Both turned in unison. Kane stood there, composed, elegant, a faint, knowing smile playing on her lips.
Ling blinked, maintaining control, though her heart skipped a beat at the unexpected presence.
"Hello… future mother-in-law. Happy birthday," she said politely, yet her eyes flicked briefly to Rhea, searching for reassurance.
Kane's smile deepened, deliberate, calculating. She greeted Ling formally, but every subtle tilt of her head, every measured pause, carried the weight of history—past betrayal, lingering resentment, hidden knowledge that Ling had no idea existed.
Turning to Rhea, Kane said lightly, "I have some work to attend to. Come with me."
Rhea's eyes flickered to Ling, a storm of emotion brewing silently behind emerald-lashed lids. She didn't think of revenge now. Not tonight. Her mind was singularly focused:
what if Ling heard the truth from someone else? What if Ling believed Rhea had never truly loved her? That thought tightened her chest, made her fingers clench into the fabric of her dress.
Ling remained still, poised, mask perfectly in place—but beneath the surface, her fingers twitched slightly, her pulse quickened, the world narrowing to Rhea's lingering scent, the tension in her posture, the unspoken urgency in her gaze.
Rhea paused at Kane's side, heart hammering. She offered a small, barely-there smile at Ling, almost apologetic, almost pleading.
"Later… I promise," she whispered under her breath, though only Ling could have heard.
Ling nodded, lips parting in a subtle, teasing curve—but her eyes betrayed the storm within.
"I'll be waiting," she said, voice low, almost a growl, and stepped back just enough to maintain control, letting the silence hang like a fragile thread between them.
Kane, oblivious to this unspoken current, guided Rhea toward the hallway, the two moving together, yet Rhea's gaze never left Ling's form, and Ling's body remained taut, alert, every nerve tuned to the emerald dress, the tension, the scent of desire and fear entwined.
Rhea walked with Kane, each step heavy with unspoken words.
Every second away from Ling felt like a countdown.
She knew the weight of tonight—every interaction, every glance, every touch would be a memory Ling held, oblivious to the truth Rhea carried like a knife behind her ribs.
Ling remained alone in the room, pulse steady, fingers brushing the edge of the nearby table, already plotting—mentally cataloguing every detail about Rhea's stance, her expression, the way her hair fell, the tension in her shoulders.
Rhea's hand trembled slightly as she turned to face her mother.
"You called all the family… now Ling will know everything," she said sharply, trying to keep her voice steady.
Kane's lips curved faintly, almost amused.
"Why are you angry?" she asked calmly.
Rhea's hands clenched at her sides.
"You… you said I would give you your gift today… by breaking Ling. Didn't you?"
Rhea's throat tightened. Tears threatened to fall.
She nodded, barely audibly.
Kane's expression shifted immediately—her eyes hardened.
She stepped closer, her presence dominating.
"Why are your eyes teary?" Kane demanded, grabbing Rhea's chin hardly, tilting her face up.
Rhea tried to pull back instinctively, but Kane's grip was iron-strong.
"I… I'm not…" Rhea's voice cracked, a fragile lie escaping her.
"You are," Kane interrupted sharply. "Don't try to deny it."
Rhea's lips pressed together, and she swallowed hard, forcing herself to stay calm, but the heat of shame and fear flooded her cheeks.
Kane's gaze pierced through her, unyielding.
"You think you can lie to me?" Kane whispered, voice low, dangerous, almost cruel.
"I see everything. Your heart, your hesitation… the fear that Ling might know you played her."
Rhea shivered under the intensity, blinking rapidly to stop her tears.
"I… I'm just… I wanted—" she tried, but Kane cut her off.
"Wanted to protect her, yes. But this wasn't thing I wanted you to do, Rhea," Kane said coldly.
"Tonight, everything changes. And if you falter… if your eyes betray you again…"
Rhea bit her lip, tears now threatening to spill fully, her chest tightening.
Kane released her chin slowly, stepping back, letting the tension linger in the room like a living thing.
Rhea's shoulders sagged slightly. She wiped her cheeks quickly, not daring to show more, knowing Kane had already read every secret she had tried to hide.
After a moment.
Ling's hands gripped the windowsill, muscles flexing as she hoisted herself silently inside Rhea's room.
She landed on the plush carpet without a sound, her boots barely brushing the floor.
