Perfect.
Let her think that.
The next call came earlier than Margaret expected.
Emily’s number flashed across the screen, and the sharp tone in her daughter’s voice was unmistakable even before she finished saying hello.
“Mom,” Emily began, skipping any polite greeting, “what exactly did you do to the villa?”
Margaret kept her voice soft, almost puzzled.
“What do you mean, dear?”
“Don’t play dumb with me.” Emily’s voice climbed higher, frustration evident. “The lights were flashing. The faucets all turned on by themselves. The doors locked. David’s parents are shaken up. This is exactly your style of passive-aggressive revenge.”
Margaret allowed a small pause, as though genuinely confused.
“Emily, that sounds terrible. But the villa has a smart home system. You remember I had Tom update it a while ago? These systems can be temperamental sometimes. It’s probably just a glitch.”
“A glitch?” Emily’s voice dripped with disbelief. “That was not a glitch. That was targeted, and it happened the first night we stayed there.”
Margaret let a faint sigh carry through the line.
“Emily, I had no idea you were there. I haven’t been to the villa in days. If something malfunctioned, it wasn’t because of me. But perhaps we should meet in person to discuss this. It might be easier to clear things up face-to-face.”
There was a moment of silence on the other end.
Margaret could practically hear Emily weighing her options.
Finally, Emily spoke, more controlled now.
“Fine. We’ll talk. But this is ridiculous.”
“Of course,” Margaret said, her tone warm, even as her eyes narrowed in quiet calculation. “Let me know when you want to meet.”
After hanging up, she leaned back in her chair.
Emily had taken the bait.
A direct meeting would give Margaret more time and more opportunities to play her part carefully.
Meanwhile, at the villa, David was growing restless.
Emily had convinced him the problem was technical, a faulty security system that could be fixed. He decided to take matters into his own hands.
“Your mom’s just trying to scare us,” David told Emily as he pulled out his phone. “I’ll get a locksmith. Once we replace the locks, she won’t have any way of interfering.”
Emily did not look entirely convinced, but she nodded.
“Fine. Just get it done.”
That afternoon, a locksmith’s van pulled up to the villa.
The technician, a middle-aged man with a tool belt and a confident stride, stepped out and greeted David.
“So, what seems to be the problem?”
David gestured toward the front door.
“We just need the locks replaced. There’s a smart system, but it’s malfunctioning. We want it removed and replaced with something simple. Mechanical. Old school.”
The locksmith knelt by the door, examining the hardware. His brow furrowed almost immediately.
“This isn’t your standard smart lock,” he said. “It’s integrated into a full security suite. Whoever installed this knew exactly what they were doing. There are multiple authentication layers, facial recognition, remote access, and an encrypted backup.”
David’s impatience crept into his tone.
“Can you bypass it?”
The locksmith glanced at him over his shoulder.
“Bypass it? Not without full access credentials. And even then, it would take hours, maybe days, to dismantle without damaging the door.”
David’s frustration grew.
“I don’t care if you damage the door. Just get the system out.”
The locksmith hesitated, then shook his head.
“Sir, if I force this system, it could trigger automatic security responses. I’ve seen setups like this lock down entire houses. You’d need the installer or someone with equivalent access to handle it safely.”
David clenched his fists.
“And how do we find this installer?”
The locksmith shrugged, already packing up his tools.
“Whoever set this up left no identifying information on the hardware. That’s unusual.”
Inside the villa, Emily had been listening.
Her confidence wavered as she watched David argue with the locksmith. The idea of her mother quietly orchestrating all of this gnawed at her, even if she refused to admit it out loud.
“Forget it,” David muttered, slamming the door after the locksmith left. “We’ll figure something else out.”
Emily tried to steady her voice.
“Maybe it really is just a glitch. We’ll call the system manufacturer, or we’ll talk to Mom.”
David gave her a skeptical look.
“If your mom’s behind this, talking to her won’t change anything. She’s not going to hand over the villa.”
Emily’s jaw tightened.
“Then we make her.”
Miles away, Margaret checked her phone.
The villa’s security logs showed multiple failed attempts to override the system. The cameras had caught every moment of David’s conversation with the locksmith.
She allowed herself a small, satisfied smile.
The villa was secure.
The locks were unbreakable.
And now David and Emily were growing frustrated.
Frustration, Margaret knew, could be far more dangerous than anger.
It made people careless.
And carelessness was exactly what she needed from them.
While David and Emily spent the afternoon pacing through the villa, growing more irritated with each failed attempt to break through the security system, Margaret sat comfortably in her living room, phone in hand.
She scrolled through her contacts until she found a name she had not spoken to in years.
Michael Grant.
