Violet couldn''t help but feel a secret thrill inside.


    McNeil had been almost absurdly attentive to her, and she followed him toward the front gate.


    Sure enough, a crowd had gathered outside Marcus''s vi.


    As soon as Violet stepped out, a storm of cameras erupted-reporters and paparazzi raising their long lenses, snapping away at her and McNeil as if their lives depended on it.


    "Ms. Marchand, look over here!"


    "Ms. Marchand, you look stunning today!"


    "Ms. Marchand, I love you! I want to give you everything I have!"


    Someone in the crowd boldly shouted their love for Violet, right in front of McNeil.


    More admirers followed suit, tossing bouquets over the fence, gifts of all sizes raining down into Marcus''s garden.


    It was tulip season, and Marcus''s garden was overflowing with rare and beautiful blooms. Now, those treasured flowers were being battered and crushed beneath the avnche of presents.


    "Thank you, everyone, for your affection," Violet called out, her smile gentle but firm. "But this is private property, so I have to ask you all to head home."


    "Ms. Marchand, when will we see you back on the F1 circuit? We''d do anything to see justice for what happened to you in that crash!"


    "That''s right! There are people online pretending to be you, using your name for all sorts of scams!"


    What was supposed to be a quiet weekend gathering with McNeil''s friends had turned into a full-blown fan convention.


    Whenever Violet went out with McNeil, she always dressed to impress. In moments like these, she was every bit the movie star-radiant and dazzling.


    "Thank you for your concern," she replied graciously. "You can see for yourselves I''m standing here perfectly fine. The ident didn''t leave anysting damage. As for people impersonating me online, I don''t n to make a fuss about it. The truth speaks for itself."


    Violet stood poised just inside the vi, as close to the fans as possible, tall and graceful, exuding effortless charm.


    She answered every question with patience and warmth, her sincerity only fueling her fans'' fervor. Some especially enthusiastic admirers even looked ready to climb the fence into Marcus''s yard.


    Sensing things were spiraling out of control, McNeil called his security team for backup.


    "They''ve gone too far, we need to get inside," he said, shielding Violet. Every time she made a public appearance, chaos seemed to follow-and McNeil was growing weary of it.


    "I''m sorry, McNeil. I had no idea they''d manage to track us down here," Violet apologized, genuinely distressed by the trouble she''d caused.


    McNeil nced at Marcus''s trampled flowerbeds and ruined greenery, his expression darkening. "Let''s get inside. Don''te out again."


    If Violet stayed any longer, Marcus was going to need a full garden renovation.


    McNeil was about to escort her away when, out of nowhere, a bouquetnded squarely in Violet''s arms, hitting her chest. Luckily, it wasn''t heavy, but the fans outside were now screaming uncontrobly.


    Marcus and the others had been watching themotion from the third floor, picking the best vantage point.


    Seeing his carefully tended garden destroyed left Marcus in a foul mood.


    Isaac was stunned. "What did Violet do to get this famous? Did one of you make her a movie star overnight?"


    Marcus shot a re at Curtis.


    Curtis just shrugged, "She''s only ourpany''s vice president."


    Marcus''s scowl deepened. "Isaac, next time you want to invite them both, have the party at your ce."


    Isaac could only sigh.


    Dinner ns for the night, already tense after the incident with the racecar model, were scrapped altogether.


    "Marcus, I''m so sorry. I really didn''t expect my fans to follow us here and wreck your garden," Violet fretted.


    "McNeil..." she started, hoping he''d help smooth things over.


    McNeil just said, "Next time, don''t nt so many expensive flowers out front."


    Marcus''s face turned thunderous.


    Curtis wanted to offer somefort, but for once, he was at a loss for words.


    Isaac watched McNeil, noticing something off-his animosity toward Marcus seemed even stronger than Curtis''s.


    McNeil hustled Violet and Gwh into his SUV.


    Marcus red at the racecar model cradled in Gwh''s arms.


    Gwh could feel the deadly stares from both Mr. Green and Mr. Garcia. She clutched the model tighter, hiding it behind her back.


    When the driver pulled up, Gwh dove into the car with her prize, not even remembering to wave goodbye.


    Max, who''d snatched the model from his uncle earlier, didn''t have the nerve to see her off.


    Isaac still looked puzzled. "Did something happen between you guys and McNeil while I was away? He looks like he''s ready to kill someone."


    Curtis and Marcus said nothing. Curtis headed off to get his car, his footsteps heavy with frustration.


    Isaac followed him out, Marcus seeing them to the door. Still, Isaac couldn''t shake the feeling that Marcus wasn''t seeing them off-he was kicking them out.