Ling goes.
Of course she does.
She steps fully into the living room light—
black sports bra, abs sharply defined, shoulders relaxed like this is a casual visit and not a loaded grenade rolling across marble floors.
Kane Nior is seated on the sofa, posture perfect, tea in hand.
Shyra sits nearby with Amaya in her arms, gently rocking her, mid-conversation.
Ling scratches the back of her neck like she's mildly embarrassed.
"Hello," Ling says easily.
Then, smiling like she just said good evening to a neighbor—
"Mother-in-law."
The room stops breathing.
Kane's eyes widen—not in rage.
In pure, stunned recalculation.
"This—" Kane says slowly, eyes flicking once over Ling's exposed midriff, then back to her face, "—is… unexpected."
Ling nods like she agrees.
"I didn't want to come like this," Ling says, gesturing vaguely at herself. "Your daughter texted. I even said no."
She glances toward the stairs.
"She forced me," Ling continues smoothly. "I Climbed through the window. She even pulled my shirt off."
Ling lifts both hands, palms up, innocent.
"See?" she adds. "Don't have it."
Kane's gaze snaps upstairs.
Rhea is frozen at the top of the staircase.
Kane shoots her a look—sharp, silent, lethal.
Rhea instinctively dips her head. Just slightly.
"No," Ling says immediately, turning back to Kane. "No problem. These things happen between future spouses."
Kane blinks. "Spouses?"
Ling nods. Calm. Certain.
"Yeah."
Rhea's head jerks up.
"What—"
Ling turns just enough to glance back at her.
"You said that," Ling says simply.
Rhea's eyes go wide.
"I did not—"
Ling has already moved on.
Her attention shifts—to Shyra.
Shyra is staring now, expression caught somewhere between disbelief and a slow, dawning oh.
"You're Ling Kwong," Shyra says flatly.
Ling smiles at her. "Hi. We've met. After the trip."
Shyra smiled. "Figures."
Ling's gaze drops then—to Amaya.
Her expression changes. Not soft. Focused. Intent.
She steps closer.
"Hello, baby," Ling says, crouching slightly to Amaya's level. "You're famous, you know."
Amaya gurgles, fascinated.
Ling tilts her head. "Rhea and I are planning to have a baby like you."
The words land heavy.
Shyra stiffens.
Kane's fingers tighten around her teacup.
Rhea nearly chokes on air.
"Ling—" Rhea hisses from upstairs.
Ling straightens and looks back at Kane, unbothered.
"I'll go," Ling says cheerfully. "Didn't want to disturb family time."
She takes a step backward toward the hallway, then pauses.
"Bye," Ling says politely. "Mother-in-law."
Kane doesn't respond.
Ling lifts two fingers in a casual salute, then moves her lips silently, exaggerated, playful—
Bye, baby. she said looking at Rhea
Rhea's eyes go huge.
Ling turns and walks out, footsteps unhurried, like she didn't just light a match in a house soaked in gasoline.
The door closes.
Silence crashes down.
Kane turns slowly toward the stairs.
Rhea knows that look.
Shyra adjusts Amaya in her arms, watching Rhea carefully now.
Kane speaks at last.
"Come downstairs," she says.
Not loud.
Not angry.
Controlled.
Rhea swallows and steps forward.
Shyra presses her lips together hard.
She fails.
A short, strangled sound escapes her throat — half cough, half laugh — and she turns her face away, shoulders shaking just slightly.
She clears her throat, turning her face slightly away like she's studying Amaya far too seriously.
Kane notices.
Her eyes narrow.
"What," Kane asks calmly, "was that."
Rhea exhales sharply. "Nothing. She was being dramatic. I didn't say anything."
"You didn't say anything," Kane replies. Then her eyes drop — pointedly — to Rhea's legs. To the oversized shirt, barely grazing mid-thigh. And Ling's shirt over her lower body.
"And what," Kane continues, voice cool, "about what you're wearing?"
Rhea stiffens. "It's— it's coverage."
Shyra finally looks up again, lips twitching.
"It's covering nothing," Shyra says helpfully.
Rhea shoots her a glare sharp enough to cut glass. "Shyra."
Shyra lifts a hand innocently. "What? I'm just stating facts."
Kane doesn't look amused.
"You were covering yourself," Kane says slowly, eyes flicking back toward the door Ling exited through, "while making her naked?"
Rhea's mouth opens. Closes.
"Your clothes," Kane adds quietly, "weren't enough?"
Shyra coughs again. This time deliberately.
Rhea snaps, "She was lying."
Kane doesn't respond immediately.
Shyra tilts her head. "Lying about what, exactly?" she asks, curious now. "Because I didn't know you wanted a baby like Amaya."
Rhea whirls. "I never said that."
Kane's gaze sharpens instantly. "And especially with her?"
The question lands heavy.
Rhea's pulse hammers. "She was lying," she repeats, louder. Firmer. "She does that. She exaggerates."
Shyra hums, considering. Then, casually—
"By the way," Shyra adds, "she was… too damn hot. I mean— all the bold talk aside—"
"Shyra," Rhea snaps.
"I'm serious," Shyra continues, grinning now. "No objection from me if you bring home a niece like her."
"Shut up, Sherru," Rhea hisses.
Kane turns her head sharply toward Rhea.
"Why would she," Kane asks coldly, "say all this… if you haven't encouraged it?"
Rhea freezes.
The silence stretches.
Shyra shifts Amaya higher in her arms, finally sobering a little. "Mom," she says carefully, "you did notice Rhea didn't throw her out. Right?"
Rhea's head snaps toward her. "That's not—"
"She could have screamed," Shyra continues. "Called security. Instead she argued."
Kane's eyes never leave Rhea.
"You let her into your room," Kane says.
Rhea swallows. "She climbed in."
"And you didn't call anyone."
Rhea's jaw tightens. "I told her to leave."
Shyra smiles faintly. "Did she?"
Rhea doesn't answer.
Kane steps closer now. Her voice stays level, but the air tightens.
"That girl," Kane says, "walked into my house half-dressed, claimed you as her future, and walked out smiling."
She pauses.
"That doesn't happen," Kane continues, "without permission."
Rhea finally looks up. "I didn't give her any."
Kane studies her face like she's searching for fractures.
"We'll see," Kane says quietly.
She turns away, picking up her teacup again like the conversation is over — which somehow makes it worse.
Shyra watches Rhea for a long moment.
Then softly, teasing but edged with concern, she says, "You're in trouble."
Rhea exhales shakily.
From outside, far beyond the gate, a phone vibrates once in Rhea's pocket.
She doesn't need to check it to know who it's from.
Ling never leaves without leaving something behind.