Chapter 19: One Janitor-Saboteur and Two Crazy Latinas.

February 5, 6:30 PM. Château des Rêves, Alex and Kate’s room.
Alex lies asleep on the giant fold-out couch-bed, a white pillow under his head. He wears loose gray shorts, black socks, and a relaxed white T-shirt. His shorts sit slightly lowered, his soft length resting against the stained blue pillow he clutches between his legs.
“Alex!” A quiet but insistent whisper cuts through the room. Alex tries to open his eyes but keeps them shut. The whisper grows sharper. “Blyat… Alex!” A Russian accent slips in.
It sounds like a soft female voice.
Alex opens his eyes and sees Daria leaning over him, her face concerned. She wears blue denim shorts and a black T-shirt.
“Alex, wake up. This is urgent,” Daria says, tucking a strand of her dark bobbed hair behind her ear. She ignores his exposed cock, though she clearly noticed the aftermath before waking him.
Alex jumps up from the couch-bed and tucks himself back into his shorts. He glances at the closed door, then back at Daria as he sits on the edge.
“Yeah, perfect… You know, soon Kate and I are going to start locking this room.” He sighs. “Alright, spare me the lecture. I know Becky and Lila recently initiated you into the sailor guardians, so now you’re not just Kate’s caddie but also the guardian of King Serenity—that is, me.” Alex says with exaggerated sarcasm. “So what’s so urgent that you had to drag me out of sleep after my pillow fuck, huh? And don’t start with Brian and Kate—I know they’re on their date, and that’s strictly between Kate and me…” He pauses. “…Well, and Lila. So what’s the emergency? Just don’t tell me someone in our glorious Château des Rêves actually overdosed on weed. You can’t even die from that, but somehow I’m sure our freaks could manage it. Okay, so what is it?”
Daria presses her lips together, her eyes darting to the side before she fixes Alex with a serious gaze. “We have a problem with the security system.”
Alex stays silent for a couple of seconds, blinking in surprise. “What do you mean, ‘problem with the security system’? This is Dreamside. For our mansion to even have something like that, a potential intruder would first have to get into the town. And you know they don’t let outsiders past the Tourist District. Did Jocelyn catch the intruder? How are Amy and Madi—they must know already, right? They’re the first ones to be informed about something like this.”
Daria sighs and rolls her eyes, leaning against the kitchen counter. “Jocelyn didn’t catch anything concrete, just some inconsistencies in the perimeter alerts. Like someone was poking around outside, testing the systems, but not actually breaching them. But that’s what worries me—they knew enough about our security to not trigger any obvious alarms. That’s not some random kid trying to sneak in for a dare.”
She crosses her arms, her expression troubled. “Madi’s been reviewing the system logs, trying to figure out if it was just a glitch or if someone’s actually been messing with it. She’s really freaked out about it.”
Alex sighs. “Alright… Give me at least twenty minutes. I need to take a shower and change. Don’t want to reek of sweat.”
February 5, 7:00 PM. Château des Rêves, first floor, Jocelyn’s office.
Alex stands in Jocelyn’s spacious office with Jocelyn, Daria, Amy, Lila, Becky, and Kae. Madi sits at the desk, scrolling through the system logs.
Jocelyn wears a black T-shirt and black leather pants. Daria has on blue denim shorts and a black T-shirt. Amy wears a light unbuttoned black blazer over a white shirt with black pants. Lila is in a high-waisted black T-shirt and gray shorts. Becky wears a yellow bra and yellow shorts. Kae has a black bra with the word “fuck” printed in white across both cups, paired with black shorts. Madi wears a blue T-shirt and gray pants. Alex wears a white T-shirt and black shorts.
“Jocelyn, it couldn’t have been a ghost or something like that… That’s just nonsense…” Madi says softly in her gentle voice, peering at the multiple monitors on Jocelyn’s desk.
“So someone got past all the electrified barbed wire, cameras, guards with dogs, and everything else around Dreamside.” Alex traces a circle in the air with his finger. “Then made it all the way to our mansion and stirred up… something?”
“No. It’s not possible to get through Dreamside’s security unless you have the highest clearance,” Jocelyn says firmly, arms crossed. She leans against the wall, posture relaxed but eyes sharp. “Someone inside did this.”
