​I stepped out of the car, my eyes immediately drawn to the stranger waiting outside.

​"Miss Hayes?" His voice was deep, clipped, and his expression was sharp and unchanging.

​He was tall, I could swear he was over 6'3". His face was well-structured with a perfectly outlined jaw. His pointed nose was alluring, giving balance to his perfect facial structure. His hair was long but tied up in a bun. With a nice carved mustache and goatee, his pink lips sat between them. He wore a nicely tailored black suit that wasn't fitted but still gave way for his muscles to be seen. His perfectly shined black boots shone under the sun.

​I was too busy noting his perfection I didn't notice I had been staring, almost drooling.

​"Miss Hayes?" he called out again, snapping me out of my delusion.

​"Mm? Yeah...uh...it's Elena. Just call me Elena," I replied, flushed at how I had been staring.

​"Sure." He replied coldly.

​"Uh, rude," I thought to myself.

​"And you must be Lucas Vance?" I asked, unscathed.

​"The one and only," he replied, his gaze still fixed on me. "This is my assistant, John. He will take you to the mansion and give you a tour if you need one. I have a meeting. We'd chat when I'm back," he said before walking towards the black Chevrolet Camaro that stood waiting for him without a second glance at me.

​John, his assistant, walked towards me with a soft smile.

​"Miss Hayes, follow me please," he said, reaching for my traveling box.

​The wheels of my box rolled softly over the cobblestone path beneath us. The stones were smooth, worn down by years of footsteps, yet still strong and unbroken. On either side, wildflowers pushed through the grass, their colors bright against the deep green that stretched across the island. The air smelled of salt and something sweet, like the earth itself was alive and waiting.

​There was a little town, fishermen throwing their nets into the sea from their boats, a little farmers' market which we passed. I saw women making embroidery stitches. They must be tailors, I thought to myself.

​"I actually thought there were no inhabitants here," I started, trying to ease the silence between John and me.

​"Oh...nothing grand. These people have lived here long before I came with Mr. Vance. They worked to keep the island alive for your uncle, Mr. Alden," he answered calmly.

​"Mr. Vance, huh? Is he always that...cold?" I asked inquisitively.

​John chuckled lightly.

​"Mr. Vance is kind of complicated. But I promise he has a soft heart under that deep voice and expressionless glare," John answered.

​"I doubt," I murmured to myself.

​After walking for about seven minutes, we arrived at a huge mansion.

​Damn! It's even larger than ours back home.

​John pushed open the tall mahogany doors, and they groaned softly on their hinges as though they carried the weight of years.

​The first thing that struck me was the size. The foyer soared upward into a vaulted ceiling, where a crystal chandelier glimmered with fractured sunlight. The floor beneath my feet was a flawless stretch of polished marble, its veins twisting like frozen rivers.

​Two sweeping staircases curved upward on either side, meeting at a balcony that overlooked the entrance hall. Dark oil paintings lined the walls, landscapes of Erténa's coast, portraits of people I didn't recognize. Their painted eyes seemed to follow me as I stepped inside.

​Fresh flowers sat in a tall glass vase on a round table at the center of the room, their fragrance softening the otherwise intimidating grandeur.

​"It's... massive," I whispered, half to myself.

​John gave a faint smile. "Your uncle took great pride in this place. Every piece of it was built with care. And now," he paused, glancing at me as though weighing his words, "it belongs to you."

​I let that sink in as my eyes drifted upward again, drawn to the chandelier's glittering light. For a brief moment, I felt both overwhelmed and strangely... chosen.

​"Let me show you to your room, Miss Ha-" John began, but I cut him off gently.

​"Elena," I corrected, offering him a small smile. "Just Elena."

​John gave a polite nod. "Of course, Elena."

​He led me up the wide staircase. The hallways smelled faintly of cedarwood and something older, something... timeless. We passed tall arched windows where the velvet drapes were tied back neatly. Outside, the evening sun spilled orange light over the sea, the view stretching endlessly beyond the glass. My footsteps echoed against the marble floor, too loud in the heavy silence.

​Finally, John stopped before a double oak door. He pushed it open gently, revealing a spacious room with soft cream walls, a canopy bed dressed in white sheets, and a carved wooden wardrobe. On the far side, French doors opened to a private balcony overlooking the ocean.

​"This will be your room for the time being," John said, setting my traveling box at the foot of the bed. "If you need anything, I'll be just down the hall."

