Ling turned back toward the mansion, shoulders still tense.
The moment she stepped inside—
Dadi burst out laughing.
"Oh—I'll drop you," Dadi said, perfectly mimicking Ling's calm authority, straightening her back dramatically.
Rina instantly joined in, flipping her hair.
"No," she said in an exaggeratedly sweet tone, "I have my driver."
They both collapsed into laughter.
Ling stopped dead in her tracks.
She stared at them, unimpressed. "Very funny."
Dadi wiped tears from her eyes. "Ah, my fierce granddaughter—sent away so politely."
Rina added, grinning, "I've never seen someone reject your offer that smoothly."
Ling rolled her eyes hard. "You're both impossible."
"And yet," Dadi said knowingly, "you followed her anyway."
Ling opened her mouth—then shut it.
Rina smirked. "Silence. Dangerous."
Ling crossed her arms. "She didn't want me to."
Dadi stepped closer, patting Ling's arm. "That's why it hurt."
Ling looked away, jaw tightening.
"I don't care," she muttered.
Rina raised a brow. "You didn't even glare."
Dadi chuckled. "Progress."
Ling scoffed. "Go to sleep. Both of you."
She walked off, boots heavy against the floor.
Behind her, Dadi leaned toward Rina and whispered, amused and certain—
"She's gone."
Rina nodded, eyes bright.
"Completely."
Eliza's voice cut through the laughter, calm but firm.
"Enough. Why are you both teasing my tiger?"
She moved closer to Ling, smoothing an imaginary crease on Ling's shoulder, protective instinct obvious.
"Don't."
Dadi glanced at Eliza, unimpressed. "Oh please. She can rule a university but not survive two jokes?"
Ling huffed. "I'm fine."
Dadi's eyes sharpened slightly. "Good. Then remember tonight."
Ling froze.
"The condition," Dadi added lightly. "The promise you made."
Ling exhaled. "Yeah. I remember."
Dadi straightened. "Ten minutes. My room."
She turned, already walking away.
Rina followed instantly, barely containing her grin. "Oh this is going to be fun."
Ling shot her a warning look. "Rina."
Rina only laughed and skipped after Dadi.
Eliza watched them go, then turned back to Ling, studying her carefully.
"So," she said, tone softening, "the game."
Ling's face changed immediately—lighter, animated.
"She's terrible at football," Ling said, smiling despite herself. "But stubborn. Won't quit even when she can't breathe."
Eliza smiled too. Too smoothly.
"And you enjoy teaching her?"
Ling nodded without thinking. "Yeah."
Then caught herself.
Eliza noticed.
"Good," Eliza said, brushing Ling's hair back gently. "As long as you're happy."
Ling relaxed, warmth blooming in her chest. "I am."
As Ling walked away toward her room to get ready for Dadi's summons, Eliza stayed where she was.
Alone.
Her smile slowly faded.
Fire, she thought again.
Nior Mansion
Rhea took Amaya into her arms the moment she reached home again, lifting her high until the baby squealed.
"Ninna," Amaya giggled.
Rhea kissed her cheeks again and again, making exaggerated sounds until Amaya laughed harder—pure, ringing, unaware.
Rhea laughed with her.
For a few seconds, it felt real.
Kane watched from the doorway, arms crossed.
Rhea settled onto the couch, Amaya curled against her chest, small fingers clutching Rhea's collar. She looked up at her mother, eyes sharp again—calculated.
"She's reacting exactly how we expected," Rhea said lightly, almost casually. "Smiling. Chasing. Losing discipline."
Kane walked closer. "Kwong?"
"Yes." Rhea's lips curved. "She thinks she's in control."
Amaya babbled, tapping Rhea's chin. Rhea kissed her forehead and continued, voice calm.
"She challenged me. Training. Games. Private time."
A pause.
"She's already invested."
Kane's gaze narrowed. "And you?"
Rhea met her eyes without flinching. "I'm fine."
She adjusted Amaya gently, rocking her. "I don't feel anything. I'm just… playing along."
Kane studied her daughter for a long moment, searching for cracks.
Rhea smiled then—confident, reassuring.
"She's getting trapped, Mom. Slowly. Cleanly."
Kane exhaled, a rare sound of release. A short laugh escaped her. "Good."
Rhea laughed too—soft, controlled, deliberate.
"She won't see it coming," Rhea added. "She's never been denied before."
Kane nodded. "That's how Victor was."
Silence flickered between them.
Rhea leaned her cheek briefly against Amaya's hair. "I won't break like you did," she said quietly. "I promise."
Kane reached out, resting a hand on Rhea's shoulder—firm, grounding.
"Remember," she said. "You finish what you start."
Rhea nodded. "I will."
Kane turned away, satisfied.
Rhea looked down at Amaya again, brushing her nose against the baby's.
Amaya giggled.
Rhea smiled.
But when the laughter faded, when the room went quiet—
Rhea's arms tightened around Amaya just a little too much.
Because somewhere beneath the plan, beneath the confidence—
Ling Kwong was no longer just a name.
And that was the one variable Rhea hadn't told her mother about.
The house grew quiet.
The lights dimmed.
Only the soft hum of the night remained.
Rhea stayed on the couch with Amaya curled against her chest, warm and heavy with sleep. Tiny fingers were still tangled in Rhea's shirt.
Rhea brushed a kiss into Amaya's hair.
"You don't understand any of this, do you?" she whispered.
Amaya made a small sound in her sleep, shifting closer.
Rhea smiled faintly.
"That's good," she murmured. "Stay like this. Untouched."
She adjusted them both, laying back slightly, cradling Amaya protectively.
"I'm supposed to be strong," Rhea continued quietly. "Sharp. Cold. Like Mom."
Her throat tightened, but she kept going.
"But sometimes…" she exhaled, eyes fixed on the ceiling, "sometimes someone looks at me like I don't have to fight."
Amaya stirred, cheek pressing into Rhea's collarbone.
Rhea hugged her closer.
"That's dangerous," Rhea whispered. "Feeling safe is dangerous."
She laughed softly at herself. "I tell everyone I feel nothing. I even tell your grandma."
A pause.
"But my body doesn't listen."
Her fingers traced slow circles on Amaya's back.
"She holds my waist and I forget to breathe. She smiles and I forget why I came there in the first place."
Rhea swallowed.
"I'm not supposed to care," she said. "I'm supposed to break her."
Amaya's breathing evened out, steady and trusting.
Rhea pressed her lips to Amaya's forehead, lingering.
"You'd hate me if you understood, wouldn't you?" she whispered. "Or maybe you'd just hug me tighter."
She closed her eyes.
"I don't know how to do both," Rhea admitted. "Hurt someone… and still be me."
Amaya shifted, arms tightening instinctively around Rhea.
Rhea let out a shaky breath.
She curled fully around her niece, shielding her from the world, from the past, from herself.
"Sleep, my heart," she murmured. "I'll figure it out."
But in the dark, with no one watching—
Rhea Nior held onto innocence as if it could anchor her.
And for the first time since the plan began—
She wasn't sure it could.