Michael was a real estate investor she had met at a charity event back when David had been trying to secure business loans for one of his projects. He was well connected, and more importantly, he knew exactly which deals David had tried and failed to pull off.
Margaret pressed the call button.
“Margaret Wilson,” Michael said warmly, surprised. “It’s been ages. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Margaret’s tone was casual, almost conversational.
“Michael, I was wondering if you’ve spoken to David Miller recently. He’s my son-in-law.”
Michael gave a short laugh.
“Ah, David. Always chasing big ideas. No, I haven’t spoken to him in a while. Why do you ask?”
Margaret let a thoughtful pause hang in the air.
“Oh, no reason. I just heard he was looking to expand. It made me wonder how he’s doing with his current obligations.”
Michael chuckled knowingly.
“Current obligations? You mean the loan he still hasn’t finished paying off? Or the investors still waiting for returns on that condo flip?”
Margaret smiled faintly, though her voice stayed sympathetic.
“That’s unfortunate. I hope Emily knows about all of that.”
Michael’s laugh stopped abruptly.
“Emily? I doubt it. David’s good at keeping things quiet. But if she’s involved in any property decisions, she should probably know, especially if there are liens attached to anything they own.”
Margaret leaned back in her chair, her plan clicking neatly into place.
“Yes. That’s what I was thinking. Well, Michael, it was lovely catching up.”
After ending the call, she sat back and let the seeds take root.
Michael had a habit of sharing information, discreetly, of course, but always to the right ears.
And Margaret knew exactly how fast news traveled through David’s circle.
Two days later, the tension began to show on the villa’s cameras.
Margaret watched as Emily and David argued in the kitchen.
Emily’s arms were crossed, her voice sharp.
“Why didn’t you tell me about the debt, David?”
David’s back stiffened.
“It’s not a big deal. I’ve got it under control.”
“Under control?” Emily’s tone was incredulous. “Michael Grant called me yesterday. He hinted there are liens on your properties, and you’re trying to move your parents into my mother’s villa. Were you planning to tell me any of this?”
David’s jaw tightened.
“This is exactly why I didn’t say anything. You overreact. I’m handling it. My parents need a place to live, and the villa is perfect. Once we settle in, everything will stabilize.”
Emily shook her head, frustration radiating from her.
“So the plan is to move your parents into a house we don’t even legally own while you juggle debt you didn’t tell me about? Do you have any idea how reckless that sounds?”
David stepped closer, lowering his voice but not his temper.
“Do you have any idea how much I’ve done for us? I’ve been the one taking risks, building opportunities.”
Emily cut him off.
“Risks? Is that what you call putting us in a financial hole? And now my mother’s involved. Do you know what she’s capable of when she’s quiet like this? She’s not just going to let this go.”
David hesitated, uncertainty flickering in his eyes.
“She doesn’t have proof. She doesn’t even know what we’re doing.”
Emily stared at him, her voice low and sharp.
“David, she knows everything. That’s what you don’t get. And now she probably knows more than I do.”
Margaret watched all of it from the safety of her living room, her tea growing cold as she listened through the villa’s audio feed.
She could hear the cracks forming in their alliance, the sharp edges of distrust cutting deeper with each exchange.
She did not need to say a word.
The work was being done for her from the inside.
David left the kitchen, closing the door hard behind him, while Emily remained by the counter, scrolling furiously through her phone.
Margaret could only guess what she was looking for.
Bank records.
Loan agreements.
A way to confirm what Michael had hinted.
It did not matter.
The more Emily questioned David, the more unstable their united front would become.
And instability was exactly what Margaret needed.
By evening, Emily called her again.
Her voice was calmer, but there was a sharpness underneath.
“Mom, we need to talk about the villa. I think there are other things going on that you might not be aware of.”
Margaret let a touch of innocence into her tone.
“Oh? What kind of things?”
Emily hesitated.
“David’s been busy. There are financial matters. I’m still trying to sort them out. But I just wanted you to know, if we need to delay the move-in for his parents, that might be best.”
Margaret’s smile did not reach her voice.
“Of course, dear. Whatever you think is best.”
After the call ended, she set her phone down and allowed herself a quiet, satisfied sigh.
The cracks were widening.
Emily and David were no longer a single united opponent.
Soon they would be too busy fighting each other to see what was coming next.
Margaret drove into the city under a slate-gray sky, her fingers tightening around the steering wheel as she navigated the morning traffic.
Emily’s call from the night before had confirmed what she already knew.
The cracks between Emily and David were growing.
But cracks were not enough.
She needed a permanent solution, something that would eliminate the villa as a bargaining chip forever.
When she reached Jonathan Lee’s office, he was already waiting for her. His calm, professional demeanor was the same as always, but his sharp eyes missed nothing.
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