Ling steps out onto the balcony, phone pressed to her ear, irritation tight in her jaw.
"Mom," Ling says. "Why are you calling like this? I told you I'm at the party."
Eliza's voice is sharp. Controlled. Urgent.
"Leave. Now."
Ling exhales a short laugh.
"You don't order me around at social events."
"This isn't social," Eliza snaps. "This is a mistake."
Ling straightens.
"What are you talking about?"
There's a pause on the line. A dangerous one. Eliza is choosing words carefully — only half, never the full blade.
"Rhea Nior," Eliza says finally, cold and clipped.
"She never loved you."
Ling's fingers tighten around the phone.
"Don't say her name like that."
"She's playing you," Eliza continues. "Everything tonight — the timing, the space, the emotions — it's not what you think."
Ling's voice drops.
"You don't know her."
"I know betrayal," Eliza replies. "And I know when my daughter is being positioned to fall."
Ling's chest rises, anger flaring fast and sharp.
"She wouldn't do that," Ling says.
"She doesn't even know how to lie properly."
Eliza scoffs.
"That's exactly why she's dangerous. Because you are arguing with me for her."
Ling turns away from the balcony railing, pacing once.
"You walked out without telling me," Ling says. "You saw her mother and suddenly this happens. That's not coincidence — that's your prejudice."
Eliza goes silent for a beat.
Then, carefully:
"There are histories you are not ready to hear."
Ling stops.
"Then don't start them halfway," Ling says flatly.
"Either trust me — or stay out of it."
"You're choosing her over your family?" Eliza asks, low.
Ling doesn't hesitate.
"I'm choosing myself."
Eliza's voice hardens.
"If you stay tonight," she says, "don't say I didn't warn you."
Ling pulls the phone from her ear, staring at the dark screen for a second before ending the call.
Her jaw is clenched. Eyes burning.
She turns back toward the room.
Toward Rhea.
Still believing.
The door opens again.
Ling steps back inside.
Kane is still there.
The candles flicker — too quiet now.
Ling doesn't look at Rhea first. Her eyes go straight to Kane.
"I want to talk to her," Ling says. Calm on the surface. Fractured underneath.
Kane tilts her head, amused.
"Why?" she asks lightly.
"What's left to hear? Your mother already told you everything she could."
Ling's jaw tightens.
"How do you—"
Kane laughs. Soft. Mocking.
"You still don't understand," Kane says. "That's almost impressive."
She turns slowly toward Rhea.
"You did it well," Kane says, approving.
"Look at her. She doesn't even trust her own family anymore."
Rhea's breath stutters.
"That," Kane continues, her hand settling on Rhea's shoulder, "is my daughter."
Ling's eyes snap to Rhea now.
Confusion. Hurt. Something cracking.
Kane turns back to Ling, smile sharp.
"And you," Kane says plainly, "are so dumb."
Ling flinches.
Not outwardly — but her eyes glass.
She takes one step toward Rhea.
"Is this true?" Ling asks quietly.
Her voice isn't angry.
That's worse.
Before Rhea can speak —
Kane steps forward, cutting the space between them.
"She didn't come here by accident," Kane says smoothly.
"She didn't challenge you by mistake. She didn't stay because she was weak."
Ling shakes her head once.
"No."
"She knew exactly who you were," Kane continues.
"Your power. Your devotion. Your obsession."
Ling's breath goes shallow.
"She let you fall," Kane says.
"And you did. Beautifully."
Ling looks at Rhea again — searching, desperate now.
Rhea's lips part.
"Ling—"
Kane tightens her grip on Rhea's shoulder.
"She hasn't denied it, has she?" Kane says calmly.
"Look at her."
Ling does.
Rhea's eyes are wet. Her hands trembling.
Not guilt-free. Not cruel.
Human.
Ling misreads it.
Her voice breaks — just once.
"Answer me."
Rhea swallows.
Before she can —
Kane delivers the final slice.
"She promised me," Kane says softly, "that she would break a Kwong."
Silence detonates.
Ling staggers back half a step.
Her chest hurts now. Visibly.
She laughs once — breathless, disbelieving.
"That's not—" Ling whispers. "That's not who she is."
Kane smiles.
"That's exactly who she is."
Ling looks at Rhea.
Waiting.
Trust still alive.
And that is what makes it lethal.
Kane exhales slowly, almost satisfied.
"I knew," she says, calm as glass, "that you wouldn't believe words."
Ling's head lifts.
Kane reaches into her phone.
Rhea's breath catches sharply.
"No—"
Kane presses play.
Rhea's voice fills the room.
Light. Laughing. Careless.
"She's falling so fast, mom. It's insane."
"Ling Kwong — the great Ling Kwong — she doesn't even see it."
laughs
"She thinks she's in control. She's not."
"Give me time. I'll break her properly."
Ling freezes.
The room tilts.
The voice continues — softer now, intimate.
"You wanted revenge, right?"
"I'll give it to you."
"She's already weak."
The recording ends.
Silence screams.
Kane phone slips from Ling's fingers and hits the floor.
She doesn't bend to pick it up.
Her eyes stay on Rhea.
Wide. Shattered. Still searching.
"That's…" Ling whispers.
"That's edited."
Kane smiles gently.
"Say it again until it sounds real."
Ling takes a step toward Rhea.
Her voice is raw now — stripped of dominance, stripped of armor.
"Tell me," Ling says.
"Tell me this isn't real."
Rhea's lips tremble.
Her throat closes.
Kane steps in front of her.
"She can't," Kane says simply.
"Because she said it."
Ling's breath breaks — an ugly sound she's never made before.
"You laughed," Ling says, eyes burning.
"You laughed about me."
Rhea shakes her head, tears spilling now.
"That was— I didn't mean—"
Kane cuts in instantly.
"She meant survival," Kane says.
"And you were convenient."
Ling staggers back as if struck.
Her back hits the table. The bouquet falls. Roses scatter across the floor.
Ling looks down at them.
A short, broken laugh leaves her.
"So that's it," she says hoarsely.
"That's what I am."
She lifts her eyes to Rhea one last time.
Not angry.
Worse.
Empty.
"I trusted you," Ling says quietly.
Kane watches the damage settle before delivering the final line.
"You see?" Kane says to Rhea, almost fond.
"She believed even after hearing it."
"Congratulations," Ling says to Kane.
"You got your revenge."
She turns to Rhea.
Her voice is flat now. Distant. Controlled.
"You succeeded."
Kane said "I should leave now. You two talk."
She left with a smirk of victory on her face.