The silence after the Liang cousins' departure was heavier than before. Leo stood like a statue, the mention of his mother's death clearly a raw wound. Jia's heart ached for him. She reached out, placing a hand on his tense arm.
"We'll face it together," she said, her voice firm. "Whatever it is."
He covered her hand with his, drawing strength from her touch. The moment was broken by a loud, startlingly vulgar grumble. They both looked down at Jia's stomach.
A deep blush spread across Jia's cheeks. "I, uh... I think my stomach is declaring independence after all that excitement."
The tension shattered. A genuine laugh, rough and unexpected, escaped Leo's lips. It was a wonderful sound. "We did skip dinner for a corporate takedown and a family ambush," he said, the ghost of a smile returning. "A capital crime, I agree."
Just then, the penthouse elevator chimed again. Both of them tensed, expecting the Liang cousins to return with another veiled threat. Instead, the doors slid open to reveal Alistair Finch, holding a large, greasy paper bag that filled the air with the unmistakable, glorious aroma of gourmet burgers and fries. He was followed by a hulking man with a friendly face and a neck as thick as a tree trunk.
"Figured you might be peckish after the evisceration of your rivals, sir," Finch said, his British accent making the word "peckish" sound incredibly formal. He placed the bag on the minimalist coffee table, where it looked like a bohemian intruder.
"Finch, you're a lifesaver," Jia said, her eyes lighting up.
"And this," Leo said, gesturing to the large man, "is Bruno. Head of my personal security. Or, as I like to call him, the reason I can sleep at night."
Bruno gave a shy, gap-toothed grin. "Boss likes his drama. I just make sure it doesn't get too dramatic." He eyed the bag. "Those the truffle fries? I called dibs."
"Your dedication is noted, Bruno," Finch said dryly, unpacking the food. "And sir, I took the liberty of running preliminary backgrounds on your... charming cousins. Liang Kai has a rather expensive habit of losing company money at underground poker games in Macau. And Liang Mei's 'ice queen' persona is funded by a secret allowance from her grandfather, which she spends exclusively on a collection of rare, bespoke teddy bears."
Jia choked on a fry. "Teddy bears? Seriously?"
"Apparently, she finds them 'trustworthy'," Finch confirmed, handing her a napkin.
The comic relief was a blessed release. For a few minutes, they were just four people sharing a bizarre meal in a ridiculously expensive apartment, the weight of the world temporarily lifted.
But the real world was still there. Leo's phone buzzed. He glanced at it, and his smile faded. "It's from my father's assistant. The jet is scheduled for 9 a.m. Sharp. They've already sent... a 'welcome package'."
Bruno grunted, swallowing a massive bite of burger. "What kind of welcome package? Fruit basket? Bomb?"
"Worse," Leo said, showing them the screen. It was a link to a society blog. The headline read: **"WHO IS THE MYSTERY CINDERELLA? Peasant Wife or Cunning Gold-Digger? Experts Weigh In on Liang Heir's Shocking Marriage!"**
The article was filled with vicious speculation and anonymously sourced quotes painting Jia as an uneducated social climber. There was even an unflattering, grainy photo of her from years ago.
Jia felt a fresh wave of humiliation, but it was quickly replaced by anger. "They work fast."
"This is just the opening salvo," Leo said, his voice cold. "They'll try to isolate you, humiliate you, make you doubt yourself. My family are masters of psychological warfare."
Suddenly, Jia's phone rang. The caller ID showed "Mom." She braced herself and answered on speaker.
"JIA!" Meiling's voice was shrill with a new, strange mixture of panic and excitement. "People are here! From the Liang Corporation! They brought dresses! And jewels! They said we're all invited to the Liang family estate! They called me 'Madam Chen'! Your father is having his best suit pressed! This is it! We've finally arrived!"
Jia and Leo exchanged a look of dawning horror. Her parents were being love-bombed, swept up in the Liang glamour, utterly oblivious to the shark tank they were being thrown into.
"Mom, listen to me—" Jia began.
"Don't be silly, dear! This is what we've always wanted for you! To be part of a *real* family! Now, which dress do you think? The crimson Valentino or the blue Chanel? The Liang woman said the Chanel is too... provincial."
As Meiling prattled on, Bruno leaned over to Finch and whispered, quite audibly, "Provincial? I once saw that woman try to eat soup with a fork. This is gonna be a circus."
Finch sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Indeed. I shall prepare the anti-anxiety medication. And perhaps a cattle prod."
The comic relief was now tinged with a new, potent suspense. The battle lines were drawn, but not in a boardroom. They were drawn in the realm of family, gossip, and brutal social politics. Leo and Jia were heading into the dragon's den, and the dragons had just invited her unsuspecting parents to dinner. The action hadn't started yet, but the war of whispers was already underway, and it was far more terrifying than any physical threat.