My neighbor warned me, ‘Stop throwing parties at your house every night. Enough is enough.’

Confronting the Chaos

The sharp screech of my beloved Audi’s brakes echoed through the quiet residential streets of Laguna Beach. The moment I stepped out of the car, crushing bass slammed into my eardrums, slicing straight through the salty night air.

Daniel was right. This place was no longer an upscale neighborhood, but a vulgar open-air festival ground. Several unfamiliar, cheap-looking sports cars were carelessly parked along my private driveway, completely blocking the way.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going, lady? This is an invite-only private party!” At the front entrance, an unfamiliar man holding a red plastic cup in one hand stepped into my path.

“Move aside. This is my house.” I said.

“Huh? What are you talking about? This is Amanda’s vacation home, you know! Do I remember a plain-looking woman like you among her friends?” He snorted as he looked me up and down.

I shot him a cold glance, slammed my shoulder into him, and forced the door open. The instant I stepped inside, my vision nearly went dark. Even though the air conditioner was set to its lowest temperature, the room was suffocating with body heat, sweat, and the sickly sweet haze of marijuana.

Sticky trails of spilled alcohol streaked across the polished flooring, and shards of broken glass were scattered everywhere. Food stains that looked like someone had thrown them clung to the walls, and cheap party streamers were sloppily dangling from the custom lighting fixtures I had personally chosen.

“Haha! Come on, everyone, drink more!” In the center of the living room, Amanda was standing on my white sofa, wildly shaking a bottle of champagne around. Her swarm of sycophantic hangers-on clustered together, praising her as if she were the rightful owner of the house.

“Amanda!” My shout was swallowed whole by the blasting music. I lunged toward the audio system and yanked out the main power cable with all my strength.

Silence fell in an instant as a piercing ringing echoed deep inside my ears. Dozens of pairs of eyes turned toward me at once.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing? It was just getting good!” Amanda stepped down from the sofa and glared at me with open irritation.

But the instant she realized it was me, a flicker of unease crossed her face for just a second. That expression was immediately painted over with her usual brazen smile.

“Oh wow, it’s Emily Turner! What’s wrong? Why do you look so scary?” She asked.

“Oh, I get it! You wanted to join the party too, didn’t you? You don’t have to be shy, you know! I’ll make a special exception and invite you since I’m your little sister!” She didn’t understand, not even by a millimeter, how serious her crime was.

“Invite me? You’re inviting me to my own house?” My voice was lower and colder than I ever expected it to be.

Amanda snorted and deliberately set the glass she was holding down at my feet. “What’s with you, uptight Emily? You don’t need to get so angry! You’re always working anyway! You never even have time to use this house, right? So I’m just breathing some life into it for you! We’re family, so what’s the big deal?”

“Don’t think that being family means everything is forgiven.” I told her.

The Law Intervenes

At that moment, red and blue lights began spinning violently outside the house. With the screech of burning tires, three police cars slid into the private driveway.

“Police! Nobody move!” The door was kicked open, and several sheriff’s deputies stormed into the house. More than ten young people who had been partying wildly froze in an instant.

“Who’s responsible here?” A large officer swept the room with a hard, intimidating gaze. Amanda faltered for a split second, but then quickly put on her trademark tragic heroine expression and stepped forward.

“Officer, please help us! This woman suddenly barged in and ruined our party! She’s my sister, but she’s emotionally unstable and—”

“Don’t lie. I am the owner, Emily Turner. These people have trespassed onto my property without my permission.” When I stated this firmly, Amanda shrieked in a high-pitched voice.

“Illegal trespassing? How rude! This is our family’s vacation home! Even our parents said it’s a place for the whole family to use! It’s shared property!” She yelled.

“Yeah, what a stingy older sister!” One of her hangers-on shouted mockingly from the side.

The officer looked back and forth between Amanda and me, then let out a sigh. “Ma’am, is what she’s saying true? Is this property jointly owned by the family?” He asked.

Amanda puffed out her chest, wearing a triumphant grin. “Yes! The paperwork is still being processed, but in practical terms, it’s everyone’s house!”

I let out a cold laugh and pulled a single folder from my bag. “Being processed? No, everything is already finalized. This is the notarized deed. Look at the owner’s section. The only name listed there is Emily Turner.”

And then I took out my tablet and opened the control panel. “Everything about how she got into this house is recorded as well. I have never once given her a key.”

“By the way, Amanda, how did you even find this place?” As I quietly asked that question while showing the tablet screen to the officer, the color drained rapidly from Amanda’s face.

On the screen was security footage from my office taken a week earlier. It clearly showed Amanda sneaking up to my desk while I was out of the room for a meeting, secretly stealing a spare key and copies of documents.

“This is—well—” She stammered.

“You said it was shared family property, but the moment you stole the key, that became deliberate theft in a planned intrusion.” I said.

The officer leaned in to look at the footage, his expression hardening. “This is decisive evidence. Miss, did you take this key without authorization?” He asked.

Amanda’s eyes darted around wildly as she desperately searched for an excuse. “No, it’s not like that! My sister forgot the key, so I was just trying to return it and I happened to know the location—”

“Stop lying! I never once told you that I had bought this place! Who told you where it was?” When I stepped closer, Amanda finally cracked and let her shallow secret spill out.

“I have a friend in real estate! Ryan works at Suncoast Realty! He told me! He said, ‘You bought the best property in Laguna, paid in cash all at once!’ He even gave me the address in detail!”

A murmur of shock rippled through the friends gathered around. The officer, showing not a trace of sympathy, reached for the handcuffs on his belt.

“Illegal acquisition of customer information, theft, and trespassing. Amanda, what you’ve done can no longer be dismissed as family selfishness.” I said.

“Amanda Clark, you are being detained on suspicion of trespassing on property without legal rights and theft. You will be informed of your rights.” The officer stated.

“You’ve got to be kidding me! Wait! Emily, are you really going to have your own family arrested?” Amanda’s scream echoed through the room.