Chapter 1

My uncle tore down my family's old house without asking anyone and put up a new one on my land, and he made it sound so noble too.

"Rosalie, your uncle's only looking out for you. You said yourself you'd have nowhere to stay when you came back. Well, now the house is built, so you've got a home too, haven't you?"

"Come on, come see your room."

He pointed to the triangular storage space under the stairs. "There, that's the bedroom your uncle set aside just for you."

I was instantly burning with rage.

But because he was my own uncle, I forced the anger back down.

"Then I'll build a bed-and-breakfast on the plot next to yours—there's plenty of room."

The second he heard that, he blew up. "Absolutely not! We need that plot next door, you can't touch it!"

So my uncle meant to grab every last bit of my family's big homestead plot for himself.

Faced with an uncle who wouldn't listen to reason, I made a decision right there on the spot.

I'd transfer the use rights to the family land over to the one person my uncle had feared his whole life—his younger brother, my Uncle Basil, who had a history of mental illness.

1

After three years of grinding it out in the big city, I'd saved up a little money, and I planned to go back home and use the family land my father left me to build a bed-and-breakfast, to help revive tourism in my hometown.

But when I got back home, I was stunned to find that the old house I'd grown up in was gone, replaced by a brand-new three-story house.

I knocked on the door of the new house, and my uncle's wife answered.

She froze when she saw me, and it took her a long moment to react.

"Well, if it isn't Rosalie. What brings you back?"

From her tone, she didn't seem all that happy to see me.

"Mrs. Whitney, you built a new house and didn't say a word to me about it."

My cousin came out when he heard the commotion.

His brows were knitted up high.

"Rosalie Whitney, you come to my house and don't even think to bring anything? Showing up empty-handed, and you've got the nerve."

"The things for you and your parents are in the trunk of my car."

My cousin rushed straight out into the yard. "Open the trunk."

I clicked the car key, and the trunk slowly lifted open.

He started digging through it right away.

"What is all this? Not one thing worth anything. You've worked in the big city three whole years, you finally come back for once, and you can't even think to buy us something nice to show some respect."

The fruit, snacks, and tea I'd bought had cost close to a thousand dollars, which I figured was more than enough for a visit to relatives.

My cousin had been like this his whole life—greedy, never satisfied.

I ignored him and asked his mother, "Where's my uncle?"

"Sleeping upstairs. I'll go wake him."

A long while later, my uncle finally came downstairs, yawning.

"Rosalie, you're back just in time. I've got something to talk to you about."

"You got three hundred thousand dollars? Hand it over first, help your cousin out of a tight spot."

Before I could even ask about the house, he was already trying to borrow money.

"Uncle, I don't have that kind of money."

"Then whatever you've got, hand it all over to your cousin."

"I'm starting a business with some friends. I don't have any spare cash on me."

The moment he heard that, his face changed.