She took a deep, steadying breath, adjusting the silk shawl over her shoulders as if she were still the queen of the local social register.

“This has gone quite far enough,” Vivian said, her tone shifting into a smooth, lecture-like cadence.

She looked around the room, her eyes briefly meeting those of a prominent local judge who was watching from the bar, before she looked back at me.

“We took you in when you had nothing but a name and a few old memories,” Vivian said, her voice carrying that practiced, wealthy authority.

She stepped closer, her heels clicking sharply on the polished marble floor.

“You are a Mercer now,” Vivian continued, her eyes narrowing as she tried to reclaim the upper hand. “Everything you have, everything this resort represents, is tied to the status we gave you by bringing you into our home.”

Claire nodded quickly beside her, her confidence returning as her mother took control of the conversation.

“That’s right,” Claire said, crossing her arms. “You would be nothing without our family’s name.”

Vivian ignored her daughter, keeping her gaze fixed on me.