I thought she was simply being difficult.
I had no idea she had already started planning how to take my property.
The problems began slowly.
A warning about my driveway.
A complaint about my landscaping.
A letter saying my outdoor lights were too bright.
Then another claiming my security cameras violated community privacy.
That last one was ironic.
Because Vivian had never once asked me about the cameras.
She simply didn't like them.
I eventually learned why.
The security system covered nearly every inch of my property.
Front gate.
Driveway.
Side entrance.
Garage.
Backyard.
Pool.
Every camera uploaded continuously to a private cloud server.
I had installed it after a break-in at my previous home.
I wasn't paranoid.
I simply liked knowing what happened on my own property.
Vivian hated that.
"You have cameras everywhere," she complained during one HOA meeting.
"On my property," I replied.
"That's unsettling."
"It's security."
"Security for what?"
I looked at her.
"I guess we'll find out."
She didn't laugh.
Neither did the other board members.
Then came the pool dispute.
The pool sat approximately forty feet behind my house.
It was completely enclosed by a six-foot privacy fence.
No neighbor could see into it without deliberately standing on something tall.
The HOA rules didn't prohibit private pools.
In fact, three other houses had them.
But Vivian suddenly claimed mine violated a "community aesthetic standard."
I asked her to show me the rule.
She couldn't.
Instead, she said:
"Rules aren't always about what's written."
That was when I realized this wasn't about the pool.
It was about control.
I just didn't understand what she wanted to control.
Not yet.
Six months after I moved in, Vivian came to my house with two board members.
She stood at the gate.
"I need to discuss your property."
I opened the door.
"What about it?"
"Your lot is becoming a concern."
"Why?"
She handed me a document.
"We're considering a special assessment."
"For what?"
"Drainage improvements."
I read the document.
The proposed assessment for my property alone was $48,000.
I looked up.
"Why me?"
"Your property sits at the lowest elevation."
"According to whom?"
"Our consultant."
"Can I see the report?"
She smiled.
"It's still being prepared."
"So you're charging me before the report exists?"
Her smile disappeared.
"You've been difficult since you arrived."
I handed the document back.
"Maybe because I ask questions."
She leaned closer.
"Mr. Reed, people who fight the HOA usually regret it."
I looked directly at her.
"Then I guess we'll see."
She walked away.
That was the first time she threatened me.
It wasn't the last.
Two weeks later, I noticed something strange.
A real estate company had started sending me letters.
The first said:
WE ARE INTERESTED IN PURCHASING YOUR PROPERTY.
The second offered $1.85 million.
I ignored it.
The third offered $2 million.