Chapter 1

I move into Emerald Bay to restore the plant specimens my mother leaves behind.

No one knows that the most exclusive lakefront community in the city is actually mine.

That changes when Monica Sullivan, the wife of the property management company's CEO, sets her sights on Lakeview Isle, the private island I built.

She wants to host her daughter's influencer-style wedding there, insisting that the island's glass greenhouse makes the perfect backdrop for their photos.

Desperate to curry favor with Edward Prescott, the CEO of the property management company, Victor Hayes, the property manager, shows up at my door with a forged resolution and demands that I hand over the keys.

Soon, the neighbors are calling me a kept woman in the group chat, claiming someone as young as me has no business owning a property that valuable.

I ignore them until they break into my house.

They destroy the plant specimens my mother leaves behind and pour red wine over her portrait.

Monica grabs my chin and sneers, "Here at the Emerald Bay, I decide who gets to live here."

I wipe the blood from my face and dial the number I haven't called in three years.

"Get the board online. You have ten minutes."

Then I look at Monice and smile.

"I'd like to know exactly when this property management company became the Prescott family's personal business."

Chapter 1

“Ms. Bennett, don't you think it's a waste for one person to live on such a huge private island?"

I had just finished pressing a black poplar leaf into my specimen book when my phone began buzzing nonstop.

In the Emerald Bay residents' group chat, a woman with a white poodle as her profile picture had tagged me.

Her name was Monica Sullivan, the wife of the property management company's CEO.

"My daughter's getting married next month, and she absolutely loves the glass greenhouse on your island. We're not asking to use it for free—we'll pay you 2,000 dollars for the venue," she wrote.

"Just hand the keys over to the property management office. We'll have the wedding planners go in and take care of everything.

"Don't worry. Your plants won't be touched."

I stared at the screen, confused.

2,000 dollars?

My island had never been part of Emerald Bay's original development. Along with its underground, climate-controlled storage facility and glass greenhouse, it had been carved out of the original development plans and independently appraised at 98 million dollars.

The greenhouse housed my mother's collection of plant specimens. Every single one was irreplaceable.

I replied simply, "Not available for rent."

The chat went silent for a few seconds.

Then Monice sent a voice message.

Her voice was sharp, like a key scraping against the glass.

"Ms. Bennett, aren't you being a little unreasonable? Neighbors are supposed to help each other, aren't they? Besides, you barely even use the place.

I typed back, "I use it every day."

"For what? Tending to your plants? Lounging in the sun? You're a young woman spending every day alone on a private island. Don't you ever worry about what people might think?"

Someone immediately chimed in.

"Monica's right. Community resources are meant to be shared.

"The island is part of Emerald Bay's scenery anyway. Why should one person keep it all to herself?"

Then, one of the residents, Brian Cooper, piled on. "Is she even the owner? I remember when she moved in. There wasn't even a man with her."

I tightened my grip around my phone until my knuckles turned white.

I hadn't been this angry over something so petty in years.

Really.

After leaving Skylark Holdings, I took a long break from everything. I buried myself in the life I actually wanted—quiet mornings at home, caring for my mother's collection, long cups of coffee, and feeding the fish by the water.

I had no interest in arguing with a bunch of bored neighbors.

So, I posted a photo of my property deed, carefully covering the identification number.

"The island is my private property, not a public attraction. Anyone who enters without my permission will be trespassing."

Monica replied with a smiling emoji.

"Oh, trying to scare everyone now?" she wrote.

"Ms. Bennett, surely you know how things work at Emerald Bay. The property management company has the authority to coordinate the use of shared spaces. Your island sits in the middle of the lake, significantly impacting the image of the entire community. You can't simply do whatever you want."

Property manager Victor Hayes joined the conversation.

Edward Prescott, the CEO of the property management company, was his boss, so of course he sided with Monica.

He was clearly trying to pressure me into giving in.

"Ms. Bennett, Mrs. Prescott's request is perfectly reasonable.

"Neighbors are supposed to share resources. Keeping an entire island to yourself for this long hardly seems fair to the other residents."

I stared at the message and laughed.

Keeping it to myself?

I was using my own property.

Monica added, "Mr. Hayes, arrange for someone to go measure the island tomorrow. My daughter hired a photographer with three million followers. We can't delay the schedule."

Victor replied immediately, "No problem, Mrs. Prescott. The property management office will fully cooperate."

I typed back, "Anyone who sets foot on my island without permission will be dealing with the police."

Monica immediately sent another voice message.

"The police? Who exactly are you trying to scare? My husband has the Chief of Police on speed dial. Who do you think they're going to listen to?

"Ms. Bennett, don't overestimate yourself. I'm only trying to negotiate because I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. But if I stop being patient with you, you may find it very difficult to live peacefully in this community."

