Chapter 1

In high society circles, everyone knew the heir of the Hartley family had recently been doting on a commoner girl like she was his queen.

To celebrate her birthday, he secured Luna Isle, an island that had never been open to the public, and announced in front of everyone that it belonged to the Hartley family.

On the night of the birthday party, a ten-tier cake was wheeled onto the main stage. The girl cut the first slice with tears in her eyes.

No one knew that a helicopter bearing the Sinclair Family Crest had already landed on the island.

Ten minutes later, every light on the island went out.

I slapped the property deed down in front of Andrew Hartley. "Using my island to impress your little fling? Who gave you the nerve?"

*****

"Luna Isle is only open to Miss Turner's guests tonight. No unauthorized visitors," the dock manager said, his tone oddly familiar as he stopped me.

I stared at him. "Unauthorized visitors?"

He clutched the register to his chest.

"Mr. Hartley gave strict orders. Tonight's Miss Turner's birthday party. If you don't have an invitation, you can't set foot on the island."

The female receptionist next to him snickered. "Miss, don't give us a hard time. Only regulars from the elite crowd get to set foot on Luna Isle."

"Mr. Hartley said so?" I asked.

The manager tilted his chin up. "Of course. Mr. Hartley owns the island. Whatever he says goes."

My uncle, Tom Richard, standing behind me, spoke up. "Since when did this island belong to the Hartley family?"

The manager frowned. "Who are you people, anyway? Keep this up and I'll call security."

My phone buzzed.

A message from Andrew popped up.

[Victoria, I've got a business dinner tonight. Don't wait up for me.]

I replied with a single word: [Okay.]

Over at the dock, several shuttle buses were parked.

Their sides were decorated with gold lettering.

[Emily Turner's 22nd Birthday Party.]

Tom glanced at them. "Miss Sinclair, should we clear the place out now?"

I put my phone away. "No rush."

"No rush."

The manager was getting impatient. "Don't you get it? No invitation, no entry."

I said, "I have one."

He held out his hand.

I pulled a black and gold card from my bag.

It was an internal Sinclair Family access card.

The manager took it, glanced at it for a couple of seconds, and then laughed. "Seriously? You expect me to believe this is an invitation?"

The female receptionist leaned in. "People will do anything to crash a party on Luna Isle these days."

I didn't say a word.

Tom's face darkened. "Get your supervisor here."

"Get your supervisor here."

The manager snorted. "The supervisor's busy at the main venue with Mr. Hartley and Miss Turner. He doesn't have time for you.

"The supervisor's busy at the main venue with Mr. Hartley and Miss Turner. He doesn't have time for you."

"If you're just here to snap some pics, try your luck somewhere else."

He threw the card back at my feet. "Don't mess up the dock."

"Don't mess up the dock."

Tom bent down to pick it up.

I stopped him. "Don't pick it up."

The manager paused, surprised.

I stepped over the card and headed for the shuttle bus.

The manager rushed after me. "Stop."

Two security guards blocked the front of the bus. "Miss, please leave."

I stopped. "You work for the Sinclair family, but now you're playing gatekeeper for Andrew?"

The manager's face grew even more impatient. "Stop throwing the Sinclair family name around. Everyone knows Mr. Hartley's about to marry into the Sinclair family. He'll own this island soon."

I laughed. "Soon enough?"

The female receptionist crossed her arms. "Mr. Hartley dotes on Miss Turner, but that doesn't stop him from marrying Miss Sinclair.

"That's just how rich families do things. Miss Sinclair doesn't mind, so why are you making a fuss?"

Tom couldn't hold back anymore. "How dare you."

The manager flinched at his shout, but quickly straightened up. "Fine, you really want to cause trouble, huh?"

He turned to the security guards. "Escort them out."

The security guard reached out.

I looked up. "Go ahead, touch me and see what happens."

The security guard's hand froze in midair.

The manager grabbed his walkie-talkie. "We've got trouble at the dock. Send two people over."

Loud music blared from the walkie-talkie.

A girl's sugary laugh followed. "Andrew, is this island really yours?"

Andrew's voice came through the walkie-talkie. "Of course.

"As long as you like it, we'll have your birthday here every year."

The manager shot me a self-satisfied grin. "Did you hear that?"

I nodded.

"Yeah, I heard," I replied.

I took out my phone and made a call. "In ten minutes, all temporary permissions for Luna Isle expire."

The reply came instantly. "Miss Sinclair, should we cut off Mr. Hartley too?"

I looked toward the island, glowing brightly in the distance. "Him too."

The manager's smile faded. "Who are you calling?"

I replied, "Someone who actually has the authority to open the doors."

The female receptionist rolled her eyes.

"Nice act," she scoffed.

Just then, a black shuttle bus pulled up from the island.

The door swung open, and a man in a suit jogged out.

The manager rushed over to greet him. "Mr. Mason, what brings you over? There's a bit of trouble here, but I'll take care of it."

John Mason didn't even glance at him, heading straight for me.

He bent down. "Miss Sinclair, my apologies for being late."

The manager looked stunned, his face drained of all color.

The register clattered to the floor from the female receptionist's hands.

I asked, "Who gave Andrew permission to throw a party here tonight?"

Beads of sweat broke out on John's forehead. "Mr. Hartley said you'd given your approval."

I looked at him. "Did I really?"

"Did I really?"

John lowered his head. "No."

The manager tried to speak, lips trembling. "Mr. Mason, who is she..."

John turned and smacked him on the shoulder. "This is Miss Sinclair, the one and only owner of Luna Isle, Victoria Sinclair."

The dock fell silent.

The female receptionist hurried to pick up the black and gold card. "Ms. Sinclair, I'm so sorry. I really didn't know..."

I didn't reach for it. "It's dirty now."

The female receptionist's hand froze.

I looked at John. "Lead the way."

"Lead the way."

John quickly moved aside. "Miss Sinclair, after you."

The shuttle bus rolled toward the main venue.

Fireworks exploded in the distance, lighting up the sea with a dazzling glow.

Tom sat across from me.

"Miss Sinclair, they're already cutting the cake," he said.

I glanced at my phone.

Emily had just posted a new post.

In the photo, she was wearing a white gown, posing in front of a towering ten-layer cake.

The caption was just one line.

[He said Luna Isle is my home now, too.]

Andrew had already liked it.

I turned off my phone. "Let's show her who actually runs this place."