"Who is this?" she asked, picking up the phone. "Did you base your surgery on this model?"
Calin stiffened. She snatched the phone and locked the screen, her movements sharp.
"It's nothing," she said curtly. "Just some random person on social media."
Madam Ricci did not dwell on the photo. This was not the first time her daughter had gone under the knife, and likely not the last.
"By the way," she began, adjusting the hem of her sleeve, "when are we going to discuss your engagement with Bryce? If my daughter is to be engaged, it must be grand. Unmatched, that no other family should dare compare."
Calin's lips curved into a knowing smile.
"I heard Brother Shin's engagement is coming soon," she said lightly. "Some families are even pulling strings just to secure an invitation."
The shift in topic made Madam Ricci's expression stiffen. She had no desire for her daughter to still have some lingering feelings to a man who had never chosen her.
"Elder Madam Keir sent us an invitation, but I won't be attending." She waved her hand dismissively.
Calin chuckled. "Why not? It's unwise to hold grudges against the most powerful family. You of all people should understand how society works, Mom."
Madam Ricci opened her mouth to respond, but Calin's phone rang.
She stepped onto the balcony to take the call, when she returned, her mother was still waiting.
"I have to meet Brother Bryce."
"It's late," Madam Ricci began, but she swallowed the rest. With Calin, objections only ignited defiance.
"Be careful," she said instead, smiling gently.
---
Several men stood guard outside the villa.
The moment they recognized Calin, they nodded respectfully and stepped aside.
Inside, Bryce was seated at the dining table, calm and composed, as though the night itself had arranged itself around him.
"Your men don't seem to like me," Calin pouted as she approached.
"They're not ordinary bodyguards," he said evenly. "They've served the organization for years. You don't really expect them to bow and grin at you ingratiatingly, do you?"
Calin forced a small laugh, deciding not to push further. She didn't want to appear petty.
"Have you eaten?" Bryce asked, finally lifting his gaze. He gestured for the butler to prepare another plate.
She sat across from him, her expression soft and coy. "You called me during dinner. How could I let you wait?"
A faint smirk touched his lips.
As he studied her face, his gaze lingered a second too long.
"You look different tonight."
Calin's heartbeat skipped. Though she had openly told her mother about the surgery, she found herself reluctant to admit it here.
"It's just the makeup," she replied lightly, tilting her head. "Or maybe the glow of a girl in love."
Bryce's eyes remained on her, unreadable.
The candlelight flickered between them, as though even the flames were unsure which version of her they were looking at.
"The glow of a girl in love?" Bryce leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping lightly against the edge of the table in an unhurried rhythm. "Calin, you don't need to try so hard in front of me."
Calin's expression did not shift, but beneath the porcelain calm, discomfort prickled.
"I've been out of the country for more than a decade," Bryce continued smoothly. "How could I expect you to suddenly develop feelings for me? Besides, I'm aware of your long admiration for Shin."
Calin's heart flinched, she lowered her gaze to the steak on her plate and her appetite evaporated without ceremony.
"That might have been the case," she replied evenly. "But I told you what happened between him and me. After that, how could I possibly still like someone like him?"
She paused, then lifted her eyes again. "Anyway, don't you think I'm more beautiful than Yeri Zhi? It's honestly disappointing...his ideal woman."
Bryce studied her, the faintest curve touching his lips. It was not a smile but rather calculation.
"Yeri Zhi or whatever, you don't need to be the most beautiful woman in the room," he said at last. "You need to be the woman standing beside the most powerful man."
For a fleeting second, something electric surged through Calin's chest.
Security, possession, and promise.
The words wrapped around her like silk threaded with steel.
And yet, beneath that current, another thought pulsed stubbornly.
If only this man were Shin Keir.
"Are you so certain that his fiancée and Tristan are in cahoots?" Bryce asked.
"Not certain," Calin admitted. "But it's a possibility. There are too many coincidences. Didn't you investigate Yeri? What could she possibly have for Brother Shin to choose her? Do you truly believe someone like him looks at a woman at face value?"
Bryce did not answer immediately. He lifted the glass to his lips, letting the silence stretch between them like a drawn wire.
Her reasoning was not without merit.
A ruthless and shrewd man like Shin Keir, who had never once shown public interest in any woman, suddenly announcing an engagement?
It was a move that begged for scrutiny.
And in their world, men like Tristan Felan were hardly rare. The kind who smiled warmly while calculating your downfall behind steady eyes.