The group exploded with agreement.

"Exactly. She's so selfish."

"People like her are the worst. They think money makes them better than anyone else."

Then Brian stirred things up further.

"She's young, single, and living alone. Who knows where her money even came from?"

Looking at the messages, I finally understood. They never intended to negotiate. They wanted my island. And to justify taking it, they had decided to paint me as a wealthy single woman with a suspicious source of income.

Monica was abusing her husband's position as the property management company's owner to take what wasn't hers. And a group of people was rushing to flatter her. It was disgusting.

I didn't bother wasting any more time with them.

"Mrs. Prescott, if anyone shows up without an invitation, I'll make sure they regret it."

Monica replied almost immediately. "Then keep your eyes open and watch me walk right in."

Chapter 2

At 9:00 am the next day, someone started hammering on my doorbell.

I checked the security feed.

Victor stood outside my door. Behind him were four guards in blue uniforms and two workers carrying surveying equipment.

He looked straight into the camera and smiled. "Ms. Bennett, we're here to carry out the property management company's resolution."

I didn't open the door.

"Leave the document outside."

Victor's expression hardened. "Ms. Bennett, if you refuse to cooperate, this is going to get ugly."

"The ugly part started when you showed up."

"Don't be so sure," he retorted.

He raised his hand and gestured toward the people behind him.

"We're just following the law."

"Which law?"

Victor pulled several pages from a folder and held them up to the camera.

"This is a supplemental amendment to Emerald Bay's homeowners' association rules. Lakeview Isle is designated as a shared scenic area for all residents. Any existing private-use rights are subject to the interests of the community."

I stared at the document in disbelief. "Who gave you the authority to change my property rights?"

"The property management company has that authority."

"Do you really think I don't know the law?"

Victor's expression darkened. "Ms. Bennett, there's no need to make this difficult. We're all neighbors here. I'm sure Mr. Prescott is willing to be reasonable."

"He's reasonable? So, he lets his wife take my property?"

The corner of Victor's mouth twitched.

He lowered his voice. "I'm giving you some friendly advice. The Prescott family has a lot of influence around here. Plenty of local officials will be at his daughter's wedding. If you back down now, we can all walk away with our dignity intact."

"I won't."

"Then the property management office will have no choice but to take enforcement action."

I looked at the screen. "Go ahead. I dare you."

Victor stepped aside and motioned to the guard. "To the back entrance."

I immediately pulled up Lakeview Isle's security feed on my phone.

On the screen, two guards were crossing the wooden bridge toward the island. A red light flashed above the electronic gate at the end of the bridge. My private security system. The property management company had no authority to access it.

Then, without warning, one of the workers pulled out a cutting tool. Sparks flew.

I shot to my feet.

"Victor, you're telling them to cut my gate?"

The man shrugged at the camera. "The system malfunctioned. We're just checking for any safety issues."

"That's called breaking in," I snapped.

"Ms. Bennett, there's no need to use such harsh language. Emerald Bay is a luxury community. Something like a break-in would never happen here."

His smug, self-righteous words sent me rushing out the door.

But when I reached the elevator, I found it stuck on the basement level.

The screen read, "Maintenance in Progress.

I jabbed the elevator button again and again.

Nothing happened.

The stairwell door was locked, too.

Then my phone rang.

Monica.

"Don't worry, Ms. Bennett." She chuckled. "Mr. Hayes said there was an issue with your elevator, so they're checking it out. Just stay inside and take it easy.”

"Monica Sullivan!"

"Can you hear the workers?" she asked casually. "The gates will be open soon."

"Do you even know what you're doing?"

"Of course, I do."

Her voice suddenly turned cold. "I'm teaching you how to get along with the residents of Emerald Bay."

On the security feed, the electronic gate was cut open.

One guard stepped inside. Another person raised a hand and covered the camera with black tape.

The screen went dark.

I stood frozen in front of the elevator, my heart racing.

Over the phone, Monica continued, "Don't worry. We'll make the island look beautiful for the wedding. As for those messy bottles and jars of yours, I'll have someone throw them away for you."

"Don't touch my specimens!"

"Ms. Bennett, they're just a few dead leaves. If anything gets damaged, I'll compensate you."

Then I heard voices in the background. "Mrs. Prescott, this cabinet is locked. Should we break it?"

Monica laughed. "Of course. It's ugly anyway."

The sound of shattering glass came through the phone.

Once.

Then again.

My throat tightened.

"Monica Sullivan, stop!"

She replied smugly, "Too late, Ms. Bennett."

Chapter 3

I ended up making my way down through the emergency stairwell.

The door had been chained shut from the outside. I kicked it six times before it finally gave way. My ankle was throbbing by then, but I barely noticed.

A cleaning lady passing by stopped in her tracks and stared at me in shock. "Ms. Bennett… Why are you coming out of here?"

