"Ma'am."
Rhea straightens instantly, turning on her heel, expression cool.
One guard stands near the stairs. Another scans the wall.
"We sensed movement near the window," he says. "Possible intruder."
Rhea lifts a brow. "Here?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Rhea folds her arms. "Then I'll check."
The guard hesitates. "Protocol—"
"I live here," Rhea cuts in. "You work here."
Beat.
"…Yes, ma'am."
She walks toward the wall slowly, deliberately, heart hammering but face untouched by it. She looks up at the window, squints.
"Nothing," she says. "Probably a cat."
"A cat?" one guard repeats.
Rhea turns sharply. "Do you want me to wake my mother over a cat."
They stiffen immediately.
"No, ma'am."
Rhea gestures toward the far hedge. "Check there. I heard something earlier."
They move off, lights sweeping the opposite direction.
Rhea exhales only when they're gone.
She turns back toward the house and climbs the stairs, two at a time.
Ling is already inside, crouched, breathing steady, eyes bright.
She straightens when Rhea enters.
"That," Ling says softly, "was impressive."
Rhea storms toward her. "You will be the death of me."
Ling tilts her head. "You grabbed me."
Rhea snaps, "Don't."
Ling steps back obediently—for once.
Rhea points at the window. "You jump. You leave. Right now."
Ling glances at the foam. Then at Rhea.
"You distracted armed security," Ling says. "For me."
Rhea's voice trembles despite herself. "Don't make me regret it."
Ling's expression shifts—just a fraction. Something serious. Something restrained.
"I won't," Ling says quietly.
She steps onto the sill.
Rhea watches her like she's about to punch the air.
Ling pauses, fingers gripping the frame. "You hate me?"
Rhea doesn't hesitate. "Yes."
Ling smiles faintly. "Good."
She jumps.
Rhea rushes to the window just in time to see Ling land, roll, look up—and tap two fingers to her temple in a lazy salute.
Rhea slams the window shut.
Leans back against it, chest rising too fast.
Ling lands once.
Then—
she comes back up.
Rhea hasn't even locked the window properly when a shadow rises again, fingers gripping the sill.
"Ling—" Rhea hisses.
Ling swings one leg in, then the other, balanced like gravity is optional.
"One kiss," Ling says calmly. "Then I go."
Rhea stiffens. "No."
Ling tilts her head. "Then I'll go say goodnight to my mother-in-law."
She turns theatrically, one hand already reaching for the door.
Rhea's control snaps.
She grabs Ling by the collar and slams her back against the wall, forearm pressing in, breath sharp.
"Are you insane?" Rhea whispers furiously. "Do you want to die?"
Ling smiles—slow, pleased, eyes dark. "I like it when you pin me."
Rhea clenches her jaw. "Don't test me."
Ling lifts both hands in mock surrender. "Okay. Okay."
She leans in just a fraction. "If you're going to do it—don't do it like it's punishment."
Rhea freezes.
Ling's voice is low now. Controlled. Dangerous.
"No forcing," Ling murmurs. "I don't need that."
She shifts her weight backward, deliberately lifting both legs off the railing, preparing to drop.
Rhea's breath stutters. "Ling—"
Ling smiles. "Goodnight, baby—"
Rhea grabs her collar again, turns her back hard—
—and kisses her.
Not soft.
Not careful.
It's desperate, angry, unplanned.
Ling's eyes go wide.
Her body reacts before her mind does.
She doesn't kiss back.
She doesn't pull away.
She freezes, shock ripping straight through control.
Rhea realizes what she's done a second too late.
She shoves Ling back on reflex. "I—"
Ling's balance is already gone.
She falls.
Hard.
The foam mattress breaks the drop—but not the momentum.
Ling lands wrong.
A sharp, sickening crack of pain shoots up her arm.
Her breath leaves her in a soundless gasp.
She doesn't scream.
She doesn't curse.
She just lies there, staring up at the dark sky, arms spread on the mattress, chest rising too fast.
Her hand burns. Bone-deep heat. Wrong angle.
But none of that reaches her face.
Because all she can think about—
—is the kiss.
The way Rhea grabbed her.
The way she didn't hesitate.
The way her mouth felt—angry and shaking and real.
Above, Rhea at window.
Her eyes are wide.
Not angry now.
Terrified.
"Ling—" Her voice breaks. "Ling?"
Ling turns her head slightly. Looks up at her.
Smiles.
It's crooked. Unsteady. Still arrogant.
"You kissed me," Ling says softly.
Rhea grips the window frame. "You fell."
Ling exhales through clenched teeth. "Worth it."
Rhea's voice drops into panic. "Don't joke. Get up."
Ling tries.
Her arm screams.
Her jaw tightens—but she doesn't let a sound out.
She settles back instead. "It's fine."
"It's not fine," Rhea snaps, eyes glassy. "You're not moving."
Ling watches her, breathing measured. "You're worried."
Rhea shakes her head violently. "No. I'm angry."
Ling's smile deepens despite the pain. "Lie better."
Rhea disappears from the window for half a second—
Then the sound of the door unlocking.
Rhea rushes back, throws the window open wider. "Stay there."
Ling raises a brow. "Breaking your own rules now?"
Rhea's hands tremble on the sill. "Shut up."
Ling's voice softens. "You didn't mean to push."
Rhea's throat tightens. "I didn't mean to kiss you either."
Ling closes her eyes for a brief second, absorbing that.
When she opens them again, her gaze is steady. Possessive. Undone.
"Too late," Ling says quietly. "You did both."
Rhea stares at her, chest heaving, guilt and fear crashing together.
"Don't move," Rhea orders. "I'm coming down."
Ling's smile fades—just slightly. "Rhea."
"What."
Ling's voice drops. Serious now. "If you come down… you won't be able to pretend anymore."
Rhea doesn't answer.
She's already turning away from the window.
Ling lies back against the mattress, arm burning, heart louder than the pain.
Above her, hurried footsteps.