3

I called the police. An officer, Sergeant Briggs, got there fast.

I thought the law would teach these lunatics a lesson.

David slung an arm around the sergeant's shoulders like they were old friends, said something I couldn't hear, and slipped something into his pocket.

Sergeant Briggs didn't even come into the yard to look. He just talked to me through the welded gate.

"Ma'am, this is a dispute between neighbors. Nobody's hurt, nobody's dead. The police can't help you. Go get a lawyer."

I looked at the wreckage everywhere, shaking.

"They destroyed tens of millions of dollars' worth of research samples, and you call that a dispute between neighbors?"

The sergeant's face hardened, like I'd said something absurd.

"Listen, girl. Mr. Miller is about to be vice president of Vaughn Realty, and he runs this whole estate. Don't make trouble, or I'll lock you up tonight."

I pulled out my ID and handed it over.

"Here's my ID. I'm formally asking you to open a case for malicious destruction of property."

He glanced down. When he read the name Stirling, he froze.

David didn't care. He threw an arm around the sergeant's shoulders again. "We get a lot of crazy thieves around here claiming they own the place. Don't let them fool you."

The sergeant patted the cash David had given him, nodded, and tossed my ID aside.

"Running a scam with a fake ID will land you in jail."

The police car pulled away to the sound of David laughing.

David spat at me. "Hear that? Around here, you're whoever I say you are."

Smug, entitled parasites, all of them.

I walked back into the middle of the ruins and, very carefully, picked up a crushed stem.

Four years earlier, on his deathbed, my father had watched news footage of drought refugees in Africa.

"We've made enough money. Develop seeds that will grow in dry soil so people won't starve."

Those were the last words he ever said to me.

I'd worked this hard to honor my father's last wish.

...

I opened my encrypted work terminal.

On the Vaughn Realty vice president appointment screen, David Miller's file was waiting for my final approval.

As long as I said no, he'd never reach that rank.

I looked at the greasy face in his file and hit Enter without a flicker of emotion.

Approved.

Go ahead and climb, David.

Use me as your stepping stone to the top.

In that moment, I wasn't angry anymore.

Sophie picked up a brick and threw it at my window to keep taunting me.

"Bitch, I know you're watching. Tomorrow morning, I'm bulldozing this dump of yours too!"

I called Marcus Vaughn.

"Ms. Stirling, you've finally called..."

I cut him off.

"Marcus.

"My flowers. They destroyed all of them."

On the other end, I heard a chair crash to the floor.

"Tomorrow, at David's party, bring the whole board and anyone else you can get.

"Let's give him a celebration to remember."

...

First thing in the morning, David got his appointment notice. It read, "David Miller is hereby promoted to Executive Vice President, West Coast, Vaughn Realty."

"It went through!" David grabbed Sophie in a hug. "The big boss signed it personally!"

Sophie hugged him back happily, then looked out the window.

"The bulldozer's ready. But if that caretaker bitch next door tries to make a scene..."

"Then tie her up and bring her over here." David straightened his tie. "Rip off those rags, put her in a maid's uniform, and make her kneel to greet the guests."

Ten minutes later, my door was smashed open.

Carl barged in with security.

They had stun batons.

"Listen up, maid. Today's the big day Mr. Miller becomes vice president, so we're giving you a chance to earn your keep."

Two of the guards threw a maid's uniform at me.

"Get changed, or should the boys help you?"

Everything they said was crude and threatening.

I didn't fight back. I just looked at Carl's ugly face.

"I'll change myself."

They shoved me into a storage room like a prisoner.

Outside the door, Carl was still jeering.

"Carry those trays nice and steady today, and you'll earn enough for dog food!"

The lawn was already packed with guests.

David was on top of the world, soaking up everyone's flattery.

The party had turned into a celebration of his promotion.

I stood in the most visible spot, beside the red carpet at the entrance, under the blazing sun in a cheap maid's uniform. They'd put me on display like a trophy.

Sophie tipped my chin up, smug.

"Weren't you mouthing off yesterday? Look at you now. This is what a bitch is supposed to look like."

In front of every guest, she poured a glass of champagne over my head.

"Remember how this feels. Now get on your knees and greet the guests."

Sophie patted my cheek.

I glanced up at the clock on the wall.

Five minutes left.

I watched David raise glass after glass and couldn't keep from smiling.

Enjoy it, David. You too, Sophie.

You've got five minutes of freedom left.

Nine o'clock on the dot.

With a crash, the gate was rammed open.

Four Maybachs rolled right over the red carpet, tearing it to shreds.

More than a dozen bodyguards jumped out and sealed off every exit.

The estate guards who tried to stop them were forced to the ground with guns to their heads before they could say a word.

The band stopped dead.

David flinched.

But once he saw the license plates, he turned and called out to the stunned guests.

"It's corporate, here to show me some support. In all of California, only Vaughn Realty rolls up in style like this."

He hurried over with Sophie to greet them.

The door of the second Maybach opened.

An old man with white hair and a cane stepped out.

Marcus Vaughn, chairman of the Vaughn Group.

David had never dreamed his party could draw the chairman, a powerful businessman who almost never appeared in public.

"Mr. Vaughn, you came in person. It's an honor."

Marcus ignored him and looked at the wrecked garden.

His hand tightened around his cane.

Then he saw me, in a maid's uniform, holding a tray.

Marcus went white and almost fainted.