"Who locked the door?"

She avoided my eyes. "I don't know. Mr. Hayes said there was an inspection today."

"An inspection that requires locking the owner inside?"

Her lips parted, but no words came out.

I stopped asking.

By the time I reached the lake, a bright red carpet had already been rolled across the bridge. The color was almost painfully vivid.

Two wedding planners were hauling a massive artificial flower arch toward the island. I walked toward them, only to be stopped by a security guard.

"Ms. Bennett, this is a restricted area. Please stay back."

I looked at his name tag.

"You're Daniel Brooks?"

He froze. "Yes."

"Do you know who this property belongs to?"

Daniel frowned. "The property management office told us the island has been rented by the boss."

"Move," I demanded.

"Ms. Bennett, don't make things difficult for us workers."

I shoved his arm away.

He grabbed my wrist, tightening his grip.

I gasped at the sudden pain.

"Let's go."

"Don't force your way in."

I raised my other hand to make a call when I saw Monica walk out of the greenhouse. She wore sunglasses and a beige designer suit and held a cup of coffee.

"Well. Look who finally made it down."

She glanced at my wrist.

"Daniel, be careful with her. Girls like her are delicate. She'll turn around and claim we were bullying her."

Daniel loosened his grip slightly. But he didn't let go.

My eyes went straight to the greenhouse. Broken wooden crates were piled at the entrance. The climate-controlled storage cabinets inside were open, their lights completely off. Glass shards covered the floor.

My mother's plant specimens had been trampled beneath the red carpet. Black poplar. Camellia. Metasequoia. Dove tree.

Her handwritten notes were soaked in coffee, the ink bleeding into dark stains.

For a few seconds, my mind went completely blank.

Monica followed my gaze. "Oh, those things? They were old and smelled musty. I had someone clean them out."

I walked over and crouched down, picking up a broken specimen sheet.

The label read: "Clara Bennett, 1997. Collected in Mount Midwest."

It was my mother's name.

Monica clicked her tongue. "Ms. Bennett, don't look so miserable. Weddings are supposed to be joyful. Your dried-up leaves are ruining the vibe."

I looked up.

"Those were my late mother's belongings."

She blinked, clearly caught off guard by my response. Then she laughed. "Even better. Things left behind by the dead should be cleared out anyway. You didn't seriously expect my daughter to get married next to a pile of dead plants, did you?"

I pressed the specimen paper against my chest.

My hands were shaking, not from fear, but from the overwhelming urge to wipe that smug look off her face.

Victor stepped forward, putting on his best mediator act. "Ms. Bennett, what's done is done. Making a scene isn't going to change anything. Mrs. Prescott is willing to compensate you."

"How much?"

Monica held up two fingers. "20 thousand."

I merely stared at her.

Apparently thinking I found it too little, she sighed. "Fine, 50 thousand, at most. Don't get greedy. Those scraps of paper aren't worth a fortune."

I stared at her coldly. "Monica, you can't afford the compensation for what you destroyed."

She slowly removed her sunglasses, the smile fading from her face. "Are you threatening me?"

"Restore everything you destroyed. Then get down on your knees and apologize. If you do that, I might consider not pressing charges."

She laughed as if I'd just told her a joke. "Press charges? Go ahead. What, do you think you own the courts?"

Victor chimed in, "Ms. Bennett, I should remind you that you're disrupting construction and interfering with a community event. We can call the police and have you removed."

"Call them." I held my phone out to him. "Do it now."

Victor didn't take it.

Monice stepped closer, locking her gaze on my face. "Do you really think you're better than everyone else? You live in the most expensive unit in the community, never show up for a single event, and talk to everyone in the group chat like you're above them.

"I've seen women like you before. Acting all innocent and self-righteous.

"You couldn't afford anything here. Do you honestly expect us to believe you got this place without a man's help?"

Several workers nearby turned to look.

Monica raised her voice. "Tell us, then. You're so young. Where did you get the money to buy a unit in Emerald Bay? Do you own a company? Do you have a husband? What do your parents do"

I stood up.

"Shut up!"

She raised her hand and slapped me across the face.

My head snapped to the side from the impact. I tasted blood.

Daniel was still holding my wrist.

Monica leaned closer, lowering her voice just enough to sound threatening—but loud enough for everyone nearby to hear. "Here at Emerald Bay, I decide who gets to live here."

I turned to face her.

My phone slipped from one hand into another. The screen was already lit. The call had connected.

A man's uncertain voice came through. "Ms. Bennett? The chairman?"

Monica looked caught off guard.

I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth.

"Notice the board. I want everyone online within ten minutes."

There was a pause at the end.

"Which level of authority do you want to activate?"

I looked at the ruined specimens scattered across the ground. "The highest level."

