The next morning, Rose Liu rose as she always did—at five sharp.
The mansion was still asleep when she slipped out of bed and moved quietly through the halls. She brewed a cup of coffee exactly to Mr. Martin's preference: strong, unsweetened, with a precise amount of cream. She remembered every detail. She always did.
Holding the warm cup carefully, she headed to his room.
Mr. Martin glanced at the coffee, his expression unreadable. Without saying a word, he turned and walked away.
Rose stood there for a moment, confusion flickering across her face. She had never understood him—why he could be so distant, so cold, yet still show her warmth in unexpected moments. Swallowing the familiar ache in her chest, she placed the coffee gently on his study table and left.
The door closed softly behind her.
Only then did Mr. Martin turn back. He picked up the cup he had deliberately ignored and drank deeply, as though it were the best thing he had tasted all day.Although he loved Rose, loved her more deeply than he ever allowed himself to show, his affection remained locked behind silence and restraint.
Rose walked down the hallway, her steps unhurried. She had no intention of stopping—no intention of listening. But voices drifted through the air, sharp and unmistakable, pulling her to a halt.
"Mom, why do I always have to take her along?" Sally's voice rang out. "Why does Dad defend her so much? She's just an adopted daughter. I'm the real one here."
Rose's breath caught.
Naomi's voice followed, lower but edged with urgency. "You need to behave in front of your father. Learn to tolerate her when he's around. She's the fake—and you are the real one."
The words struck Rose like a blow.
Her vision blurred. She didn't realize she had lost her balance until her body collided with the wall outside Sally's door, the sound sharp and unmistakable.
"Who's there?" Naomi snapped.
The door flew open.
Rose barely had time to lift her head before a slap landed hard against her cheek. The sting burned instantly, her skin throbbing.
"I didn't hear anything," Rose said quickly, her voice trembling. "I was just coming back from giving Dad his coffee—"
"Oh, please," Sally cut in coldly. "You're trying to get on Dad's good side, aren't you? Get lost."
Her voice echoed down the hallway.
Rose learned early to keep her head lowered, her voice gentle, her presence unobtrusive. She learned where she stood in the Liu household—not as a daughter, but as an accessory. Useful when needed. Invisible when not.
"Get ready. Pick—pick only the best. The most expensive."
Naomi pressed a card into Sally's hand. "This is yours. Spend it all if you want."
Rose turned and ran.
Tears streamed down her face as she shut herself into her small room. It wasn't the first time she had been slapped without reason. It wasn't the first time she had been called a stand-in. A fake.
But each time, it hurt more than the last.
She reached for her small notebook, hands shaking, and wrote something down—words only she would ever see.
And somewhere in the silence, something inside Rose Lu quietly hardened.
"Madam, Miss Sally's breakfast is ready," Matilda called softly.
"Get lost!" Sally snapped as she stormed out of her room. "You low-class fools are all driving me crazy."
She adjusted her makeup in the mirror, ensuring every strand of hair was flawless, every trace of irritation carefully concealed. Moments later, she headed downstairs—only to find Rose already seated at the dining table.
Rose sat calmly, composed, as though she hadn't been crying just minutes earlier. Her posture was straight, her expression unreadable.
The television flickered to life.
"…Rhaegon Hale, multi-billionaire CEO of Essence Group and Hale Corporation, and the infamous playboy of DemanViel, was spotted on a date last night with Catherine Shaw, the chairman's daughter of Filton Group…"
Images flashed across the screen.
"Wasn't he with Camilla just last week? Matilda's voice chimed in. "Or was it Phoebe? Today it's Catherine. He changes women like he changes clothes."
Matilda paused mid-step, eyes fixed on the screen, unaware that her murmured commentary had been heard.
Sally's gaze snapped toward her, sharp and venomous. "Get lost," she barked.
Matilda flinched. "S-sorry, Madam. I was distracted."
"These servants are really growing wings," Sally scoffed, flipping her hair as she took her seat. Then her eyes returned to the screen, her lips curving slowly. "But honestly… with that face, that power, that wealth—what woman wouldn't throw herself at him?"
Naomi smiled faintly, lifting her teacup. "They're all just pawns."
Her tone was smooth, confident. "None of them compare to you."
Sally straightened slightly.
"In the end," Naomi continued, "you'll be the rightful Mrs. Hale. He's already betrothed to you. Don't forget that."
Sally's lips curled into a satisfied smile as she glanced once more at the screen.
Across the table, Rose remained silent.
But her fingers tightened slowly around her spoon.
Naomi spoke calmly to Sally, though turmoil churned violently beneath her composed exterior.
I need to hasten this engagement, she thought grimly. Before one of those cheap girls steals Sally's chance to climb into the massive world of wealth.
Across the table, Rose muttered something under her breath without realizing it.
"What did you just say?" Sally snapped, turning sharply toward her.
"Nothing," Rose replied softly, lowering her gaze.
"Good," Sally said coldly. "Because Rhaegon Hale will never look at you. He's mine. Don't you ever let such thoughts cross your mind."
Her eyes narrowed. "Know your place. The only man who befits you is that dainty, ragged baker of yours."
"That's enough."
Mr. Martin's voice cut through the tension like a blade.
Both girls stiffened.
"You shouldn't forget you're going shopping today," he continued evenly. "Get something appropriate. Important guests will be attending the banquet."
"Dad," Sally said quickly, seizing the moment, "are we going to see him, Rhaegon Hale?"
"I've sent an invitation to the Hale family," Mr. Martin replied as he picked up his briefcase. "Whether he attends is out of my hands."
With that, he turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing down the hall.
Sally's excitement flared instantly. She rose from her seat, smoothing her dress. "I need to look my best."
She turned sharply. "Matilda!"
"Yes, Madam?"
"We're going shopping. Now."
Rose hesitated. The thought of trailing behind Sally like an accessory made her chest tighten—but she knew she had no choice.
Silently, she stood and followed.