My family owned Belgard Estate, a historic wine property that had recently gone viral after serving as the backdrop for a series of advertisements and product livestreams.

On one occasion, my butler and I could not even enter the grounds. Influencers crowded the entrance, phones raised, security overwhelmed. My fiancée apologized.

"The mayor wanted to borrow the estate, dear. I couldn't tell him no," she said. "Just bear with it for a while, okay? Once the trend dies down, I'll have them all cleared out. Trust me."

I trusted her. I never raised the issue again.

Some time later, my grandfather prepared to celebrate his 90th birthday. I returned to the estate to retrieve our finest vintage for the occasion, only to find myself nearly crushed by a shrieking crowd packed outside the gates.

I slipped away and made my way to the back entrance after someone in the crowd called me a "free-riding bum."

Bewildered, I was ready to present proof of ownership when a woman shouted over the noise, "Didn't you hear? Miss LePenn has already announced that Belgard Estate has been given to Jacques Martin! I don't care how big a fan you are of him. You still have to buy a ticket to see him like the rest of us!"

I stood there, stunned.

Jacques? The first man I had ever allowed to use this estate for a product livestream? It belonged to him now?

And since when had Sylvia become the mistress of this place? Since when did she even have a boyfriend?

Enough was enough. It was time to bring these people's business with Belgard Estate to an end.

"Get a load of this shameless bitch! He thinks he can just walk in without paying!"

"Smile, you freeloading bum. You're on the internet now!"

Phones and cameras shot up and pointed at me like weapons. I turned aside and shielded my face with my hands. I forced myself to stay calm.

"What are you talking about? This estate is mine. I have no idea what you're accusing me of."

The woman who had started the shouting, the obvious ringleader, stepped closer instead of backing off.

She yelled hard enough that flecks of spit nearly hit my face.

"Cut the crap. We all know Belgard Estate belongs to our Jaxie, you scum. If you're going to run a scam, at least pick a place owned by someone as irrelevant as you are.

"Miss LePenn already given this estate to Jaxie. She said so on a livestream."

I frowned.

Half a month ago, my girlfriend, Sylvia LePenn, had lent the estate to the mayor for a promotional shoot. The video had gone viral. Since then, Belgard had become the top livestream backdrop and photo spot for influencers. Once the celebrities arrived, their fans followed. The crowds multiplied overnight.

The problem was simple. I had no idea the estate had turned into a fan gathering site. I owned this place.

Today was my grandfather's birthday party. I did not have time to argue about property rights with people consumed by late-stage parasocial obsession.

I pulled up an official document on my phone and held it out.

"Look at this. My name is on the deed. Belgard is mine," I said evenly. "Now move aside. I need to get my wine."

The ringleader snatched my phone and scanned the screen. She looked me over with open suspicion.

"How are we supposed to know this is real? None of us works in property. None of us owns a wine estate. This could be fake. It could be AI."

My patience snapped, and I called my butler. "William. Tell them. Is this fake?"

William Barnes had served as Belgard's majordomo since he was a young man. He had always been steady and dependable.

I expected him to settle this in seconds.

He glanced at my phone, then tossed it back to me. "Who the hell are you? Everyone knows Miss Sylvia LePenn owns Belgard. I've worked here for decades. I know exactly who I serve, and it's not you."

The woman glared at me.

"So you are a con artist. You're here to sabotage our meet-and-greet, aren't you?" she shrieked. "I can see it in your eyes. You're jealous of Jaxie. You want to hurt him."

The fans behind her surged forward and swallowed her in the crowd.

As she disappeared, I caught a glimpse of the nameplate pinned to her chest: Melanie.

I ignored the mob and fixed my gaze on William and his shifty eyes.

"Who convinced your father to extend your contract when my father planned to fire you ten years ago because you weren't quick enough anymore?" I shot back. "I did. And now you claim you don't know me?"

William wiped sweat from his brow and signaled for security.

Then he raised his voice for the crowd. "Oh, I remember you. You showed up a month ago and refused to leave until you could see Miss LePenn. You thought she might fall for you looking like that. Too bad for you. Miss LePenn already had Jacques by then."

The crowd erupted.

"How dare you try to ruin Jaxie and his sweetheart!"

