Chapter 87 The Owner of the Resort (Part 2)
Someone in the crowd spoke up, their voice sharp with indignation.
Blair's face went pale, her guilt plain for all to see.
Bianca's lips curved. "Right back at you."
The moment she had spotted Blair and her entourage trespassing, Bianca had called the resort manager. He should be here any moment now.
As if on cue, hurried footsteps echoed along the path.
A man in a crisp suit appeared, dabbing at his forehead with a white handkerchief, his expression harried.
"Which one of you is Ms. Rodriguez?"
Since her mother's death, Bianca had avoided the resort, too afraid of the memories it would stir. The manager knew her name but had never seen her in person.
Blair's composure cracked. She jumped in before anyone else could speak, her voice rising in forced outrage. "I knew it! You planned this whole thing, didn't you? You found out I was coming and hired someone to humiliate me!"
Tears pattered onto the wooden deck.
"Bianca, I've tried so hard to get along with you. Why can't you just leave me alone? Fine! This isn't my resort!"
Blair sucked in a shaky breath, her chin trembling. "I'll tell Dad. I won't fight you for it. If you want this place so badly, it's yours."
She covered her face with both hands, her shoulders shaking with feigned sobs.
Her friends immediately rallied around her, voices rising in a chorus of condemnation aimed at Bianca.
"Blair's always defending you behind your back, and this is how you repay her? You don't deserve her kindness."
"Why are we even surprised? All she cares about is money. Poor Blair. If this is how she gets treated when we're around, imagine what happens when we're not."
"I'm telling Glenn everything. You want the family fortune? I'll make sure you get nothing. He deserves to know what kind of person you really are."
The manager caught his breath and turned to Bianca, piecing together the situation from the fragments of conversation. He stepped in front of her, posture deferential.
"Ms. Rodriguez, I apologize. Since you rarely visit, the staff did not recognize you immediately. I hope this hasn't caused too much inconvenience."
"It's fine." Bianca lifted one hand in a dismissive gesture, her expression unbothered.
"Your mother, Ms. Daphne Morgan, transferred the resort into your name years ago. All that's left is your signature once you turn eighteen. I've brought the deed with me, if you'd like to finalize the transfer today."
He reached into his briefcase and produced a gold-embossed property document, offering it to her with a slight bow.
The murmuring crowd fell silent. Blair's fake tears dried instantly. Her face drained of color, teeth sinking into her lower lip hard enough to draw blood.
"No! You can't sign that!" Blair lunged forward.
Bianca raised an eyebrow. "If you really think this is all an act, why do you care? Just sit back and enjoy the show."
Blair's mouth pressed into a thin, bitter line.
She knew exactly who owned the resort. For years, she had been using Glenn's name to claim it as her own. If Bianca signed that document, she wouldn't just lose face—she would lose access entirely.
And she had already promised her friends they could celebrate her birthday here.
"Bianca, you want me to admit I was wrong? Fine. I admit it. This isn't mine. Are you happy now? I won't tell Dad about any of this. I just want us to get along. Can we please just drop it?"
Today's guests weren't just her usual crowd. There were people here she had been trying to impress—wealthy, connected people.
Everything had been going perfectly until Bianca showed up. Why today, of all days? Had she been spying? Planning this ambush just to humiliate her?
The more Blair thought about it, the more her rage simmered. But with so many eyes on her, she couldn't do a damn thing.
Bianca ignored her completely. She took the pen the manager offered and signed her name in two swift, decisive strokes.
The manager tucked the document back into his briefcase, a flicker of satisfaction crossing his eyes as he looked at Bianca.
"Ms. Rodriguez, would you like me to escort the unauthorized guests off the premises?"
His gaze slid toward Blair and her group.
Their faces flushed with humiliation. They had come here as invited guests, and now they were being thrown out like trespassers. The shame of it curdled into resentment, all of it aimed squarely at Blair.
"So she was lying the whole time. I knew something felt off about the way the staff was acting."
"What a waste. If I'd known, I wouldn't have come. Now we're getting kicked out like common criminals."
Bianca's smile remained polite, her tone measured. "This is the private section. If you'd like to stay and enjoy the resort, the public area is on the east side. The views there are just as beautiful."
She did not issue a direct order to leave.
After all, these people had been deceived by Blair. No need to make enemies unnecessarily.
"Blair, you're welcome to visit anytime. But I'll need you to settle your outstanding balance first." Bianca's eyes locked onto Blair's, unblinking, her smile never wavering.
Blair bit down on her lip so hard it went white. She shot Bianca one last venomous glare before turning on her heel and fleeing. Her exit was anything but graceful.
Once the crowd had dispersed, Bianca turned to the manager.
"Send the bill to the Rodriguez family. I trust you know what to do with the rest."
The manager nodded. "Of course, Ms. Rodriguez."
After he left, Bianca gently took Jasmine's hand.
"Now that the riffraff's gone, how about that hot spring? And we absolutely have to try the truffle chicken soup. It's what this place is famous for."
A breeze swept through the bamboo grove, carrying away the last traces of tension along with the chime of copper bells and Jasmine's laughter.
The two of them stepped barefoot into the hot spring.
The water was warm, almost hot, and the heat sank into Bianca's skin the moment she submerged herself. A sigh escaped her lips before she could stop it.
Steam rose in lazy spirals, softening the edges of thought, dissolving worry, leaving only contentment behind.
Jasmine's small hand landed on Bianca's shoulder, fingers tracing the smooth skin there.
"Bianca, your skin is so soft. Mine's rough in comparison. I wish I had skin like yours."
Her voice was wistful, but there wasn't a trace of envy in it—just honest admiration.
Bianca reached out and touched Jasmine's arm gently.
"Beauty isn't one-size-fits-all. Everyone has something unique about them. Your skin is smooth, it has a glow to it. You look healthy. Vibrant."
Her expression was sincere.
Jasmine stared into Bianca's bright eyes and swallowed hard. The water suddenly felt warmer than it had a moment ago.