“There is no investor,” Mr. Han said, shaking his head. “They are completely bankrupt.”

He looked down at his tablet again.

“Our staff just delivered the complimentary champagne to their pavilion,” he said.

“Did they accept it?” I asked.

“Yes. Mrs. Vivian Mercer complained that the vintage was too young, but she drank it anyway.”

A quiet chuckle went around the boardroom table.

I closed the binder with a soft thud.

“We will initiate the foreclosure proceedings tomorrow morning,” I said.

“Should we serve the papers here at the resort?” the lawyer asked.

“Yes,” I said. “But not yet. Let them enjoy their afternoon first.”

I turned to Mr. Han. “What are their plans for tomorrow?”

“Mrs. Mercer and her daughter have booked the terrace at the Orchid Room for a private luncheon,” Mr. Han said.

“They invited several local socialites to show off their connection to Lotus Bay.”

“I see,” I said.

“They also requested our most discreet staff,” Mr. Han added, a faint smile touching his lips.

“They specifically asked for servers who ‘know how to stay silent and serve their betters.'”