The Holt mansion glittered with wealth. Chandeliers sparkled above the grand hall, servants hurried silently, and every guest was dressed in silk and jewels. Tonight's banquet was meant to celebrate the engagement between Elara White and Adrian Holt—the beginning of a union between two powerful families.
In her past life, Elara had attended this banquet with nervous joy. She had been foolishly grateful, believing herself blessed to marry into the Holt family. That night, she had smiled while Serena hovered beside her, whispering encouragements, promising eternal sisterhood.
And that same night had marked the start of her downfall.
This time, Elara stepped out of the carriage with measured grace, her chin tilted high. The pale-blue gown hugging her figure shimmered softly under the lights, simple yet elegant—chosen deliberately to contrast Serena's usual overdressed style.
Her heels clicked against marble as she entered the hall. Conversations halted for a second as heads turned.
"Elara White?" someone murmured. "She looks… different."
Indeed, she did. Gone was the timid bride-to-be. Her presence was colder, sharper, her eyes gleaming like polished obsidian. Even Adrian Holt, standing by the grand staircase, raised his brows in faint surprise at her entrance.
Beside him, Serena's lips curved into a bright smile as she rushed forward to "greet" her sister. Her pink dress flared, and she clutched Elara's hands warmly.
"Sister, you're here! You look so beautiful tonight."
To outsiders, Serena's affection seemed genuine. But Elara remembered well: in her past life, this very night Serena had "accidentally" spilled red wine over her dress, making her the laughingstock of the evening. Adrian had scolded her coldly, humiliating her in front of all the guests.
Serena was planning to do the same trick again.
Not this time.
Elara's smile was serene as she accepted Serena's hand. "You too, dear sister. I see you've dressed… extravagantly."
Serena blinked at the subtle sting in her tone. Before she could retort, a servant approached with a tray of wine. Serena's gaze flickered briefly toward the glasses, her fingers twitching with eagerness.
Elara caught the glance. Her lips curved.
When the servant bowed and offered the tray, Serena was quick to take one glass and, with her sweetest smile, handed another to Elara.
"Here, sister. A toast—to your happiness."
In her past life, Elara had foolishly accepted without hesitation. This time, she tilted her head, eyes gleaming with amusement.
"My happiness?" she asked softly. "Are you sure that's what you wish for me?"
Serena faltered. For just a second, confusion clouded her expression. But she quickly forced a laugh. "Of course! Why wouldn't I?"
Elara accepted the glass but did not drink. Instead, she swirled the red liquid slowly, watching the crimson waves ripple under the light. "Funny. I remember… you don't usually like red wine. Too bitter for your taste, wasn't it?"
Serena stiffened. "I—"
"Perhaps you should drink it then," Elara interrupted smoothly, lifting the glass toward her. "After all, it would be rude to toast without drinking yourself."
Gasps whispered among the guests. Eyes flickered between the sisters, sensing the subtle tension.
Serena's smile grew tight. She hadn't expected Elara to turn the move against her. "Oh, but this is your celebration—"
Elara's voice sharpened, cutting her off. "Then surely you wouldn't mind proving your sincerity."
A heavy silence fell. Adrian's gaze sharpened, curiosity glinting in his eyes as he watched the exchange.
Serena's nails dug into her palm, hidden by her skirts. She wanted to scream. Elara had never spoken like this before—so calm, so commanding, so… dangerous.
With no choice, she forced a smile and lifted her own glass. The red liquid trembled against the rim as she took a sip.
Elara's lips curved into a victorious smile. Checkmate.
Gasps rippled again. Whispers filled the hall. Guests exchanged glances, some covering their lips to hide smirks. They had seen the subtle battle and knew who had won.
Serena's face burned with humiliation. She quickly lowered her gaze, pretending not to notice the mocking glances.
Elara raised her glass delicately, her voice clear and steady as she finally toasted. "To sincerity. May it last longer than masks."
The words were like daggers wrapped in silk, their meaning sharp enough for Serena alone to understand.
From the corner of her eye, Elara caught Adrian studying her with interest. His lips curved faintly—amused, perhaps intrigued. But she didn't spare him more than a glance.
Her focus was fixed solely on Serena.
One move down, sister. A thousand more to go.