"I won''t apologize for standing up for someone who can''t defend themselves," I said firmly, watching the female streamer—Yoyo—stomp away in humiliation.


    The construction worker approached me, gratitude etched across his weathered face. "Thank you, sir. Not many would''ve stepped in like that."


    I nodded, remembering all too well how it felt to be powerless. "Everyone deserves dignity."


    Before I could say more, Yoyo whirled around, her face contorted with rage. She''d been filming on a second phone, and now she thrust it toward me, broadcasting live.


    "You think you''re some kind of hero?" she shrieked. "My followers will destroy you! Do you even know who I am?"


    I stepped closer, my patience evaporating. "No, and I don''t care. What I do know is that you''re a bully who gets off on humiliating others for clicks."


    Her eyes widened at my directness. "How dare you! I have three million followers!"


    "And not an ounce of decency," I replied coolly. "Put the phone down."


    She backed away, still filming. "Make me!"


    Something snapped inside me. I moved forward with deliberate steps, noting how she flinched when I entered her personal space. Without breaking eye contact, I plucked the phone from her hands.


    "What are you—" she began.


    "Enough," I said, holding the phone up to address her audience directly. "To everyone watching—is this really who you want to support? Someone who demands a working man lick her shoes over an idental scuff?"


    Yoyo lunged for the phone, but I easily held it out of reach.


    "Give it back!" she demanded.


    "When you kneel and apologize to that man," I countered. "Seems fair, doesn''t it? The same humiliation you wanted to inflict on him?"


    Her expression shifted from anger to shock, then to calction. Slowly, with theatrical reluctance, she lowered herself to her knees, clearly thinking this would make her look sympathetic to her viewers.


    "I''m sorry," she said tly to the worker, her eyes hard as stones.


    The construction worker looked ufortable. "It''s okay, sir. I don''t need this."


    I handed him the phone. "The choice is yours."


    He hesitated, then returned it to Yoyo, who snatched it back triumphantly.


    "You''ll regret this," she hissed at me, then turned again to her livestream. "Did you all see how this man assaulted me? He forced me to kneel! I''m going to sue—"


    Before she could finish, I took the phone again and dropped it on the ground. The screen cracked satisfyingly against the concrete.


    Yoyo''s mouth fell open. "You—you broke my phone! Do you know how expensive that was?"


    "Less expensive than a man''s dignity," I replied. "Now leave before I decide to break the other one too."


    She backed away, grabbing her remaining phone and tripod.


    "You haven''t heard thest of this!" she threatened, voice quavering.


    I turned my back on her, effectively dismissing her from my mind. Eamon gave me a slight nod of approval while Niamh looked nervous but impressed.


    "Liam? Is that you?"


    I turned toward the familiar voice, surprised to see Finn Langley approaching. My childhood friend looked different—designer clothes, styled hair, the confident stride of someone who had climbed the corporatedder. It had been years since we''dst spoken.


    "Finn," I said, genuinely pleased despite the circumstances. "I didn''t know you worked here."


    His smile seemed genuine as he sped my hand. "Director of Marketing. What brings you to our little slice of paradise?"


    Before I could answer, Yoyo rushed to Finn''s side, her face streaked with tears that hadn''t been there seconds before.


    "Director Langley!" she cried dramatically. "This—this violent man attacked me and broke my phone! He forced me to kneel in the dirt!"


    Finn''s expression shifted immediately. He looked from Yoyo to me with growing concern.


    "Liam, what''s going on?" he asked, his voice cooler than before.


    I exined the situation concisely—how Yoyo had tried to humiliate the worker over an idental scuff on her shoes, demanding he lick them clean.


    The construction worker nodded vigorously. "It''s true, sir. She was filming it all, making fun of me to her followers."


    Finn''s face remained impassive as he listened. When I finished, I expected the friend I remembered—the one who had once stood up against bullies with me when we were kids—to understand.


    Instead, he sighed heavily. "Yoyo is one of our premium influencers, Liam. Her content brings thousands of visitors to our resort."


    I blinked, processing his words. "So that makes what she did okay?"


    Finn ced a hand on Yoyo''s shoulder. "Of course not, but there are ways to handle these situations... professionally."


    The emphasis on thatst word stung.


    "Professional?" I echoed. "There''s nothing professional about making someone lick your shoes for entertainment."


    Finn turned to the construction worker, his expression hardening. "You should have been more careful. You know influencers use these grounds for content creation."


    The man''s face fell. "Sir, I—"


    "We''ll discuss your future with thepanyter," Finn cut him off coldly.


