“You’re not welcome,” Mom emailed. “This is my resort.” I forwarded it: “Cancel her event—owner’s orders.”

For a moment, I couldn’t process it.
Miles Chen had never told me “no” in four years. He was the kind of manager who could run a ballroom flip with a broken AC unit and still have the place looking flawless by sunset. He was loyal, steady, and meticulous.
So why was he refusing a direct order from the owner?
My thumb hovered over the call button again. Before I could hit it, another email arrived—this one from a corporate-looking address I didn’t recognize: [email protected]

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