Loyalty and ambition often shared the same mask.
With the vast Keir fortune and Hexion within reach, who would willingly remain second in command when they could seize the throne itself?
Perhaps the one Bryce should be wary of was not Shin Keir. Perhaps it was Tristan.
He had investigated Tristan thoroughly. On paper, the man was immaculate. No suspicious financial trails. No covert alliances. Nothing that suggested a brewing betrayal.
Tristan appeared like a loyal subordinate, efficient and disciplined, content to stand beside Shin rather than ahead of him.
But men who lurked in shadows rarely left footprints.
If Tristan truly harbored ambitions grand enough to replace Shin, reaching out to him prematurely would only provoke suspicion.
For now, there was no need to rush. Time was the most obedient accomplice.
In games measured by patience, those who waited often harvested the sweetest victories.
"By the way," Calin said lightly, "how are things going with my brother? He can be rough with his words, but he genuinely cares about the company. Perhaps he could learn a thing or two from you about handling it."
In truth, she wished to dismiss Sergei's earlier concerns as baseless anxiety.
"He's fine," Bryce replied with a small shrug, his tone indifferent.
The Ricci company was nothing more than a decorative front to him.
Sergei Ricci, for all his bluster and ego, lacked restraint and strategic instinct.
A man driven by impulse was a man easily steered.
The only reason Bryce entertained this entire charade was simple.
Image.
Public perception was currency. Alignment with the Ricci family polished his profile, softened his edges, and painted him as a respectable figure moving through elite circles with ease.
In the end, every alliance was merely scaffolding, and he had no intention of living inside the building once it was complete.
While the two continued their dinner, the soft clink of cutlery were abruptly pierced by hurried footsteps outside the dining room.
A man rushed in without waiting to be announced, urgency etched across his face.
"Boss," he said, breath tight, "that Shin Keir is outside. He's surrounded the entire villa with his men."
The hand holding the wine glass froze midair.
Then, slowly, the corner of Bryce's mouth lifted as he laughed, delighted.
Calin's chair scraped faintly against the floor as she turned, eyes widening. "Brother Shin? What is he doing here?"
Bryce did not answer her. He simply set his glass down with deliberate care, rose to his feet, and adjusted his cuffs as if stepping out to greet an invited guest.
The villa stood far from the city center, where silence usually blanketed the landscape and each estate kept a polite distance from the next.
Tonight, that quiet had been replaced by the low growl of engines.
Outside, rows of black cars lined the driveway like a procession carved from shadow.
Men stood in formation, weapons drawn, the air heavy with the metallic scent of confrontation.
Bryce's own people faced them in a tense standoff, fingers resting on triggers, waiting for a single wrong breath.
At the center of it all, leaning against one of the cars, stood Shin Keir, towering and unmoved.
Smoke curled lazily from the cigarette between his gloved fingers, drifting upward like a signal fire. Both hands were clad in black leather, pristine and deliberate, as though even violence required etiquette.
Their eyes met and Bryce felt it immediately. The unfathomable darkness and penetrating sense of oppression.
"Different… very different," Bryce murmured under his breath.
Memory pulled at him without permission... a five year old Shin Keir, bright eyed and trusting, innocent like a puppy.
Then eight years old, those same eyes staring at him, filled not with innocence, but with terror and despair as the world collapsed around him, flames and smoke devouring the sky.
That boy was gone.
The man before him was not shaped by fire. He was forged in it.
Bryce lifted his hand, signaling his men to lower their weapons.
"Younger brother. I've been back in the country for quite some time, and you only remember me now? I was honestly beginning to worry you wouldn't spare me a moment of your life." He gestured lightly at the sea of cars. "But this… such a grand welcome. Is this your version of affection?"
Shin did not react to the provocation. Instead, he raised his gun and pointed it directly at Bryce's forehead.
Immediately, Bryce's men lifted their weapons again, tension snapping back into place like a tightened wire.
The night held its breath.
From the doorway, half concealed behind the heavy front door, Calin watched.
Her heart pounded violently against her ribs, each beat echoing in her ears. Fear clawed at her composure.
Had she miscalculated?
Had she bound herself to Bryce Gate only to stand beside a man who might fall the moment Shin Keir decided to pull the trigger?
Worse still, what would Shin Keir think of her presence here?
Would he see her as a traitor? A fool? An opportunist?
The thought that he might despise her further made her stomach twist.