​I stepped inside, my fingers grazing the carved bedpost. The room was beautiful, almost too beautiful, as if it held stories I wasn't yet meant to know.

​Lucas's POV

​Inside the car, I thought to myself. She was beautiful. A perfectly toned skin, pink lovely lips that sat on her cute face. Little freckles complementing her one-sided dimple. Her hair, long and soil brown. Her scent filled my nose the closer she got. She allured me but I tried to act unphased.

​"What is it about this woman that calmed my hard heart for a moment?" I muttered lightly.

​The car pulled to a halt.

​"We are here, sir," my driver called from the driver's seat, jolting me from my thoughts.

​I walked out briskly, headed towards the large building complex-Vance Corporations. I have worked hard for years to be where I am today. It wasn't always sunshine and rainbows, but I earned the robust life I live today, including Erténa. If living with Elena meant having full inheritance over my Island, I wasn't planning to make her stay sweet.

​Elena's POV

​My slumber was cut short by the little knock on the door. I sprung up, looking at my silver wrist watch. It was quarter past eight.

​When did I fall asleep? I thought.

​"Come in!" I answered, sitting up.

​"Miss Elena, dinner is served in the dining," a woman, supposedly in her late 50s, said, creaking my door open.

​"Okay, thanks. I'd be right there," I responded.

​She closed the door and walked away. I got up, putting my box on the bed and searching for something light to put on. I saw the cute black gown Uncle Frederick gave me three years ago for my 21st birthday. Still as lovely as it was when he first got it. My hand trailed the little buttons on the chest area as I thought, it'll be perfect.

​I quickly put on the dress and walked down towards the large dining on the east wing as John had told me. There at the dining table was a huge feast. Delicacies of different kinds filled the air with such a sweet aroma. I walked slowly towards the table, my eyes moving from one dish to another. My mouth watered and I couldn't wait to devour them. Just then my eyes moved towards the man seated at the end of the long table. It was Lucas.

​I walked to the seat opposite his and sat facing him at the other end of the table. Grabbing a plate to fill with the dishes I found most enticing, I decided to start a small conversation.

​I mean, I'm gonna live with him for a year, I might as well try to like him, I thought to myself.

​"So...Lucas. I didn't get the opportunity to tell you it was nice meeting ya," I said, my hands still busy dishing food.

​He ignored.

​"Well, as you already know, I'm Elena, late Mr. Alden's niece and I'd like it if we both cooperated and got to know each other since we are forced to be cohabitants of this beautiful mansion," I continued, pausing what I was doing to face the figure who hadn't said a word since I arrived.

​"Elena, is it? And why do we have to like each other?" Lucas finally spoke, taking a spoon of what seemed like curry before him.

​"I mean...it's better than forcing your arrogance on me, don't you think?" I replied him sternly.

​Pushing his chair back, he stood up briskly and walked towards me. The air suddenly became thick. His gaze pierced through me as he walked closer and closer, not a smile in sight.

I tried to stay calm, but my heart pounded in my chest. My throat felt tight, and my hands trembled slightly on the tabletop.

​Lucas stopped just short of me, his towering figure casting a shadow across the table. He leaned in slightly, his voice low but razor-sharp.

​"You'll soon learn, Elena," he said, his breath warm against my ear, "liking me isn't a requirement for surviving here."

​He pulled back, his expression unreadable, before turning and walking away, leaving the faint echo of his words behind. I sat frozen in my seat, spoon suspended in mid-air, my appetite gone.

ELENA'S POV

The heavy sound of Lucas's footsteps faded as he left the dining hall, leaving me staring at the long stretch of table between us. The feast suddenly felt less appetizing, but my stomach won the argument, and I quietly finished what was on my plate. The silence of the mansion pressed in, broken only by the faint tick of an old clock somewhere down the hall.

When I finally returned to my room, I set my half-packed box by the dresser and sank onto the bed. My eyes traced the carvings on the wooden ceiling, my mind still tangled with thoughts of Uncle Frederick's letter, the island, and the man who clearly wanted nothing to do with me.

One year, I reminded myself. Just one year. But as I lay down, staring at the shadows stretching across the walls, a single question echoed in my head: how on earth was I supposed to survive here and who Is Lucas Vance?

The soft rush of the waves lulled me into sleep, pulling me under before I could find an answer.

Morning came with the cry of gulls outside my window and the faint scent of salt drifting in with the breeze.

