Rhea's room
Rhea was adjusting the thin emerald chain at her waist when the door opened abruptly.
"Rhea."
Shyra's voice was sharp now. Real.
Rhea turned.
"What—"
"The Kwongs are here."
Rhea froze.
"…Ling?" she asked immediately.
"No," Shyra said. "Her family."
The room felt suddenly smaller.
Rhea's hands dropped to her sides.
"They weren't supposed to—" Her voice caught. "I told Ling only her."
"I know," Shyra said quickly. "But I think Mom called her."
Rhea's breath stuttered.
Her eyes—still lined perfectly, still sharp—filled despite her.
"This can't happen, what if—" she whispered. "What if Ling finds out before I tell her everything?"
Shyra stepped closer.
"She won't. I've seated them far. They haven't seen Mom."
Rhea pressed her lips together, hard.
"But they know her," she said. "They know Mom."
"Yes," Shyra admitted. "That's why I came."
Rhea turned away, blinking fast.
All the confidence she'd built—every deliberate choice, every calculated lie—wavered for the first time that night.
"I was going to tell her," Rhea said. "Tonight. Everything. The revenge. Mom. All of it."
"I know."
"What if she hears it from someone else?" Rhea's voice dropped. "What if she thinks every touch was strategy?"
Shyra didn't answer immediately.
She watched her sister—the girl who never cried, never begged—standing there in emerald silk and fear.
"Then you won't let that happen," Shyra said quietly.
Rhea swallowed.
Her fingers curled around the fabric of Ling's black shirt folded on the chair.
"I won't survive it," she admitted. "If she looks at me like I was lying the whole time."
Shyra stepped in, gripping her shoulders.
"Listen to me. You're still in control. Ling isn't here yet. You tell her first."
Rhea nodded once.
Slowly.
Her eyes hardened—but they were wet.
"Keep them away," Rhea said. "Please."
"I will," Shyra promised. "Get ready. I'll buy you time."
Shyra turned to leave, then paused.
"She's coming with a bouquet," she added softly. "Rina texted me."
Rhea closed her eyes.
Just for a second.
Then she opened them again—sharp, resolved, terrified.
"Okay," she said. "Then I won't waste it."
Shyra slipped back into the corridor, her face resetting into calm.
The Kwong family sat waiting—unaware, observant, patient.
And somewhere on the road, Ling Kwong was still alone, bouquet on the seat, believing the night was about love.
Not collision.
Rhea didn't rush.
That alone said everything.
She walked into the side lounge like she owned the air—emerald silk catching light, heels silent, posture flawless. The room shifted the second she appeared.
Rina looked up first and grinned.
"There she is."
Victor stood politely.
"Good evening, Rhea."
Dadi's sharp eyes swept her from head to toe, amused.
"So the girl who made my granddaughter forget her schedule."
Rhea smiled—controlled, respectful, warm enough to pass.
"Good evening, Dadi."
Eliza didn't smile.
She assessed.
Every detail. The waist chain barely visible when Rhea moved. The calm. The confidence. The fact that Ling wasn't here yet—and Rhea was.
Rina leaned back into the couch, casual.
"Your mom called Ling, you know. Said she wanted to surprise you. With family."
Rhea nodded easily, as if this was expected.
"Hmm."
Eliza's eyes sharpened.
"We would like to meet her," she said plainly. "Where is she?"
The question landed like a blade.
Rhea didn't flinch.
"She's busy with guests," Rhea replied smoothly. "Birthday host duties."
Eliza tilted her head.
"Strange. We were told it was a surprise for you not her."
"It is," Rhea said. "For me."
Dadi chuckled under her breath.
"Hmm. Strong answer."
Rina laughed.
"Aunt, relax. It's a party, not a board meeting."
Eliza ignored her.
"I insist," Eliza said, standing now. "We should greet her properly."
Before Rhea could respond—
Shyra appeared.
Perfect timing. Too perfect.
"There you all are," Shyra said brightly. "I was wondering where you'd gone."
She moved instantly—subtly—placing herself between Eliza and the hallway.
"Mom's overwhelmed," Shyra continued. "She asked me to keep her away from… formal conversations."
Eliza's gaze flicked to Shyra.
"Avoiding us?"
"Protecting the evening," Shyra corrected gently. "She wants tonight peaceful."
Rhea met Shyra's eyes for half a second.
A silent thank you.
A silent panic.
Victor cleared his throat, diplomatic.
"If it's her birthday, we can wait."
Eliza looked unconvinced.
"And Ling?" she asked Rhea again. "She's late."
Rhea's fingers curled once at her side.
"She likes entrances," Dadi said quietly. "You know her."
Rina smiled knowingly.
"Oh, we do."
Eliza studied Rhea—long, measured, dangerous.
"You seem very… comfortable here," Eliza said.
Rhea met her gaze head-on.
"It's my home."
A beat.
Rina broke the tension, clapping once.
"Okay! Enough staring contests. Rhea, you look insane, by the way. Ling's going to lose her mind."
Rhea allowed herself a small, real smile at that.
"Thanks."
Shyra gestured toward the seating again.
"Please, stay. I'll let you know when Mom's ready."
Eliza hesitated.
Then sat.
But her eyes didn't leave Rhea—not even when Rhea turned away.
Rhea walked back toward the corridor, steps steady.
Only when she was out of sight did her breath shake.
Ling wasn't here yet.
Time was bleeding.
Rhea stopped in the corridor.
Not because someone called her.
Because no one did.
She pulled her phone out slowly, thumb hovering for half a second longer than usual. Ling's name sat there—too familiar, too dangerous to look at tonight.
She dialed.
Once.
The line rang.
Rhea turned slightly, back to the wall, emerald fabric cool against her skin. Her jaw tightened with every second.
Ring.
Ring.
No answer.
Her brows pulled together—not anger, not hurt yet. Calculation. Ling never ignored her. Ever.
She ended the call herself.
Too fast.
"…Fine," she muttered under her breath.
Across the city, Ling's phone vibrated against the seat.
Ling glanced at it once—Rhea's name flashing.
She smiled.
A slow, knowing curve of her lips as she turned her eyes back to the road.
"Getting restless already," Ling murmured to herself, adjusting herself.
She let the phone ring out.
Didn't decline it.
Didn't answer.
Control.
She imagined Rhea pacing. Frowning. Pretending she didn't care. Ling liked that image too much to ruin it.
She reached over, fingers brushing the bouquet wrapped beside her, emerald ribbon catching the light.
"Wait," Ling said quietly, as if Rhea could hear her.
"I'm coming."
Back in the mansion, Rhea stared at her phone.
No call back.
Her chest tightened—not romantically, not softly—strategically.
"Idiot," she whispered. "This isn't a game tonight."
She slipped the phone into her clutch and straightened her shoulders.
No panic. Not yet.
If Ling thought this was teasing—
Rhea would let her.
For now.
She turned back toward the sitting area where the Kwongs waited, her face already reset into calm, composed perfection.
But this time—
Her steps were faster.