Chapter 1
The air in the Chen family mansion was thick with tension, even if no one dared to say it out loud. The chandelier sparkled above the marble dining table, but Jia’s heart beat unevenly in her chest as she arranged the final dish—handmade spinach ravioli with lemon butter sauce. The scent was warm and comforting, unlike the look her father had given her when she said she would cook tonight. Not angry. Just… cold, like always.
JOSH: “You nailed it again, Jia-bug. This looks five-star.”
He ruffled her hair on his way to sit next to Misha, who gave Jia a wink and a thumbs-up.
MISHA: “If Arthur’s son doesn’t fall in love with you after this meal, I’ll personally question his taste.”
JIA: (softly, half-laughing) “He’s here for Sia, not me.”
Sia walked in just then, looking like a porcelain doll dressed in soft lavender. Her smile was polite, but Jia could see the strain around her eyes.
SIA: “I don’t want him to fall for me either.”
Before Jia could say anything, the doorbell rang.
Their father’s deep voice called from the foyer.
JAYDEN: “Girls, behave. Arthur’s here.”
The guests entered—the legendary Arthur, whose name was synonymous with courtroom victories, and beside him, a tall figure with an air of icy control. Jet-black hair, pale skin, and startling blue eyes that seemed to look through people instead of at them.
ARTHUR: “Jayden, it’s been too long!”
JAYDEN: “It has. Come in, come in. You know my children. Sia, Jia… This is my son, Lucian.”
LUCIAN: (nodding formally) “Pleasure.”
His voice was smooth but lacked warmth. His eyes briefly landed on Sia, who gave a stiff nod, then moved to Jia—who froze. He paused for a second. Just a second. But he noticed the way her fingers clutched her apron.
LUCIAN: “…This smells incredible. You made it?”
JIA: (startled, nodding) “Y-Yes. I hope it’s to your taste.”
LUCIAN: (curtly) “I’m sure it will be.”
The dinner passed in a haze of compliments and forced laughter. Arthur and Jayden spoke eagerly of alliance and legacy, as Sia poked at her food and Misha subtly reached under the table to hold her hand.
It was only when dessert came—Jia’s handmade tiramisu—that Lucian asked something that caught everyone off guard.
LUCIAN: “Do you plan to work as a chef, Jia?”
The room went silent. Their father looked like someone had dropped a fork in his ear.
JAYDEN: (sharply) “She cooks for fun. Her real focus will be business, when the time comes.”
Jia swallowed. Her voice was barely a whisper.
JIA: “I haven’t decided yet…”
Lucian studied her. Not judging—analyzing.
LUCIAN: “You should. Some talents are wasted behind desks.”
That night, as everyone retired, Jia sat on the balcony with Sia. The moonlight brushed against Sia’s pale cheek.
SIA: “Jia… I’m going to run away.”
JIA: (shocked) “What?”
SIA: “I’m in love with someone else. He’s not rich. Not famous. But he’s real. I can’t marry someone just because Dad thinks it’s good for business.”
JIA: (whispering) “I’ll help you.”
SIA: “Are you sure?”
Jia nodded, her heart both heavy and free. She would do what her mother had once done—choose love, even at a cost.
And from behind the curtain inside, Lucian stood still, unnoticed, having heard every word.…