"Jealousy is ugly, and you're the ugliest of all. Let's make him famous online. See if he can ever show his face outside again," Melanie shouted.

She hurled a water bottle at me. It struck my forehead. Sharp, immediate pain flared. I touched my brow and felt the swelling begin.

As the fans wailed about their perfect love story, a thought began to form in my mind.

Sure. Sylvia had mentioned this before. She had been promoting a fabricated romance between herself and this Jacques fellow as a marketing strategy. She insisted it was only to boost her company's visibility.

Then why were the fans presenting it as something real? Why did they make it sound as if there were genuine feelings between them?

I had endured enough of this spectacle.

"Enough," I shouted. "Sylvia will answer for this right now."

The crowd fell silent. Years of leading both my business and my family had given me a presence that even a disorderly crowd recognized.

With their eyes on me, I dialed Sylvia's number.

I called ten times before she finally answered.

"What happened to Belgard Estate, Sylvia?" I demanded.

"When are you going to stop bothering me?" she replied coldly. "Why should I explain myself to you? I can use the estate however I want. Get lost. Don't call me about this estate again. I don't have time for you."

The line went dead, and peals of laughter rippled through the crowd.

"He thinks he matters just because he has her private number! Too bad she didn't have time to entertain him!" someone jeered.

"This is embarrassing. You should leave before it gets worse, bum. If I were you, I would."

Melanie snickered. "I bet he's just another influencer who wanted to film something at this estate. Too bad he couldn't get in. Now he pesters Miss LePenn about it like a pathetic fool. He probably thinks he can trick his way into becoming her boyfriend."

I tightened my grip on the phone and ignored them.

Sylvia's tone confirmed what I had suspected. She had cheated.

We had been engaged for three years. No matter how busy she was, she had never hung up on me. She had never spoken to me in anything but a gentle, affectionate voice. The way she spoke just now was not normal.

The laughter continued, feeding my anger.

I called the city council.

"Hello. I am reclaiming my estate. No one is permitted to use it for any purpose from now on. Please send officers to Belgard to disperse this crowd."

The clerk sounded baffled. "No one is permitted to use it? What are you talking about? The estate was never lent out. It was leased, and at a high price. We paid 450,000 dollars.

"And didn't she give the estate to Jacques Martin? Incidents like this are why the mayor reconsidered working with the Vernon family. It has become too much."

The call ended, leaving me stunned.

They had paid 450,000 dollars. Why? The mayor and the Vernon family were close. Why would we charge them to use the estate? And if they paid, where had the money gone?

Sylvia would answer for this.

I turned to leave when a shrill scream pierced the air.

"Jaxie! Oh my God, hold me!"

"Jaxie, it's us! Your Jax-minnies are here!"

A young man approached, flanked by bodyguards. He moved at an unhurried pace, nodding and waving as he acknowledged his fans.

"Hello, Jax-minnies! I'm happy to see all of you! I can't wait to meet each of you in person!" he called. "Remember, meet-and-greet tickets are 214 dollars or 909 dollars. One represents the day of love, the other the day of my love."

He paused. "My majordomo informed me that a fan tried to enter Belgard through the back door. Who was it?"

The crowd answered with their stares.

I held my ground and met his gaze.

"Stop this. This is my estate, and I am not your fan," I said. "Belgard was meant to be available to influencers free of charge. Since when were tickets and rental fees required?"

Jacques looked at me with open contempt. "Since I made the rule. You have a problem with that? I had to carve out time to meet my fans. Time I could have spent on important work.

"Why shouldn't I charge for it? Or are you upset because you can't afford a ticket?"

His words incited the crowd.

Melanie urged several large men forward. They grabbed my arms so she could search my pockets.

"We'll find out soon enough whether he bought a ticket, Minnies," she declared.

She leaned closer to me. "Belgard is Jaxie's sanctuary. If you want in, you pay. And now that you've seen him, you owe him."

I struggled against their grip. Then something glinted at Jacques's waist.

A jeweled ornament I had purchased at auction for tens of thousands of dollars hung from his belt. I had displayed it on the estate's wall.

The sapphire ring on his finger caught the light. A master artisan of the 12th century had crafted it. I had placed it in the estate for visitors to admire.

