The night sky over Seoul glittered with stars, but none shone brighter than the fire flickering inside Hena's chest. After everything—being framed, nearly institutionalized, betrayed by her own circle—there was finally a moment of peace. That morning, she had made the call she'd rehearsed in her head for days.
Claire had answered with a trembling voice, uncertain and filled with guilt.
"I'm sorry, Hena. I never meant to—"
"I know," Hena said softly. "You don't need to say anything. I forgive you."
Claire gasped quietly. "You… you do?"
"I do. I know Hara blackmailed you. She used your family as leverage. That's not your burden anymore. Come back. We need you."
There was a long silence, then a soft sob from the other end. "Thank you… Hena. I'll prove myself. This time I'm serious."
—
Meanwhile, Damian was examining a curious red envelope he received earlier that morning. It was made of thick, luxurious paper, sealed with golden wax. No return address, only an elegant stamp embossed on the back: Yoon Group.
He opened it and read the single line printed in black:
"You are cordially invited to the Eclipse Ball, hosted by Chairman Yoon. For those who shape the world in shadows. One guest allowed. Dress accordingly."
Chairman Yoon. A name from whispered corridors and political chessboards. A man with wealth, power, and influence who had long opposed Madam Seo's empire. If he was resurfacing now, it meant something big was coming.
Damian made up his mind and turned to Hena. "You're coming with me."
She blinked. "To where?"
He handed her the envelope. "To meet the people who move in the shadows. It's time they saw who you are. I'll introduce you to them… as my fiancée."
—
That evening, the Eclipse Ball took place in a secluded, centuries-old mansion nestled deep in the mountains outside Seoul. Gold chandeliers and shimmering silk curtains adorned the grand hall, where politicians, tycoons, and legacy heirs mingled behind jeweled masks and veiled identities.
Hena stepped out of the limousine in a sapphire blue gown, her presence arresting, regal. Damian offered his arm, and together, they walked into the sea of power.
People turned. Whispers floated through the air like smoke.
"Who is she?"
"She's stunning."
"She must be important if he brought her."
Then, at the top of the stairs, Damian raised his glass.
"This is Seo Hena," he announced, "my fiancée and rightful heir to the Seo legacy."
Gasps. Murmurs. The room was shaken.
Hena smiled with quiet defiance. Tonight, she wasn't a shadow. She was the storm.
—
From behind the velvet curtain of the second balcony, Hara watched everything with trembling hands.
She'd come here to spy, to gather intel about Chairman Yoon—maybe even sway him to her side before he sided with Hena. But when she saw Damian… and saw Hena… dancing together in the center of the ballroom like royalty—everything inside her shattered.
The way Damian looked at Hena. The way he smiled, not like a businessman, but like a man truly in love.
Her heart ached so violently she could barely breathe.
It was supposed to be me.
She gripped the railing so tightly her knuckles turned white. A tear slid down her cheek. Then another. She wiped them away furiously.
I still love him. I always have. And I will get him back…
She turned and stumbled away from the balcony, forgetting entirely what she came to do. Chairman Yoon's secrets, Madam Seo's downfall, the grand political schemes—it all vanished from her mind, swallowed by the pain in her heart.
—
Back on the dance floor, Damian leaned in and whispered in Hena's ear. "You belong here. Let them see it."
"I don't care if they see me," she whispered back. "I care that Madam Seo hears about this and knows—her time is running out."
As the music swelled and Hena spun in his arms, a pair of shadowed eyes watched from across the hall.
Chairman Yoon had arrived… and he was smiling.