Amy exhales and rubs her temple. “That’s what I’m afraid of. The logs show the system accessed through internal permissions, not external breach points.” She gestures to the screens where Madi scrolls. “Looks like someone ran diagnostics on the outer perimeter sensors and checked access routes. But they never actually triggered an alarm.”
Becky leans forward on the desk, elbows on the surface. “So we have a traitor? That’s fucking gross.”
Alex sighs and stares up at the ceiling. “Well, unless it’s some kind of supervillain who tunneled under the town’s defenses and slipped past the cameras, laser sensors, guards, and dogs unnoticed… then it really has to be someone from the inside.” He shifts his gaze toward Madi, who sits at the desk scanning the system logs. “Goddamn it, ever since Aria showed up here on Saturday, it’s been one mess after another. And now Kate went off just an hour ago…” He trails off, glancing toward Jocelyn. He is not sure if the head of security knows about the new dynamic between him, Kate, and Brian—or that Kate is currently out on a date with Brian at the Topanga Canyon Inn.
Jocelyn’s sharp gaze flickers across Alex’s face, though she does not comment on his unspoken concern. Instead, she moves to the side of the desk and stands near Madi as she studies the data. “I’ll have my guys check all the security footage again. We missed something.”
Amy nods, frowning. “Could be someone’s got a grudge against the house, or against Alex… or Kate.” She glances at Alex sympathetically. “We all know how… complicated things have been lately.”
Becky snorts and rolls her eyes. “Yeah, complicated. That’s a fucking understatement.” She looks at Alex. “You okay, Short Tail?”
Alex snorts. “Oh, I’m fine, Becky…” He sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “Alright, girls… Once Kate gets back from her business meeting…” At this, Becky giggles, and Alex shoots her an annoyed look before he continues. “…fill her in on all the details.” He turns his gaze to Jocelyn. “Should I barricade the windows in my room with Kate, in my office, and in her art studio, or what?”
Amy smirks and shakes her head. “I wouldn’t recommend barricading yourself in. That’s exactly what someone wants you to do.” She leans forward, crossing her arms. “If this was a normal break-in, yeah, sure. But whoever did this went through a lot of effort to be methodical about it. They didn’t steal anything. They’re just gathering information. For now. Watching patterns.”
Becky frowns. “So maybe they’re waiting for something. Or someone.” She glances meaningfully at Alex.
Jocelyn’s jaw tightens. “We’ll double the patrols around the property. Reinforce the security doors.”
Alex looks at Becky, who leans on the desk with her elbows. “You think they’re just waiting for Kate to get back? Why didn’t they do what they wanted last night when she was here?” Then he shifts his gaze to Jocelyn. “Alright, fine—cordon off the main building. But the grounds of Château des Rêves aren’t exactly tiny. You can’t cover every building with just fifty people, can you? Maybe we should call the guys from DHOA* while…” Alex sighs. “You’re not getting more staff.” Then he smirks slightly and theatrically raises his index finger like an old man grumbling. “And we never had this problem with the last mayor!”
Jocelyn narrows her gaze. “Cops? We don’t know what we’re dealing with yet. This could be political, personal, or just some idiot fucking with us. If we bring the DHOA Security Service in now, all it does is create paperwork and Dreamside media attention.” She turns to Amy. “Thoughts?”
Amy taps her fingers against the desk, considering. “I don’t think this is personal. If it were, they would’ve done something more direct—like break in when Kate was home, not just snoop around. And I don’t think it’s political either. Dreamside is always more stable in this regard than Los Angeles…”
Becky snorts. “Bullshit. Nothing’s ever stable here. Remember that time some freak tried to blackmail our beloved hostess next door in Cocoavilla by sending nudes of Aria to every gossip site?” She shifts her weight and crosses her arms. “Hell, we had some crazy Kate fan break into Château des Rêves last year.” She smirks at Alex. “Not that it mattered much. You just cried about it later.”
Alex scowls. “I did not cry.”
“Sure, Short Tail.” Becky jumps onto Jocelyn’s desk, sits on it, and dangles her legs. “You just hyperventilated and hid in Madi’s office until Kate got home.”
Jocelyn clears her throat. “Can we focus?”