I sat up straight, brushing a loose strand of hair away from my face. The sunlight pouring through the tall windows illuminated the room's beauty in a way I hadn't noticed the night before.

Stretching, I rose and wandered into the spacious bathroom tucked beside a walk-in wardrobe. After a refreshing shower, I scavenged through the clothes already neatly arranged and separated in the wardrobe. My eyes settled on a simple outfit: a black leather jacket over a white top, paired with blue jeans. Black boots completed the look as I grabbed them on my way out.

Heading down the hallway toward the dining area, I nearly jumped out of my skin when a figure appeared out of nowhere.

"Oh God!" I gasped, clutching my chest.

"Sorry, Miss Hayes. I didn't mean to startle you," the woman said apologetically. She looked to be in her late fifties, her kind smile softening the sharpness of her sudden appearance.

"I'm Gertha, the head chef," she introduced herself warmly.

"Nice to meet you, Gertha," I replied with a small smile, still catching my breath.

"Breakfast is served in the dining hall," she said, bowing her head slightly.

"Perfect. I was just heading there," I answered, then added casually, "Will Lucas be joining us?"

"Mr. Lucas already left for work, miss."

"That's alright," I said with a relieved smile, continuing toward the dining room.

"Well, good thing that meany isn't here," I muttered under my breath, smirking.

The dining hall felt emptier than last night, though no less grand. A long polished oak table stretched across the room, but only one place had been set, mine.

Silverware gleamed under the chandelier, and steam rose from platters arranged neatly along the sideboard. Freshly baked bread, golden croissants, bowls of colorful fruits, scrambled eggs, and a pot of what smelled like rich coffee filled the air with a heavenly aroma.

I slid into my chair, a small smile tugging at my lips. At least someone here wanted me fed.

As I helped myself to eggs and bread, I couldn't help but think about Lucas. Cold, arrogant, impossible Lucas. How could someone so handsome be so insufferable? I rolled my eyes just at the thought of him.

Still, the food was comforting. Each bite softened the sting of last night's tension, and for a few minutes, I allowed myself to enjoy the quiet.

"Hmm... maybe living here won't be so bad," I whispered to myself, savoring the taste of the croissant.

But the thought didn't last long. My eyes drifted to the far end of the table where Lucas had sat the night before. The chair was empty now, but somehow his presence lingered,like a shadow I couldn't shake.

As I ate, a thought struck me. Why don't I go to the town today?

"Miss Gertha!" I called out.

"Yes, Miss Elena?" she answered, appearing almost instantly.

"I'd like to go to the little town today," I said with an enthusiastic smile.

"Ah, ready to address the people, I see!" she replied, her face lighting up.

"Address the people?" I asked, brows furrowed.

"Of course, Miss. Those townsfolk were your uncle's workers. Now that he's gone and Erténa belongs to you, they're yours."

"My workers?" I echoed in disbelief. Was this some kind of fairy tale where I was suddenly the princess of a town? The thought made me both nervous and giddy. Oh my God, today is going to be interesting.

"I'll call your assistant immediately, Miss," Gertha said with a small bow before disappearing down the hall.

"Assistant?" I muttered, still baffled.

I was finishing off the last bites of my breakfast when a young woman walked in with a bright, confident smile.

"Good morning, Miss Elena. I'm Melody, your new personal assistant," she said proudly.

"Nice... nice to meet you, Melody," I replied, my voice carrying a tint of confusion.

"I'll be with you wherever you go and answer any questions about your duties here on Erténa, Miss," she explained, her tone soft but purposeful.

"Okay, so let me get this straight." I leaned forward, eyes wide. "I own this island, the people in it too, and everything around here is under my administration now?"

"That's exactly it, Miss," she said with a polite nod.

"Well, in that case, let's start by calling me just Elena. You're my assistant, sure, but I think we're going to be great friends."

Melody's smile widened. She was young, probably around my age, with warm eyes and a charm that felt instantly disarming. She wore a simple cream blouse tucked into a navy skirt, her neat braids swinging gently as she nodded.

The cobbled path wound down from the mansion into the heart of the town, Melody walking briskly at my side. Children darted between stalls, their laughter mingling with the clatter of pots and the cries of merchants selling their goods. The salty air from the sea mixed with the smell of fresh bread, smoked fish, and ripe fruits.

I slowed my steps, soaking it all in. "This place is... beautiful," I whispered, almost to myself.