Ling's breath caught, just for a moment. She moved closer, letting her fingers brush the delicate petals.
The room itself was immaculate—candles flickering faintly, fairy lights tracing the corners, and the soft shimmer of emerald accents everywhere. She recognized every detail: the silk sheets, the carefully chosen pillows, the subtle scent of Rhea's perfume lingering in the air.
Ling's lips curved in a slow, dangerous smile.
"So… this is all your doing," she whispered, almost to herself, eyes scanning the room.
Her gaze fell on Rhea, who stood near the doorway, heart pounding, cheeks flushed under the dim light.
"You kept your promise," Ling said softly, walking closer. "Hidden for Saturday and Sunday. All… for me."
Rhea swallowed, nervous yet steady. "I… I told you. I'll follow my promise. Just… stay, please. Stay with me."
Ling let her hand hover above the bouquet, then touched the edge of Rhea's waist instead, a silent claim, a gentle but possessive reminder of her presence.
"You're beautiful," Ling murmured, voice low, almost dangerous, her breath brushing Rhea's ear. "And clever. I like how you plan everything… for me."
Rhea's eyes widened slightly, unable to hide the blush spreading across her cheeks. She knew Ling didn't yet know the full truth—the revenge, Kane, everything—but for this moment, she didn't want Ling to.
Ling's hands moved slowly, deliberately tracing Rhea's arms before settling on her shoulders. "Stay here with me," she whispered again. "No one else. Only us. Just like we promised."
Rhea nodded, unable to speak, feeling both safe and destabilized at once—her heart caught between exhilaration and fear, knowing she had perfectly controlled the secret for now.
Ling smiled, leaning slightly closer, just enough that Rhea could feel the heat of her breath.
"You did all this… for me?" Ling teased lightly, voice silk and steel intertwined. "You're insane… but I like it."
Rhea's lips twitched into a small, nervous smile, tears threatening but held back. She only nodded, letting Ling's presence wash over her.
In that moment, the world outside ceased to exist. Only the room, the bouquet, the lights, and the dangerous intimacy between them remained.
Ling says lightly. "You vanished."
Rhea doesn't answer immediately.
Her eyes are red. Not crying — recently stopped.
Ling notices. Always does.
"Hey," Ling says, stepping closer. Teasing, but quieter now.
"Was that supposed to scare me? Because it worked."
Rhea exhales, shaky.
"I… I want to tell you something."
Ling's smile softens, crooked.
"Okay."
She reaches out, brushes her knuckles against Rhea's wrist. Not holding. Claiming proximity.
"Yes," Ling says again. "Tell me."
Rhea opens her mouth—
Her phone vibrates.
She flinches.
Ling arches a brow.
"Mother?"
Rhea looks down at the screen. Ling's mother name. Calling again.
"I'll call her later," Ling says quickly, silencing it.
"She's downstairs anyway. Party, right?"
"She've been calling me nonstop."
Rhea's throat tightens.
"No," she says quietly.
"They… they all left."
Ling freezes.
"What?"
"They left the party," Rhea repeats.
"Early."
Ling frowns, confusion breaking through control.
"Why would they leave?"
Rhea doesn't answer fast enough.
The door opens.
Kane steps in without knocking.
Perfect timing. Perfect posture.
Rhea turns toward her instantly — a warning in her eyes.
Not now.
Kane smiles.
Not warm. Not cruel.
Calculated.
"Oh," Kane says pleasantly. "You're both here."
Ling straightens, respectful by habit.
"Aunt," she says. "I thought everyone was celebrating."
Kane's gaze flicks to the candles.
To the wine.
To the bouquet.
Something like amusement crosses her face.
"They were," Kane replies smoothly.
"Some people don't like old memories."
Ling blinks.
"Memories?"
Rhea's nails dig into her palm.
Kane walks closer, resting a hand on Rhea's shoulder — light pressure, unmistakable ownership.
"Rhea gets emotional on my birthday," Kane says.
"She's sensitive. You know how daughters are."
Ling looks at Rhea immediately.
Rhea forces a smile.
"I'm fine."
Ling doesn't believe it — but she doesn't challenge Kane.
Not yet.
Kane turns to Ling again.
"You should go enjoy the party. We'll talk later."
Later.