Alex sighs. “If it was someone from our people, then we need to check all five hundred of them.” He frowns. “Fuck, I don’t even know how many people live at our place.” He shifts uncomfortably from foot to foot. “How many of us are here? Exact number? Maybe we should just check everyone?”
Amy’s face tightens. “Five hundred and thirty-two on the last count. That includes seasonal staff and the gardeners who come in twice a week. Realistically, we need to focus on the permanent residents and security detail.”
Becky raises a brow. “That’s still a lot of people.”
“I know,” Jocelyn mutters, rubbing her temple. “But if we miss even one, we’re screwed. Someone’s been in here, and they know their way around. They weren’t just poking around. Whoever it was had access to restricted areas, like the archive wing and Kate’s art studio.”
Alex inhales sharply. “Her art studio?” He looks at Becky, whose face stays unreadable. “Becky, you’re her personal assistant. Everything related to her falls under your responsibility. Recall everything you can.” He crosses his arms. “And yeah, that crazy fan got kicked out of Dreamside and taken to some insane asylum. Serves him right. Aria’s nudes? Everyone liked them. At least me and her. Probably she leaked them herself.”
Becky throws her head back and laughs. “God, I love how delusional you are sometimes. Aria did not leak her own nudes, Short Tail. That was someone with an axe to grind.”
Jocelyn lets out a slow breath. “Guys. Stop bringing up last year’s shit. Okay. So. Five hundred and thirty-two people. We need to narrow this down. We can rule out the maintenance crew—they have separate quarters. Most gardeners come and go, except Elektra and a few others. Same with the seasonal staff. That leaves…”
“Four hundred and twenty permanent residents,” Amy supplies.
Becky hops off the desk and stretches. “Four hundred and twenty people to interrogate? Fuck that.” She cracks her neck. “We’re not the FBI. We need to think like a creep. Who would want to sneak around a mansion full of rich, hot people? Besides everyone.”
Madi, who’s been quietly scrolling through security logs on Jocelyn’s PC, looks up. Her expression is grim. “It’s not just about wanting to. It’s about being able to. The person who did this bypassed three separate security protocols. They knew the blind spots in the camera coverage and the shift changes. This was an inside job, or someone with inside help.”
Amy nods, arms crossed tightly. Alex pushes off the wall and stretches. “Fuck. So what’s the plan? Jocelyn, you handle it—it’s your area of responsibility.”
Jocelyn glares at him. “My area of responsibility?” She takes a step forward and slams her hand on the desk, sending papers fluttering. “I’m head of security, not a goddamn detective.”
Alex jumps back. “Okay, I spoke without thinking. Just don’t hit me, Wonder Woman—I’d be in the morgue from one of your strikes.” He sighs. “So… are we hiring a detective?”
Jocelyn exhales through her nose, shaking her head. “No, we are not hiring a detective. If word gets out that we need outside help, tomorrow the whole Dreamside will be talking about it.” She straightens and rubs her temples. “We handle this in-house. I’ll pull security footage, cross-reference staff schedules, and start grilling people myself.”
Becky crosses her arms. “And what about all the Château’s area cameras? They were bypassed, Jos. That means someone knew the blind spots and the schedule changes. We’re looking at someone on the inside or with inside information.” She tilts her head. “Any new hires recently?”
Jocelyn nods. “Three maintenance workers.” She walks over to Madi at the desk and types a few commands, pulling up staff records. “Three new maintenance guys started last month. One plumber, two general. All have clean backgrounds, but that means nothing. Any of them could’ve had access to old security schematics.” Her knuckles press white against the polished wood. “Clean backgrounds don’t mean shit if they had a mentor on the inside. Madi, pull their onboarding files. I want to know who trained them, who they’ve been seen with on breaks, everything.”
The air in the security office hangs thick with tension that has nothing to do with usual mansion gossip. This is a violation. Professional for Jocelyn. Deeply personal for the rest of them.
Alex shoves his hands in his pockets, feeling useless. His domain is books and fantasy, not this gritty intrusion. Madi and Jocelyn check the system logs.
In a quiet but nervous voice, Madi says, “The breach happened an hour ago, at 6 PM. They wouldn’t have been able to cover all the traces.” Her face lights up. “Oh, look! Jocelyn!”