Melody beamed. "Your uncle made sure the people always had what they needed. He wanted the island to thrive."

We wandered from stall to stall. A woman pressed a bundle of herbs into my hand, insisting it would help me sleep better. A fisherman proudly displayed his catch, the silver scales of the fish glinting in the sun. I smiled, thanked them, and felt something warm stir in my chest.

But then, the atmosphere shifted.

A few men paused their work, staring at me with furrowed brows. Two women at the fruit stand leaned closer, whispering behind their baskets. Children stopped their games to point before their mothers hurried them along.

"Who's that?" a voice muttered near the bakery.

"Never seen her before."

"She's with Melody... could she be a guest of Mr. Vance?"

"No, look at how she carries herself. Who does she think she is?"

The murmurs swelled, like the tide rolling in. Everywhere I turned, eyes followed me,not hostile, but questioning, suspicious.

I leaned closer to Melody, lowering my voice. "Why are they staring at me like that?"

Melody's smile faltered for the first time. "They... they don't know about you yet. For years, they've only ever seen Mr. Vance as the one in charge."

My chest tightened. "So to them... I'm just a stranger?"

Melody hesitated, then gave a small nod.

A strange chill settled over me despite the warmth of the afternoon sun. For the first time since stepping onto Erténa, I wondered if Uncle Frederick's gift was more curse than blessing.

LUCAS' POV

The steady rhythm of my fingers against the keyboard filled the office, the glow of the screen casting pale light on the polished desk. Numbers, contracts, projections, all things that usually demanded every ounce of my focus blurred for a moment.

Instead, my mind wandered back to last night.

Her voice. The way her eyes darted across the table, full of fire and defiance. The way she stiffened when I spoke.

Did I frighten her?

I leaned back in my chair, pinching the bridge of my nose. It shouldn't matter. She wasn't here for comfort. She wasn't here to be understood. She was here because of a piece of paper Mr Frederick left behind. A piece of paper that handed her power I had bled years to earn.

Still, the thought lingered. Was she really a threat?

I shook my head sharply, dismissing the weakness before it could grow. No. She was just a complication. One I would control.

My eyes slid to the clock on the wall. Noon. I hadn't stepped foot in the town in weeks, maybe longer. Not since Father...no, since he passed. Perhaps it was time to see how things were faring. Erténa had always thrived under my watch. The people trusted me.

Yes. I'd leave the office early. Drive down into the heart of town. Remind the island who truly kept it alive.

I smirked faintly, the thought oddly satisfying. If Elena thought she could walk in and claim her place here, she was in for a rude awakening.

ELENA'S POV

At first, I tried to ignore the stares. I busied myself with Melody, peering at stalls, asking questions, smiling politely. But the murmurs only grew louder as we moved deeper into the town square.

"Who is she?"

"Never seen her before."

"She walks like she owns the place."

My smile faltered, unease prickling my skin. "Melody," I whispered, leaning closer. "They're staring."

"They're only surprised, Miss...uh, Elena," Melody corrected herself quickly. "They've only ever known Mr. Lucas as the master of Erténa."

I nodded, though my throat felt tight. I turned to the crowd with a brave smile. "Good morning," I began softly. "I'm Elena Hayes... Frederick Alden's niece. I thought it was time I met all of you."

The name fell like a stone into water. Ripples of discontent spread instantly.

"Alden's niece?"

"So she thinks she's the new mistress?"

"This is Lucas's land now!"

The voices hardened, fusing into one sharp edge. My chest tightened as the crowd pressed closer.

"We don't need some outsider telling us how to live!" a man shouted.

A woman pushed to the front, her face flushed with anger. "All these years we worked under Mr. Alden, and now you come waltzing in, claiming us like property?" She sneered. "You're not one of us."

"I didn't mean..." I started, but my words were drowned out.

"You don't belong here!" the woman spat, raising her hand as if to strike.

I froze, my breath caught, heart pounding in my ears. I flinched instinctively, bracing for the sting.

And then a voice, low and commanding, sliced through the uproar.

"Enough!"

The crowd stilled. Silence dropped heavy as everyone turned. Lucas stood at the edge of the square, his eyes like steel, his presence alone enough to silence the mob.

He strode forward, his gaze fixed first on the woman, then on me. He stepped in front of me without hesitation, shielding me completely.

"She is under my protection," he said coldly, his voice carrying through the square. "Anyone who lays a hand on her answers to me."

