Rose was dressed in quiet elegance as music swelled through the hall. Tonight was meant to celebrate two things;her birthday and her hard-earned success,but Sally arrived in a far more glamorous gown, dazzling by design, intent on stealing every glance meant for Rose.
The party flowed on, laughter rising, glasses clinking, until the lights dimmed for what should have been Rose's moment. The projector flickered to life, meant to display memories of her;snapshots of her childhood, her growth, her journey.
Instead, the screen filled with Sally.
Photographs of Sally in elaborate fashion designs flashed one after another, a curated display of her work from fashion school. Not a single image of Rose appeared.
A soft hush rippled through the crowd,voices layered with admiration as Sally's images filled the screen;her designer dresses, her flawless poses, each frame drawing awe and praise. Eyes lingered, cameras flashed, and approval rippled through the hall.
Sally's lips curved into a subtle smile.
It was not joy, nor pride but satisfaction.
Her plan had worked.The satisfaction of stealing the spotlight from Rose pleased her more than the applause itself.
Rose felt the sting immediately. She had known of course that Sally would do something. Still, the humiliation pressed hard against her chest. Though Rose's natural beauty outshone Sally's, the dress Sally wore was deliberately overwhelming, crafted to intimidate.
Rose said nothing.
She tightened her grip around Calista's hand, anchoring herself, swallowing the ache before it could show. Cameras lined every corner of the hall. One misstep, one visible crack, would become tomorrow's scandal. So Rose stood still, graceful, silent.
This was the first birthday party ever thrown for her.
All her life, her birthdays had passed quietly celebrated alone, if at all, hidden in the shadows. No candles. No songs. No acknowledgement. Or perhaps people remembered and simply chose not to care.
Mr. Martin, at least, always left something behind;a gift delivered from a distance. He would say it came from a client, or that it was something he no longer needed. Rose never questioned it. She had grown used to loving from afar.
That was why tonight mattered.
Not because of the crowd or the grandeur, but because this was the first time he had openly acknowledged her. That intention meant everything.
For Sally, extravagant parties were routine. Lavish themes, endless gifts, a fairytale life where she stood center stage like Cinderella while Rose lingered on the edges, carrying her bags, running errands, existing like an accessory.
A gentle tap on her shoulder broke Rose's thoughts.
"Guess who's here," Calista whispered, her eyes bright.
Rose turned and her breath caught.
Demetrius stood just behind them.
For once, he wasn't dusted in flour or stained with oil. He wore a suit simple, slightly stiff, but clearly chosen with care. Rose suspected he had spent his savings on it, or perhaps rented it just for tonight. Either way, he looked different. Handsome. Nervous.
To Rose, his appearance had never mattered. She loved him for who he was. Still, the effort warmed her heart.
"You look different," Calista blurted out cheerfully.
Rose pinched her lightly, knowing exactly where that was headed.
"Welcome," Rose said softly, her cheeks warming as she smiled.
Demetrius nodded, then his gaze drifted past her toward the glowing screen. He stared at the slideshow, eyes fixed, unreadable.
Calista leaned in again. "Don't you think he's staring a little too hard?"
Rose followed his gaze, unease blooming quietly in her chest.
Demetrius's eyes swept the hall restlessly, scanning every corner for Sally. Rose and Calista drifted toward the buffet table, the scent of food momentarily breaking the tension.
"Oh God, I can't wait to sink my teeth into all this," Calista groaned happily, already piling food onto her plate.
Her gaze suddenly shifted. She pointed discreetly toward a group of elite gentlemen gathered nearby. "Wow. Look at him. Isn't he dreamy? Totally my type."
"Calista, put your finger down before he notices," Rose whispered, tugging her hand.
"Oh, don't be such a party killer," Calista laughed. "He's gorgeous. I don't even know why you like Demetrius so much. You should be eyeing one of these rich elites. At least then you'd outshine Sally."
Before Rose could respond, a familiar sharp voice cut in.
"Some people must not get fed properly at home," Sally sneered, appearing beside them. "That's why they come here to beg for food. How pitiful."
Calista stiffened. "Did she just call us beggars?"
She took a step forward, fury flashing in her eyes, but Rose grabbed her arm. She knew better,any public confrontation would only make things harder for her inside the Liu's household.
Calista inhaled, then deliberately scooped more food onto her plate, ignoring Sally. Finally, she turned back with a sweet smile.
"You should eat too," Calista said calmly. "Maybe food will replace some of that bitterness in your mouth."
"Get out!" Sally snapped.
"This is Rose's birthday party," Calista shot back. "And I came with an invitation. Who exactly do you think you are to throw me out?"
Sally's gaze shifted—and landed on Demetrius.
Her eyes narrowed. She followed his line of sight and saw the way his stare lingered on her, even after she turned away.
That look alone filled her with satisfaction.
Demetrius, however, kept watching her long after she walked off.
Calista leaned closer and whispered teasingly, "Are you in love with Sally?"
Demetrius startled, snapping back to reality. "No. Of course not."
But Rose felt it—the heaviness in her chest, She felt suffocated.
Demetrius knew the truth himself. Marrying into the Liu family would elevate his modest life instantly. Sally was untouchable—far above his reach. Rose, however, was close enough. Safe enough.
Through her, he could enter a world of wealth, influence, and proximity to the woman he truly loved Sally.
He studied the mansion carefully its chandeliers, marble floors, priceless art, imagining himself owning it all one day.
He could not afford to let his carefully crafted image crumble now.
Although it was Rose's birthday, Demetrius hadn't brought her a gift. Rose didn't mind; she understood his struggles at the bakery.
What she didn't know was that he had brought a gift just not for her.
When Sally slipped out toward the pool area, Demetrius followed quietly.
"Sally," he called softly.
She turned, assessing him from head to toe with cool disdain.
"What?"
He produced a small, elegant box and opened it. Inside lay a gold necklace, delicately embroidered with her initial.
She glanced at it. "It's not diamond. Is it even real gold?"
"Yes," Demetrius said quickly.
She saw the devotion in his eyes and though she despised him, the satisfaction of knowing she was desired by someone Rose deeply loved amused her.
She pushed the box back into his hands. "It doesn't suit my status."
Then she leaned closer, her voice low and sharp. "If you really want to give me gifts—marry Rose."
Her intention wasn't kindness. It was strategy. If Rose married a low-class baker, she'd be eliminated forever.
Sally leaned in again, just close enough to make Demetrius's breath hitch—then shoved him back.
She smiled, victorious, and walked away.