Jocelyn leans closer. “Son of a bitch.” She turns to the group. “We’ve got a timestamp. Whoever it was accessed the system at 6:12 PM. That means we can narrow it down to staff who were on duty or logged in remotely at that time.”
Becky shifts over and leans in, studying the logs over Madi’s shoulder. “And who was on shift right then?”
The blonde doctor scrolls through the list, fingers tapping lightly. “Let’s see…” She hums softly. “Maintenance crew on the west wing—plumber and two general. Cooks in the kitchen. Security at the gates. And—“ She pauses, zooming in on a name. “Jonas. The new night janitor.”
Alex blinks. “Wait… the janitor? That little fucker somehow—“ He shakes his head. “I mean… he’s just a regular janitor. How the hell did he hack our system?”
Jocelyn crosses her arms. “Jonas. When did he start?”
“Two weeks ago,” Madi says. “He had the right access, and he was scheduled to be alone in the east wing during that time frame.”
Becky snorts. “Convenient.”
Jocelyn exhales sharply through her nose and pulls up a personnel file. “Jonas Torres. Forty-two years old.”
“Why would a janitor attack the security system?” Alex asks. He steps up to Jocelyn’s desk and looks at one of the monitors. “It’s not like Kate has enemies like that. And as for me—no one in the public even knows I wrote those books that stole the audience from Erika Mitchell… or E. L. James? Guess the old lady doesn’t even get the point of pen names.” Alex lets out a short chuckle. “Anyway, Jocelyn, what do we have on him?”
Jocelyn’s fingers fly across the keyboard as she pulls up Jonas Torres’s full profile. “Clean record. Came highly recommended from a temp agency Mayor Navari’s office sometimes uses. Background check was… minimal.” She shoots a look at Becky. “That’s on us. We got lax after the holiday season.”
Becky grimaces. “He seemed quiet. Kept to himself. Always had earbuds in.”
Alex sighs. “Fuck… Jocelyn, have your people grab him and put him through questioning. If need be, we’ll rope the cops in. But keep it quiet. Goddammit—we hadn’t had any trouble while we hired through Kate’s ‘friends and friends-of-friends’ pipeline. Looks like we’ll have to go back to the nepo-HR practice.”
Jocelyn is already on her comms, voice low and clipped. “Security team, detain Jonas Torres. Now. Bring him to the Blue Room. No cuffs, but don’t let him touch anything.” She glances at Alex, her expression grim. “We’ll handle this internally first. If he’s working for someone, I want to know before the DHOA Security Service muddies the waters with paperwork and rights readings.”
Becky shifts and crosses her arms. “You think he’s a plant? For what? To steal Alex’s unpublished manuscripts? Or Kate’s paintings and golf trophies.”
Alex straightens up, still standing by Jocelyn’s desk, and fixes Becky with a defiant look, arms crossed. “Or maybe it’s one of your enemies, Becky? Did you laugh at his dick too? Is this beef coming from your modeling side or your designer side? Which one of your colleagues sent the spy?” He says it with a grin. “Or maybe you already mocked him here in the mansion, and it turns out he’s a hacker?”
Becky’s expression darkens as she steps forward, black hair swinging with the movement. “My dick jokes are for you alone, Short Tail,” she snaps, eyes flashing. “I don’t know why you’re deflecting. Since when do you give a shit about who I mess with? You only care when your precious Baby Boy status is threatened.”
Alex is clearly amused and itching for a fight.
“ICE is crying for you, Becky,” Alex chuckles. “Fuck, four years of mocking my dick. You’re such a—“ He tries to find a word sharp enough to jab at her without crossing the line, but his rant cuts short when Lila steps in.
“Alex, cool it. You can keep your bullshit fights with Becky later, after we deal with this fucking Torres.”
Alex calms down. His expression darkens as his eyes flick over Becky’s yellow bra and yellow shorts. “Same disgusting toxic color as you,” he mutters quietly, not looking at her. Then he steps away from Jocelyn’s desk and sinks into a chair in the corner of the office, lost in his thoughts.
Becky rolls her eyes dramatically and tosses her long black hair over her shoulder. “Look at him, sulking like a brat who lost his favorite toy.” She saunters over to Alex’s chair, leans down, and whispers with a smirk. “What’s wrong, Short Tail? Finally realized your Baby Boy charm can’t fix everything?” Her breath is warm against his ear, and for just a second he flinches before he rebuilds his walls.