Once I began to look, I saw it clearly. Every valuable item on that man's body had come from my estate.

These valuables were meant to remain locked behind secured glass boxes and cabinets. If that prick had managed to seize them and claim them as his own…

What would happen to everything else in Belgard?

My vision darkened. Anxiety and rage gave me the strength to wrench free from the men restraining me. "Unhand me! If any of you dare harm a hair on my head, I'll have the city deport every last one of you by tomorrow."

I knocked aside their hands and bolted into Belgard.

The first horror that greeted me was graffiti scrawled across the 10,000-dollar wine barrels: *Jacques Mightiest*. Every glass I had commissioned at great expense from master artisans bore a tacky tag that read, *Art, by Jacques.*

The drawing room, once lined with refined paintings by masters spanning centuries, had been stripped. The canvases lay heaped in a corner as though set out for a yard sale. In their place, an ugly canvas reading "Jacques and the Jax-Minnies" hung at the center of the wall.

Someone had smashed the glass cabinets that housed our diamonds, ceremonial tiaras, and art pieces. Every priceless antique was gone.

I had spent years shaping Belgard into what it was. Now it looked like the gutted shell of a nightclub.

Rage coursed through me.

To make matters worse, Jacques stood there snickering. "What do you think? My decorating style's pretty damn street, huh? Unlike yours. Yours suuucks. What are you, a vampire? Your decor made the place look like a museum. Get with the times, old fart."

So he knew that I was Belgard's true owner.

I clenched my fists and faced him with a tight smile. "Do you have any idea what my decor cost? You're nothing but a dirtbag influencer, Jacques. At your rate, you couldn't repay me in a decade."

He laughed. "Who the hell cares? My girlfriend's got the money."

He shot me a provoking look. "You must be Sylvia's dumbass fiancé. I get why she calls you an eyesore and a bore. Just look at you.

"I'll be real with you, dawg. If I asked, she'd hand over every cent in your family vault. She's that big a simp for me."

That did it.

I snatched up an ashtray and hurled it at him. "You piece of shit! I've never seen a homewrecking gigolo this shameless and proud. I swear, I'll take you down before Sylvia gets what's coming to her."

The ashtray had barely hit the floor when Melanie shrieked, "Oh my God! Minnies, this con man tried to hurt Jaxie!"

Jacques immediately arranged his features into a pitiful mask. "I was just trying to reason with you, man. You have to pay if you want to meet me. It's only fair you do that too. What's wrong with that? I even offered to cover your ticket if you can't afford it. Isn't that your dream come true?"

As expected, his fans turned into foot soldiers. Some livestreamed the chaos to "expose" me as a "fan." Others delivered breathless commentary.

Melanie took charge, urging the online audience to unleash their worst.

[Shameless! Disgusting! Jaxie doesn't deserve this blasphemy! I want to give him a hug!]

[You've done it now! I'm a Jax-minnie and a witch! I can curse you without even knowing your name. Jaxie will be protected!]

I surveyed the twisted faces and snarling glares in the crowd. Some looked amused. Some were eager to vilify me. Others chased the controversy for clout.

Not one of them spoke in my defense.

When I first opened Belgard to the public, I had thought of it as an act of generosity. People could use it without charge and build their online ventures. I had meant it as a public good.

I felt none of that goodwill now.

Jacques beamed at me as though he expected an apology. Instead, I called the International Vineyards & Wineries Association. "Hello. This is Richard Vernon, owner of the first-class Belgard Estate. My property is under IVWA protection. Both the estate and I are under serious threat. I am requesting immediate protection."

I ended the call and fixed Jacques with a hard stare. "From this moment on, Belgard is closed to the public. None of you will ever earn another dime on my estate."

Jacques' eyes flickered. He seemed to weigh how much of that was true.

Suddenly, Melanie cried out, "Oh my God, it's Miss LePenn! Jaxie, the queen is here! She must have seen the livestream and come to deal with him. You're so cooked, con man!"

A Rolls-Royce pulled up at the estate gate. William hurried forward to receive her.

I took a seat and waited for her to enter. "So, Sylvia, I trust you have a very good explanation for all of this?"