From the outside, Monroe Manor looked like something straight out of a fairy tale.

Sitting on top of rolling green hills, the huge estate seemed to go on forever, protected by tall wrought-iron gates with the Monroe family’s fancy “M” crest on them. Past the gates were acres of perfectly trimmed lawns, sparkling marble fountains, and a massive mansion with cream-colored walls that glowed in the warm morning sun.

People used to slow down their cars just to stare at it.

Some called it a palace.

Others called it the city’s crown jewel.

To Scarlett Monroe, it was just a beautiful prison.

The sleek black sedan rolled through the gates, its tires crunching softly over the gravel driveway lined with old oak trees. Scarlet and gold roses climbed along elegant archways, filling the air with a sweet scent that drifted in through the slightly open car window.

Scarlett rested her forehead against the cool glass and watched the familiar scenery pass by.

Home.

It should have felt comforting.

Instead, it sat in her chest like a weight she couldn’t shake.

After four years away at university, she had almost forgotten how suffocating Monroe Manor felt.

Almost.

The driver glanced at her in the rearview mirror.

“We’re here, Miss Monroe.”

Scarlett gave him a small smile.

“Thanks, James.”

James had been driving for the Monroe family since before Scarlett was born. He had watched her grow from a curious little girl who loved chasing butterflies into a young woman expected to carry the weight of a billion-dollar legacy.

As he got out to open the car door, Scarlett took a deep breath before stepping out.

The cool morning breeze brushed against her face, carrying the smell of fresh earth and blooming flowers.

She closed her eyes for just a second.

It smelled exactly like she remembered.

There was one thing about Monroe Manor she could never hate.

The gardens.

They were alive in a way the mansion never was.

Birds chirped from the flowering trees. Bees drifted lazily from blossom to blossom. Lavender swayed in the breeze while white roses climbed trellises that reached toward the sky.

For a brief moment, Scarlett forgot about the obligations waiting behind the mansion doors.

She wandered a few steps toward the nearest flower bed and knelt beside a cluster of pale pink roses.

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

Her voice was barely a whisper.

She reached out carefully, letting her fingertips brush one soft petal.

Unlike people, flowers never cared about status.

They bloomed for everyone.

A voice called out from the mansion.

“Miss Scarlett has arrived!”

The moment was gone.

Within seconds, servants came pouring out through the grand entrance, each one in a perfectly pressed uniform and wearing a welcoming smile.

“Welcome home, Miss Scarlett.”

“It’s so good to have you back.”

“We’ve missed you.”

Scarlett smiled politely and greeted each person by name.

“Good morning, Martha.”

“Nice to see you again, Henry.”

The servants exchanged surprised looks.

Even though she had been born into unbelievable wealth, Scarlett had never believed kindness should depend on someone’s job title.

She remembered names.

She asked about families.

She listened.

It was one of the few things that made her different from the rest of the Monroe family.

As she climbed the marble staircase to the entrance, her eyes drifted one last time toward the gardens.

Rows of colorful flowers stretched into the distance, impossibly bright beneath the morning sun.

For reasons she couldn’t explain, they seemed even more beautiful than she remembered.

She smiled softly.

Maybe coming home wouldn’t be so bad as she thought.

Scarlett walked through the huge mahogany doors of Monroe Manor, and the familiar smell of polished wood and fresh lilies hit her right away.

The entrance hall was just as grand as she remembered.

A crystal chandelier hung from the domed ceiling, throwing little flashes of light across the shiny marble floor. Portraits of Monroe ancestors lined the walls, their stern faces seeming to watch her every move.

Nothing had changed.

Not the pricey décor.

Not the heavy silence.

And definitely not the expectations that came with the Monroe name.

"Scarlett."

Her mother’s voice echoed from the curved staircase.

Victoria Monroe came down with perfect grace, dressed in an ivory silk pantsuit that looked like it had never been wrinkled. Every strand of her blonde hair was in place, and the diamond earrings she wore caught the light with every step.

She looked less like a mom welcoming her daughter home and more like someone heading into a business meeting.

"You made good time," Victoria said when she reached the bottom of the stairs.

Scarlett smiled and stepped forward, hoping for a hug.

Instead, Victoria gave her a light kiss on both cheeks.

"You look thinner."

Scarlett let out a small sigh.

"Good to see you too, Mother."

Victoria adjusted the collar of Scarlett’s blouse.

"We’ll need to update your wardrobe before next month’s gala. There’ll be important guests there."

Scarlett gave a soft laugh.

"I’ve been home for less than five minutes."

"And appearances matter every minute."

Before Scarlett could say anything, another familiar voice cut in.

"Miss Scarlett!"

She turned and saw Mrs. Collins, the family’s longtime housekeeper, hurrying toward her with open arms.

Unlike Victoria, Mrs. Collins didn’t hold back.

She pulled Scarlett into a warm hug.

"My goodness, look at you!" she said. "You’ve grown into such a beautiful young woman."

Scarlett hugged her back tightly.

"I’ve missed you."

"And I’ve missed having someone in this house who smiles."

Mrs. Collins lowered her voice just enough for Scarlett to hear.

"Don’t let this place take that smile away from you."

Scarlett’s smile softened.

"I’ll try."

A sharp clearing of a throat broke the moment.

