,” she added, her gaze drifting briefly to nowhere.

“And the father of your unborn child?” he pressed, surprised at his own curiosity. He’d never cared much about anyone else’s life–but Cassidy had become a puzzle he couldn’t ignore.

“He hates me,” she answered without hesitation.

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