“Security’s got him,” Jocelyn announces, glancing at her tablet. “Blue Room in five minutes.” She gives Alex a once-over before turning to Becky. “You think this has anything to do with your little public feud with Marisol Pérez?”
The air in Jocelyn’s office shifts from tense to electric. Becky straightens up, her smirk evaporating. “Marisol? That was two years ago. Over a fucking swimwear campaign. She wouldn’t—“
“She’s ambitious, she’s connected, and she holds a grudge,” Jocelyn cuts in, her voice flat. “You called her signature ‘Dansunshot’ line ‘clown makeup for desperate influencers’ on a very public livestream. She tried to have you blacklisted.”
Alex, from his corner, lets out a short laugh. “Damn, Becky. You really know how to make friends.”
“Shut up, Alex,” Becky hisses. Alex rolls his eyes.
“Come on, Becky. I still side with my girlfriend’s personal assistant, even despite the teasing about my dick. And I always say Nádherná Beauty is better.” He shrugs lightly and giggles. “I’d use your makeup myself, Becky, if I were a girl—or some kind of genderqueer.”
“Oh my god,” Becky groans, planting her hands on her hips. “You are such a dork, Short Tail.” She stares at him with exasperation, but there’s no real heat in it. If anything, she looks almost fond. She quickly shakes her head and turns back to Jocelyn. “So you’re saying Marisol might’ve hired Torres to get back at me? For something that happened two years ago?” She crosses her arms, pushing her chest out slightly. “That’s petty as hell.”
Jocelyn taps her pen against the desk. “Or maybe it’s just a coincidence. But coincidences are rare in our world.” She leans back in her chair. “Time to go to the Blue Room.”
February 5, 7:15 PM. Château des Rêves, the basement level of the security annex, the Blue Room.
The interrogation begins.
Jonas Torres, a 42-year-old night janitor at Château des Rêves who started working in the mansion just two weeks ago, sits on a metal chair at the rectangular blue table. He is not handcuffed, but the man looks noticeably nervous. Jonas wears loose gray trousers and a loose gray short-sleeved shirt.
Two men in strict but casual quasi-military attire stand on his left and right—Jocelyn’s team.
Jocelyn herself sits across from him, dressed in a black T-shirt and black leather pants.
Daria, Lila, Kae, Amy, Madi, and Becky stand in the soundproof observation zone. Jonas cannot see or hear them, but they see and hear everything clearly.
Alex is not in the Blue Room. He refused to attend, saying the Blue Room feels too much like a police or intelligence office, something he prefers to avoid because of negative experiences in his “past life.”
“Damn, that’s a slip-up on my part…” Kae says, watching intently as an angry Jocelyn sits down across from the frightened Jonas. “Though… I’m not very savvy with all these computer things. I only use them for my media, mostly Instagram and OnlyFans. And all my guys who set up my OnlyFans either overdosed or ended up in jail.” She notices Lila’s side-eye. “What? My life before Dreamside wasn’t exactly sweet…” Kae tugs lightly at her septum ring. “Just a little bit sugary.”
Becky snorts at the comment without taking her eyes off the one-way glass. “Overdosed or in jail? Sounds like my kind of résumé. No wonder you fit right in here.” She speaks quietly, remembering her own family’s financial problems when she was a child.
Inside the Blue Room, Jocelyn leans forward. Her voice is a low, calm blade. “Jonas. The sooner you confess everything, the sooner we finish. Are you that good of a hacker? Or did someone help you? We saw you log into the system at 6:12 p.m. What were you looking for, and who hired you?”
The air in the observation zone feels thick with stale coffee and tension. Becky’s knuckles turn white as she grips the edge of the console, her gaze fixed on the scene below. Through the one-way glass, Jonas Torres looks small and hunched in the metal chair under the sterile blue light.
Jocelyn does not loom. She simply occupies space with undeniable gravity. Her fitted black security shirt stretches across her shoulders. She is not yelling. She does not need to.
“Jonas,” she says again, her voice a low, calm blade.