Ling hesitates. Her eyes move between them.
She reaches out, adjusts the fall of Rhea's hair near her cheek — intimate, possessive, silent.
"I'll wait," Ling says softly.
Rhea nods.
"I know."
Ling leaves.
The door closes.
The air collapses.
Kane's hand tightens on Rhea's shoulder.
"So," Kane says quietly.
"You were about to tell her something?"
Rhea swallows.
"No."
Kane smiles wider.
"Good."
Ling steps out onto the balcony, phone pressed to her ear, irritation tight in her jaw.
"Mom," Ling says. "Why are you calling like this? I told you I'm at the party."
Eliza's voice is sharp. Controlled. Urgent.
"Leave. Now."
Ling exhales a short laugh.
"You don't order me around at social events."
"This isn't social," Eliza snaps. "This is a mistake."
Ling straightens.
"What are you talking about?"
There's a pause on the line. A dangerous one. Eliza is choosing words carefully — only half, never the full blade.
"Rhea Nior," Eliza says finally, cold and clipped.
"She never loved you."
Ling's fingers tighten around the phone.
"Don't say her name like that."
"She's playing you," Eliza continues. "Everything tonight — the timing, the space, the emotions — it's not what you think."
Ling's voice drops.
"You don't know her."
"I know betrayal," Eliza replies. "And I know when my daughter is being positioned to fall."
Ling's chest rises, anger flaring fast and sharp.
"She wouldn't do that," Ling says.
"She doesn't even know how to lie properly."
Eliza scoffs.
"That's exactly why she's dangerous. Because you are arguing with me for her."
Ling turns away from the balcony railing, pacing once.
"You walked out without telling me," Ling says. "You saw her mother and suddenly this happens. That's not coincidence — that's your prejudice."
Eliza goes silent for a beat.
Then, carefully:
"There are histories you are not ready to hear."
Ling stops.
"Then don't start them halfway," Ling says flatly.
"Either trust me — or stay out of it."
"You're choosing her over your family?" Eliza asks, low.
Ling doesn't hesitate.
"I'm choosing myself."
Eliza's voice hardens.
"If you stay tonight," she says, "don't say I didn't warn you."
Ling pulls the phone from her ear, staring at the dark screen for a second before ending the call.
Her jaw is clenched. Eyes burning.
She turns back toward the room.
Toward Rhea.
Still believing.
The door opens again.
Ling steps back inside.
Kane is still there.
The candles flicker — too quiet now.
Ling doesn't look at Rhea first. Her eyes go straight to Kane.
"I want to talk to her," Ling says. Calm on the surface. Fractured underneath.
Kane tilts her head, amused.
"Why?" she asks lightly.
"What's left to hear? Your mother already told you everything she could."
Ling's jaw tightens.
"How do you—"
Kane laughs. Soft. Mocking.
"You still don't understand," Kane says. "That's almost impressive."
She turns slowly toward Rhea.
"You did it well," Kane says, approving.
"Look at her. She doesn't even trust her own family anymore."
Rhea's breath stutters.
"That," Kane continues, her hand settling on Rhea's shoulder, "is my daughter."
Ling's eyes snap to Rhea now.
Confusion. Hurt. Something cracking.
Kane turns back to Ling, smile sharp.
"And you," Kane says plainly, "are so dumb."
Ling flinches.
Not outwardly — but her eyes glass.
She takes one step toward Rhea.
"Is this true?" Ling asks quietly.
Her voice isn't angry.
That's worse.
Before Rhea can speak —
Kane steps forward, cutting the space between them.
"She didn't come here by accident," Kane says smoothly.
"She didn't challenge you by mistake. She didn't stay because she was weak."
Ling shakes her head once.
"No."
"She knew exactly who you were," Kane continues.
"Your power. Your devotion. Your obsession."
Ling's breath goes shallow.
"She let you fall," Kane says.
"And you did. Beautifully."
Ling looks at Rhea again — searching, desperate now.
Rhea's lips part.
"Ling—"
Kane tightens her grip on Rhea's shoulder.
"She hasn't denied it, has she?" Kane says calmly.
"Look at her."
Ling does.
Rhea's eyes are wet. Her hands trembling.
Not guilt-free. Not cruel.
Human.
Ling misreads it.
Her voice breaks — just once.
"Answer me."