Richard Monroe stood at the entrance to his study.

Tall, intimidating, and dressed in a charcoal suit even though it was barely ten in the morning, he carried himself like a man who expected everyone to do exactly what he said.

His face gave nothing away.

No excitement.

No warmth.

Just authority.

"You’re home."

Scarlett straightened without thinking.

"Yes, Father."

"I trust you finished your degree with distinction."

"I did."

"Good."

That one word was all the praise she got.

"I have a board meeting in twenty minutes," Richard said. "We’ll have dinner together tonight. There are family matters we need to discuss."

Scarlett’s stomach tightened.

Family matters.

Those words almost never meant anything good.

Without waiting for a response, Richard turned and went back into his study.

The heavy wooden door shut behind him with a quiet click.

Scarlett stared at it for a moment before letting out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

Mrs. Collins gently squeezed her shoulder.

"Don’t worry too much."

Scarlett forced a smile.

"I’ve lived with him for twenty-three years."

She glanced at the closed study door.

"I know exactly what ‘family matters’ means."

Mrs. Collins looked at her with sympathy but didn’t say anything.

Scarlett picked up her suitcase and headed up the grand staircase to her bedroom.

When she reached the landing, sunlight poured through the tall windows overlooking the estate.

Her gaze drifted down to the gardens below.

Tiny figures moved among the flower beds, tending to the endless rows of roses and lavender.

One figure caught her eye.

A tall man in a faded green work shirt knelt beside a rose bush, carefully trimming dead branches with steady hands. Even from this distance, there was something calm and focused about the way he worked, like the rest of the world had disappeared.

Before Scarlett could get a better look, he stood, picked up a watering can, and disappeared behind a wall of climbing roses.

For some reason she couldn’t explain, her eyes stayed on the empty spot where he’d been.

Then she shook her head with a small laugh.

It was just a gardener.

She had more important things to worry about.

By the time the grandfather clock in the hallway chimed seven, the whole Monroe family was already gathered in the formal dining room.

The room was just as fancy as the rest of the mansion.

A crystal chandelier cast a warm glow over the long mahogany table. Fresh lilies sat in a silver vase at the center, and the silverware and fine china were lined up with almost ridiculous precision.

Scarlett took her usual seat between her parents.

For a while, the only sounds were the soft clink of cutlery against porcelain.

Richard Monroe was the first to break the silence.

"The annual Monroe Charity Gala is six weeks away."

Scarlett looked up from her plate.

"The board has unanimously agreed that this year's gala will be held in our botanical gardens."

Victoria nodded, clearly pleased.

"It'll be the biggest event we've ever hosted. Politicians, investors, celebrities... everyone who matters will be there."

Scarlett smiled politely.

"That sounds great."

"It will be," Richard said. "As long as the gardens are restored to the standard I expect."

He folded his napkin neatly, then looked straight at Scarlett.

"And you'll be overseeing the project."

Scarlett blinked.

"Sorry... what?"

"You heard me."

She let out a short laugh, sure he had to be joking.

"I studied Business Administration, Father. Not landscaping."

"This has nothing to do with landscaping."

"It has everything to do with responsibility," Richard said firmly. "One day, this family and this empire will be yours. It's time you learned how to manage people, oversee projects, and get results."

Scarlett opened her mouth to argue, but Richard held up a hand.

"The head gardener will handle the technical side. Your job is to make sure the project gets done on time."

"I don't even know the first thing about flowers."

"Then learn."

His tone made it clear the conversation was over.

Scarlett glanced at her mother, hoping for backup.

Victoria just took a sip of wine.

"I think it's a wonderful opportunity."

Of course you do, Scarlett thought bitterly.

Richard reached into a leather folder beside him and slid a file across the table.

"Your duties start tomorrow morning at eight."

Scarlett picked it up reluctantly.

The first page had sketches of the gardens, renovation plans, schedules, and budgets.

As she flipped to the second page, a staff profile caught her eye.

A photo.

A man with dark hair, piercing eyes, and an expression so serious it was almost intimidating.

Below the picture were the words:

LIAM HAYES

Head Gardener

Employed: 5 Years

Richard's voice pulled her out of her thoughts.

"I should warn you."

Scarlett looked up.

"Liam Hayes is extremely talented."

He paused.

"But he can be... difficult."

Scarlett smirked.

"Difficult?"

"He doesn't like people interfering with his work."

She closed the file with quiet confidence.

"Then it's a good thing I'm very persuasive."

Richard gave a faint smile.

The next morning, just before eight, Scarlett walked toward the gardens with the project file tucked under her arm.

She had no intention of letting some stubborn employee make her job any harder than it already was.

As she stepped onto a narrow stone path, she barely noticed the freshly planted flower bed beside it.

One more careless step—

"Stop."

The deep male voice cut across the quiet garden.

Scarlett froze.

Slowly, she turned toward the sound.

A tall man stood a few feet away, his sleeves rolled up to his forearms, a pair of pruning shears hanging loosely from one gloved hand.

His sharp eyes were fixed—not on her face—

But on the expensive designer heel hovering inches above a bed of newly planted white roses.

"You take one more step," he said evenly, "and you'll ruin three weeks of work."

Scarlett lifted an eyebrow.

No one had ever talked to her like that.

And something told her...

This was only the beginning.