“Uh… her name was Marisol,” Jonas answers nervously, his voice faltering. “She gave me the instructions and all those devices… She said I needed to scare some ‘bitch’ living here, and it wasn’t Ms. Norwin…” Jonas trembles slightly. “I swear, I wasn’t going to steal anything, just scare some Becky…” He wrings his hands and presses himself deeper into the chair. “They paid me a lot, way more than I ever made before… Damn, I screwed up, yeah…”
Becky’s entire posture stiffens. Her knuckles go bone-pale. A low, guttural sound escapes her throat, something between a scoff and a snarl. “Marisol,” she breathes out. The name sounds like a curse. “That two-bit, knock-off-hustling puta. I knew it.”
On the other side of the glass, Jocelyn does not flinch. Her expression stays a placid mask, but her eyes sharpen. “Scare Becky Alvarez. Elaborate. How?”
Jonas shrinks further. “She… she said the bitch needed to remember her place.”
Kae, standing next to Becky, smirks as she looks through the glass at Jonas and Jocelyn. She glances sideways at Becky. “Oh, Alex was right. This wasn’t about him or Kate. Makes sense—our sweetest Dreamside couple doesn’t make enemies as fast as you do, Becky.”
Amy sighs while she watches. Madi lightly wraps one arm around her. “Poor Alex. First the whole mess with Kate, Aria, and Brian, and now this…”
Daria and Lila stand between them, silently watching. Becky does not move. She does not blink. The name Marisol freezes her in place like a trigger word. Through the glass, Jonas keeps rambling about instructions and devices, but Becky no longer listens. Her grip on the console tightens until the leather creaks under her fingers.
“Marisol,” she repeats, the word venomous on her tongue. “Fucking Marisol.” The color drains from her face. She speaks in a low, dangerous murmur. “That bitch. That cheap-ass, trashy bitch.”
Kae sighs and turns her whole body toward Becky, crossing her arms over her chest. “So Marisol’s coming after you just because you called her cosmetic line ‘clown makeup for desperate influencers’?” She shoots a glance at Madi, Amy, and Daria, then looks through the glass at Jocelyn pressing Jonas for details before turning back to Becky. “Or is there something more, Becky? Spit it out, you fucking mamasita. As long as you’re living in Château des Rêves, conflicts like this are everyone’s business.”
Becky’s jaw tightens. She doesn’t look at Kae. Her eyes stay fixed on Jonas through the one-way glass. “It’s not just the clown makeup comment, though that was a fucking masterpiece if I do say so myself.” A bitter, humorless smirk twists her lips. “She tried to poach my head chemist last year. Offered him double, a company car, the whole corporate fantasy. He came to me and told me everything. I matched the offer and then some, but I also made sure every supplier from here to Milan knows she operates with zero ethics. That bitch doesn’t just sell bad highlighters. She sells betrayal in a compact.”
Kae lets out a short chuckle and rolls her eyes. “Oh, this is gonna be epic. Does your bestie-slash-boss know about this?” she asks, meaning Kate. “You do know our Katy really doesn’t like all that drama, right?”
Becky scoffs, a sharp, ugly sound. “Katy’s got her own shit to deal with, doesn’t she? Between her Baby Boy pouting in his office and her new main event warming up for his grand entrance.” She finally tears her gaze from Jonas. Her eyes flash with a mix of rage and dark amusement. “No, she doesn’t know. And she’s not gonna. This is my fucking mess. Marisol wants to play dirty? Fine. I didn’t build my brand from my garage by being nice.”
Daria, who’s been leaning against the wall silently, pushes off. “So what’s the play, Becky?”
“Becky’s gonna do whatever we all decide together,” Kae cuts in, looking at Daria, then at Madi, Amy, and Lila before locking her gaze back on Becky. “And yeah, you’re right. Kate’s busy with her own stuff with Brian. They’re probably already fucking in Topanga.”
The girls don’t notice that the interrogation has ended. A satisfied Jocelyn comes out to them, rolling her shoulders and adjusting her black T-shirt.
“So, what’s the situation?” Amy asks Jocelyn as she fixes her light unbuttoned black blazer over a white shirt.
Jocelyn crosses her arms and scans the faces of the women in the room before settling her attention on Becky. “According to Jonas, Marisol’s been recruiting from inside your company. Looks like she’s playing the long game.”
