Chapter 2 - The Owner of the IslandFor five agonizing seconds, my father stood paralyzed under the harsh fluorescent lights of the service corridor.
“Owner?” Richard stammered, his voice trembling as he looked from Marcus to me. “What do you mean, owner? Carter’s father rented this island from an international luxury resort firm!”
Marcus didn't give him the dignity of an answer. He motioned to the two medics, who stepped forward with practiced efficiency.
“Sir, set the child down on the gurney immediately,” the lead medic commanded firmly. “She has a head injury. Moving her without spinal stabilization could cause permanent neurological damage.”
Richard opened his mouth to argue, but the authority in the medic's voice, combined with the approach of two armed island security guards who had just stepped out of the service elevator, broke his nerve. He lowered Lily onto the white sheets.
The moment my daughter was on the gurney, I rushed to her side. I took her small, cold hand in mine. Her eyes were closed, her breathing shallow and ragged.
“Lily, baby, Mommy’s here,” I whispered, squeezing her fingers, trying to keep the tears from choking my voice. “You’re going to be okay. I’m right here.”
“Ms. Reed,” Marcus said gently, placing a hand near my shoulder. “The medical helicopter was already on standby at the north helipad for the VIP transport later tonight. They are warming up the rotors now. They can airlift her to the regional trauma center in Saint Jude within eight minutes.”
“Go,” I said, not taking my eyes off Lily’s pale face. “Get her in the air now.”
The medics moved swiftly, wheeling the gurney down the ramp toward the emergency exit. I walked right beside them, refusing to let go of her hand for even a second.
My father tried to follow us down the hallway, his hands shaking at his sides. “Claire, wait! We need to talk about this! You can't just call the police on your sister! Think about what this will do to Ashley's reputation! The Montgomery family will call off the wedding!”
I stopped at the threshold of the exit doors and turned around. The look in my eyes made Richard stop dead in his tracks.
“Ashley threw an eight-year-old child off a stone balcony,” I said, my voice dropping to a whisper that cut deeper than any scream. “If the Montgomerys call off the wedding, that will be the least of her problems.”
“Claire, please!” Richard pleaded, clutching his hands together. “We didn't know this resort belonged to you! You never told us you owned a place like this! You always pretended you were just a middle-management consultant!”
“Because I knew exactly who you were,” I replied coldly. “I knew that if you thought I had money, you would leech off me just like you’ve leeched off everyone else. But I paid for every single brick of this island with the tech firm I built from the ground up after you kicked me out at eighteen.”
I leaned closer to him. “And every single dollar paying for Ashley’s two-million-dollar wedding was wired directly into my corporate account three days ago by Carter’s father. I own this island. I own the contract. And as of right now, your daughter's dream wedding is over.”
Before he could utter another word, Marcus stepped between us, signaling the two security guards.
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“Mr. Reed,” Marcus said politely, though his eyes were like ice. “You are to remain in the service quarter until local law enforcement arrives. If you attempt to re-enter the guest areas, you will be restrained for interference with a medical emergency.”
The heavy steel exit doors slammed shut, locking my father inside the corridor, and I ran out into the bright afternoon sunlight toward the waiting rotors of the medical helicopter.
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