The woman's hand trembled, then dropped to her side. The others backed away slowly, murmuring again, this time in hushed tones.

I looked up at Lucas, my chest still rising and falling quickly. Relief washed through me, but so did confusion. His glare hadn't softened, not toward the people, not toward me.

"She stays," he repeated, his tone final.

And just like that, the tension broke. The townspeople scattered, leaving me trembling beside the man I wasn't sure was my savior... or my jailer.

The crowd dispersed reluctantly, their whispers trailing behind them like smoke. My knees felt weak, but I forced myself to stand tall behind Lucas's broad frame.

He didn't look at me. Not once. He simply turned on his heel and muttered, "Follow me."

And though part of me wanted to argue, my feet moved anyway, following the man who had just saved me from strangers... but whose silence frightened me more than their anger.

LUCAS' POV

The ride back to the mansion was thick with silence. Not even Melody's timid attempts at small talk could cut through it. When the car pulled up, I stepped out first, my stride sharp, deliberate. Inside, the marble floors echoed under my boots as I paced the length of the grand hall, every thought grinding against the next.

She had walked into town like she owned it. Stood before the people as if she had earned their respect. And when they turned on her, it was me who had to step in.

I turned, my eyes locking on her where she sat stiffly on the edge of a velvet chair, her hands folded neatly in her lap. She looked calm. Too calm. As if she hadn't nearly been struck minutes ago.

I moved closer, one hand gripping the back of her chair, leaning down just enough that my shadow swallowed hers.

"What exactly was your plan in town?" My voice was low, edged with steel. "To parade yourself before people who don't know you? To invite their doubt? Their anger?"

Her head tilted up, eyes meeting mine without a flicker of fear. Stubborn. Defiant.

"My plan," she said evenly, "was to meet the people who are as much mine as they are yours."

The words struck like a challenge.

"You think standing in front of them makes them yours?" I snapped, my hand tightening on the chair. "Respect isn't inherited, Elena. It's earned. And today, you nearly lost theirs before you even began."

She stood abruptly, closing the space between us so fast my hand slipped from the chair. Her chin lifted, her voice steady.

"This is my island too, Lucas. My uncle left it to me. You may not like it, but you don't get to decide if I belong here."

For a moment, silence stretched between us, heavy and sharp. Her eyes burned into mine, refusing to back down.

And for the first time in years, I realized someone wasn't afraid of me.

Her words lingered in the air like sparks threatening to ignite something bigger. I hadn't expected her to rise up and face me head-on, not after what happened in the town square. But she didn't stop there.

"I didn't need your help," she said firmly, her eyes never leaving mine. "I had things under control."

A dry laugh escaped me. "Is that so?"

I took a step forward, slow and deliberate. She took one back. Another step, and another, until her back brushed against the tall bookshelf in the corner of the room. Trapped.

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, but she didn't look away. Not once.

Inside, two thoughts warred in her mind: Why does he always have to get under my skin? And If I give in now, he'll think he's won.

I braced a hand against the shelf just above her shoulder, leaning in close enough to catch the quick rhythm of her breath.

"You think you could have handled them?" My voice was low, each word deliberate. "Those people would have torn you apart if I hadn't stepped in."

Her lips parted as if to argue, but no sound came. The silence between us pressed heavier than the walls of the mansion itself.

For one dizzying moment, neither of us moved.

"I-I could have handled them," she stammered, though the faint quiver in her voice betrayed her.

My lips curved into the ghost of a smirk, my eyes narrowing as if I'd already won the argument.

But then her chin lifted, steadying herself. Her voice firmed. "I will earn their respect, one way or another. And there's nothing you can do to stop me."

I froze, hand still pressed to the bookshelf, my gaze, dark and unreadable.

"This island may have been under your control for years, but don't forget, it's mine too. Uncle Frederick made sure of that. And if you think I'll spend the next year cowering in your shadow, you're mistaken."

She pushed away from the shelf, brushing past me with a defiance that made my jaw clench.

At the doorway, she paused just long enough to throw the final blow over her shoulder. "You don't scare me, Lucas. Not anymore."

Then she disappeared down the hall, her footsteps fading toward her room, leaving me standing in the silence of the library, her words echoing louder than the clock ticking on the wall.

For the first time in years, I wasn't sure if I was losing control... or if control had just slipped into her hands.

The echo of her footsteps faded, but her words refused to leave with them.