Becky exhales sharply and shakes her head. “Fuck. I knew that bitch was desperate, but going after my people again?” She glances at Jocelyn. “What else did he say?”
Jocelyn tilts her head. “He gave us a name—someone in your finance department, a guy named Lance. Claims he’s been feeding Marisol intel for months.” She pauses, studying Becky’s reaction. “Also mentioned something about a partnership proposal.”
Madi lets out a heavy sigh and adjusts her blue T-shirt and gray pants, a nervous look on her face. “So… it’s just corporate drama…” she says softly, then adds more harshly, “But that doesn’t matter, Jocelyn. He trespassed on private property—and not just any property, a private residential estate. Call the DHOA Security Service. If Marisol thinks the U.S. is—“
Lila cuts Madi off. “If Marisol thinks the U.S. is her stinking Venezuela, she’s dead wrong. Call the cops, Jocelyn. No point hesitating. And Jonas should’ve thought ahead about what he was getting into.” Lila straightens her high-waisted black T-shirt as she speaks.
Becky’s face twitches as she listens. She scoffs and shakes her head. “You really think reporting to the Dreamside police will get Marisol to back off?” Her fingers curl into fists at her sides. “This isn’t some petty stalker shit, Lila. This is business warfare.”
Jocelyn leans back against the wall, arms still crossed. “So what are you proposing? Retaliation?” She eyes Becky with something close to amusement. “I’m surprised you’re not already hatching a plan.”
Becky glares at her, then exhales through her nose. “I’m thinking.” She turns to Madi. “You’re into this legal shit—what happens if we report it? They’ll charge him with abuse of position, right?”
Madi nods. “Yes, and more if he had malicious intent. But unless we can prove this Lance guy is an active part of it, all we get is some low-level corporate espionage.”
Amy rolls her eyes. “Which means what, exactly?”
“Means,” Madi says, shrugging, “we file a report, Marisol pays a fine or maybe gets slapped with some business sanctions. She won’t like it, but it won’t cripple her.”
Lila snorts. “Not just a general practitioner, but also a lawyer.” She looks at Madi with amusement and admiration.
Amy sighs. “Madi, I think you and I should check on Alex. We can’t let… well, you know.” She hints at the risk of Alex’s panic attacks returning. “I think Becky, Kae, and Jocelyn can handle things here on their own.” She rolls her neck. “And yeah, we need to go back to the old system for hiring staff.”
Jocelyn studies Amy for a moment before nodding. “Alright. We’ll handle things here.” She turns her attention to Becky, who looks like she’s already three steps ahead in whatever plan she’s forming.
Madi speaks as she walks toward the exit of the Blue Room. “Call Alex’s and Kate’s personal lawyers—Elena and Felicity. They are the strongest defense we have, I believe. Just don’t tell Kate yet. She’s…” Madi stops in the doorway, looking at Jocelyn before she continues. “On a date with Brian right now.”
Kae rolls her eyes. “She already knows, Madi.”
“Of course she knows…” Amy says with a sigh, moving closer to Madi to leave with her. “Our butler is the main source of all news and gossip for… everyone.”
Kae watches Amy and Madi leave before turning back to the others. She places her hands on her hips and examines Becky with an amused glint in her eye. “So, Miss CEO of Nádherná Beauty… what are you thinking, hmm?”
Becky inhales sharply through her nose, her fingers still twitching slightly at her sides. She paces in a slow, controlled circle before stopping in front of Kae, standing just inches from her. “I’m thinking,” she says, her words barely audible now, “that this isn’t just business for Marisol. This is personal.”
Jocelyn raises an eyebrow. “Personal how?”
Becky exhales slowly, her jaw tightening. “Because she wants to hit me where it hurts. And she knows I wouldn’t just file a police report and call it a day.” She glances toward the door where Madi and Amy disappeared. “Madi’s right about the law—I know how that shit works.”
Kae crosses her arms and looks at Becky with a smirk. “Well, lay it on.”
Lore:
* The Dreamside Homeowner Association (DHOA) is a private, legally registered organization that has managed Dreamside since its founding in 1995 as a gated community. When Dreamside became an officially gated town of SACZ, the DHOA began functioning as the town’s security force and diplomatic body, ensuring both exclusivity and protection from outside interference. Some residents of Dreamside simply call them “the police.”