    I couldn''t believe what I was hearing. "You''re firing him? Over this?"


    "That''s not your concern," Finn replied tersely. He turned to Yoyo with a practiced smile. "Ms. Yoyo, I deeply apologize for this incident. The resort will of course rece your damaged phone andpensate you for this unfortunate experience."


    She shot me a victorious look through fake tears. "Thank you, Director Langley. I knew you''d understand the value of my tform."


    I stepped forward, disbelief giving way to anger. "Finn, this isn''t right and you know it."


    His smile tightened. "Liam, you''re a guest here. I suggest you enjoy the facilities and leave management issues to those of us who understand the business."


    The dismissal in his tone was unmistakable. I stared at him, searching for any trace of the friend who had once shared my sense of justice. There was nothing but cold ambition in his eyes.


    "What happened to you?" I asked quietly.


    Something flickered across his face—perhaps regret, perhaps annoyance at being questioned.


    "I grew up," he replied tly. "Maybe you should try it sometime."


    "Growing up doesn''t mean selling your soul."


    Finnughed, a sharp, brittle sound. "Still the idealist, I see. While you''ve been clinging to your principles, I''ve been building a career. See the difference?" He gestured at his expensive watch and tailored suit.


    "I see it clearly," I said, disappointment settling heavy in my chest.


    Finn checked his watch with exaggerated impatience. "If we''re done with this little reunion, I have actual work to do." He turned to Yoyo. "Let me escort you to my office where we can discusspensation."


    As they started to walk away, I called out, "He won''t be fired."


    Finn paused, turning slowly. "Excuse me?"


    "The worker," I rified. "He won''t be losing his job over this."


    A mocking smile spread across Finn''s face. "And who are you to make that decision, Liam? Last I checked, you''re nobody here."


    The words were calcted to wound, to remind me of our divergent paths. Once, we''d been equals—two kids from the same neighborhood with simr dreams. Now he stood before me, unting his sess, wielding it like a weapon.


    "Things aren''t always what they seem," I said simply.


    "Clearly," he scoffed. "Look, our friendship was a lifetime ago. Don''t think it gives you any say in how I run things."


    The worker stood awkwardly between us, embarrassment and fear written across his face.


    I ced a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Go back to work. You have my word—your job is secure."


    Confusion crossed his features, but he nodded gratefully before walking away.


    Finn''s face darkened. "Don''t make promises you can''t keep, Liam. It''s pathetic."


    "I keep my promises," I replied evenly. "Always have."


    He shook his head with exasperated amusement. "Whatever. Enjoy your stay, old friend." Thest two words dripped with sarcasm. <strong ss="frag-ca7476">This<i ss="node-sep"></i>chapter<i ss="node-sep"></i>was<i ss="node-sep"></i>originally<i ss="node-sep"></i>posted<i ss="node-sep"></i>on<i ss="node-sep"></i>*.</strong>


    After they departed, I turned to Niamh, who had watched the entire exchange with wide eyes. "Ms. Rhodes, I''d like to speak with you privately about securing a specific vi area. And I''ll need it fenced off immediately."


    If she was surprised by my authoritative tone, she didn''t show it. "Of course, Mr. Knight. Whatever you need."


    "And one more thing," I added. "I''d like you to call Director Langley to your office in about twenty minutes."


    She hesitated only briefly before nodding. "Consider it done."


    Eamon raised an eyebrow as we followed Niamh toward the administrative building. "Sir, was that wise? Creating conflict when we''re here for cultivation purposes?"


    I sighed, feeling the weight of disappointment. "Some conflicts find us, Eamon. I didn''t create this one—time did."


    In Niamh''s spacious office, I exined exactly what I needed for my stay. To her credit, she didn''t question why a guest would require such specific arrangements or extensive privacy.


    "The Thornton family''s instructions were very clear," she said. "Whatever you request is to be provided without question."


    "And the worker who was being harassed?"


    "I''ll personally ensure his position is secure," she promised. "Director Langley may be in marketing, but I oversee operations."


    I nodded gratefully. "Thank you."


    Twenty minutester, as requested, there was a sharp knock on the door. Niamh called for the person to enter.


    Finn strode in confidently, a folder tucked under his arm. When he spotted me sitting across from Niamh, his expression darkened instantly.


    "Liam, what are you doing here?" he demanded. "Get out. I''ll deal with you after work."


    His tone made it clear he expected immediatepliance—the voice of a man ustomed to being obeyed.


    Niamh and I exchanged nces, and for the first time since arriving, I allowed myself a small smile.