Chapter 4

Monica froze for two seconds before laughing. "The chairman? Wow. You really committed to the act."

Victor frowned at me. "Ms. Bennett, you're clearly not in the right state of mind. I suggest you go home and rest."

I ignored him and spoke into the phone, "Marcus, pull up the original ownership documents, the property management agreement, and all registration records for the Emerald Bay project."

"Already on it. The legal team and security teams will be there in ten minutes."

I glanced at Daniel. His hand was still gripping my wrist.

"Bring weapons, too."

Daniel immediately released me, suddenly realizing what I meant.

Monica's expression hardened.

"Who do you think you're scaring? Making a few phone calls doesn't make you the boss."

Victor pulled her aside and lowered his voice. "Mrs. Prescott, she might actually know someone."

Monica glared at him. "What are you so afraid of? Everyone knows Emerald Bay belongs to Whitmore Properties. What could a young girl like her possibly do?"

"But she mentioned ownership documents…"

"She's bluffing." Monica sneered. "Young people these days love putting on a show. One phone call, and suddenly she's throwing around words like 'board of directors.' If she were really the chairman, do you think she would've just sat there and taken all those insults in the residents' group?"

Seeing me remain silent, Monica seemed convinced she had the upper hand.

"Ms. Bennett, I'll give you one last chance. Apologize now. Admit that Lakeview Isle is a public area, and I'll have Mr. Hayes drop the charges against you for disrupting the construction.

"You'll also post a statement in the residents' group saying that you willingly supported my daughter's wedding and thanking the property management company for arranging everything."

"And?" I asked.

"You'll pay the island's cleanup costs yourself. Our wedding crew was delayed by half an hour, so you'll cover those losses, too."

I looked up at her. "How much?"

Monice crossed her arms. "300 thousand dollars. I'm being generous. We're neighbors, after all."

I nodded. "Noted."

Victor's patience ran out. "Ms. Bennett, stop being sarcastic. Mrs. Prescott has already been more than reasonable."

"I gave you chances, too."

What chances?"

I stood up.

"I already gave them to you. Before you cut the gate lock. Before you blocked the fire exit today. And before you let your security guards put their hands on me."

Victor's face darkened. "Don't make accusations without proof."

"The security cameras are everywhere."

He sneered. "The Lakeview Isle security system malfunctioned. The property cameras are under maintenance."

"What a coincidence," I scoffed. "Just my luck."

Monica laughed again. "Aren't you always going on about security footage? Go ahead. Get it. There are no cameras and no witnesses. Who's going to prove I slapped you?"

The nearby workers turned their heads away.

Daniel avoided eye contact, too.

I scanned the group.

No one spoke. Fabulous.

A black luxury SUV suddenly screeched to a stop by the lake. Six people in dark gray suits stepped out. Leading them was Marcus Morgan.

He looked thinner than he had three years ago, but the coldness in his eyes remained unchanged.

He walked toward me. The moment he saw my face, he froze. "Who did this?"

Monica looked him up and down. "Who are you supposed to be?"

Marcus ignored him.

He handed me a document folder. "Ms. Bennett, the board is already online. Whitmore Properties' chairman, Richard Whitmore, is on his way. He'll arrive in about 15 minutes."

Victor's face instantly went pale.

Monica frowned. "Richard Whitmore? You mean that Richard Whitmore from Whitmore Properties?"

Marcus finally turned to her. "Mrs. Prescott, Emerald Bay was developed by Whitmore Properties. 62% of Whitmore Properties is owned by Skylark Holdings, and Ms. Cecilia Bennett is the controlling shareholder of Skylark Holdings."

Edward's property management company was nothing more than a minor subsidiary of Whitmore Properties.

Monica's mouth fell open, her expression blank with disbelief.

Then she burst out laughing even louder.

"You people are really creative. The controlling shareholder? If she's the boss, then I'm the mayor's wife."

I opened the folder and pulled out the first document, handing it to Victor. "Article 17 of the property management agreement. Read it carefully."

Victor didn't take it.

So, Marcus read it out loud. "If the property management company fabricates owner resolutions, infringes upon independent property rights, or damages an owner's assets, the client reserves the right to immediately terminate the contract and pursue full compensation."

Victor swallowed hard.

At that moment, Monica's phone rang.

She glanced at the caller ID, looking annoyed.

"Edward, why are you calling? I'm busy."

A trembling male voice came from the other end. "Monica… Are you at Lakeview Isle?"

Monica rolled her eyes. "Yes. So what?"

"Stop immediately! Apologize to Ms. Bennett right now!"

She froze. "What did you say?"

"Mr. Whitmore from Whitmore Properties just called me. He said we forged property management company resolutions and illegally occupied the private property of Skylark Holdings' actual head. Who exactly did you offend?"