I stood frozen, one hand still pressed against the shelf where she'd been cornered. My jaw tightened, my pulse a steady drum beneath my skin.

She had looked me in the eye. Defiant. Unafraid.

Most people...hell, everyone lowered their gaze when I closed in. They shifted, faltered, broke under the weight of my silence. But not her. She stumbled, yes. But she recovered. She fought back.

My lips pressed into a thin line. "Earn their respect?" I muttered under my breath, pacing slowly across the room. The idea was laughable. The townspeople weren't easy to win over. They followed strength, discipline. Not warmth. Not... whatever she thought she had to offer.

And yet...

I paused at the tall window, staring out at the glittering sea. The memory of her fire still burned in my mind, stirring something I hadn't felt in years. Irritation, yes, but also something far more dangerous.

I clenched my fists, forcing the thought away. She wasn't here to impress me. She wasn't here to play queen.

This was my island. My people. My rules.

And I'd be damned if I let her take that away.

ELENA'S POV

I slammed the door behind me, pressing my back against it as though I needed the wood to hold me upright. My chest rose and fell sharply, the echoes of his voice still ringing in my ears.

What was that? The way he stood over me, every word dripping with authority, every step shrinking the space until I had nowhere to go. For a terrifying moment, I thought I might break.

But I didn't. I'd held my ground. I'd told him what I needed to say.

I exhaled shakily and pushed off the door, pacing to the bed where I dropped heavily onto the mattress. My hands were trembling, though whether from fear, anger, or... something else, I wasn't sure.

Because the truth was, Lucas Vance wasn't just infuriating. He was... God help me... he was magnetic. The sharp line of his jaw, the intensity in his eyes, the way his voice curled low when he said "is that so?". I hated how it made my stomach twist.

I ran a hand through my hair, groaning. "Get a grip, Elena. He's arrogant. Overbearing. A complete menace."

And yet the memory of being cornered against the bookshelf replayed in my mind, only this time my thoughts strayed dangerously close to what might have happened if I hadn't found my voice again.

I shook the thought off, forcing myself to focus. He wasn't the point. The point was me. This island. Uncle Frederick's letter. My responsibility.

Still, as I lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, I couldn't stop the flush that crept into my cheeks.

One way or another, I would earn the town's respect.

And if Lucas Vance thought he could intimidate me out of it, then he was about to find out just how stubborn I could be.

A sharp knock broke through my thoughts, snapping me out of the little daydream I'd slipped into.

"Elena?" Melody's voice carried through the door.

"Come in," I said quickly.

She stepped in with her usual polite smile, though I noticed a flicker of guilt in her eyes. "I wanted to apologize... for what happened in town today. The people can be harsh, but they'll come around."

I waved it off. "Don't worry about it. I'll earn their respect one way or another."

Melody nodded, then brightened. "Well, I do have some news that might cheer you up. Your request for an interview at Vance Corporations was approved."

My brows shot up. "Seriously? That was fast."

"Yes. They don't usually grant interviews this quickly, but I suppose being the new head of Erténa helped move things along," she said.

I leaned back on the bed, relief washing over me. "Good. At least I'll have something to do instead of rotting away in this mansion all day."

Melody tilted her head. "You don't like the idea of living easy?"

"Not if it means doing nothing. I need something productive, something that feels like mine, not just inheriting Uncle Frederick's fortune."

Her expression softened before turning serious. "Vance Corporations is... well, it's no easy place. They're powerful, and their CEO is known for being brilliant, but also ruthless. People say Mr Vance doesn't forgive mistakes."

I let out a dry laugh. "Sounds like a typical man in power. Arrogant, controlling, untouchable. I've dealt with worse."

Melody didn't laugh with me. Instead, she gave a small, uneasy smile, almost as if she knew something I didn't.

I glanced at the bold Vance Corporations logo at the top of the envelope, a stubborn smile tugging at my lips. "Then I guess I'll just have to prove myself to them."

Melody tilted her head. "And what did you have in mind?"

A slow smile curved my lips. "I'll apply for Marketing Assistant, maybe. It's the perfect way to be useful while I'm here."

Melody's brows lifted in surprise, but I pressed on. "If Lucas thinks I'll just sit around like a pretty doll, he's wrong. I'll make my own place here. One way or another."

The conviction in my voice surprised even me. For the first time since stepping foot on Erténa, I didn't just feel like someone's pawn. I felt like I was finally about to play my own game.