His Treasure

The unexpected invitation

The diamond-encrusted hands of my Cartier watch mocked me as I stood half-dressed in my walk-in closet.

My brothers had only informed me one hour ago about attending some high-society party - typical of them to drop this bombshell at the last minute.

"Rho! Come down fast... we're already late!" Zhi Yun's voice boomed through the marble corridors of our mansion, vibrating the delicate crystal perfume bottles on my vanity.

My eldest brother had many virtues - his sharp business acumen, his protective nature, his perfectly chiseled jawline - but patience wasn't one of them. He moved through life like a Category 5 hurricane, expecting everyone to match his relentless pace.

Meanwhile, my second brother Zhi Lay existed at the opposite extreme. Where Yun was fire, Lay was water - calm, fluid, and infuriatingly slow when it suited him. The man could spend thirty minutes deciding between two identical black ties.

"Coming, Brother!" I called back, struggling to fasten the clasp of my diamond choker while simultaneously attempting to step into my Louboutins without toppling over.

From downstairs, I heard Yun's exasperated sigh. "Lay! Get down

here now or I'm leaving without

you!"

Right on cue, Lay emerged from his room looking effortlessly perfect in a tailored Tom Ford tuxedo, his dark hair slightly tousled as if he'd just rolled out of bed (which he probably had).

"Brother…" Lay drawled, adjusting his cufflinks with deliberate slowness,

"don't you have patience for just one second?"

The glare Yun shot him could have melted steel. I suppressed a giggle as I descended the grand staircase, the emerald silk of my Gucci gown whispering against the marble steps.

"I feel genuinely sorry for your future wife, Big Brother," I teased, unable to resist. "Imagine enduring that temper

every day."

"Get in the car, idiots," Yun grumbled, already striding toward the garage. It was his favorite term of endearment for us - 'idiots' - delivered with just enough affection to take the sting out.

As we settled into the plush leather seats of Yun's new Maybach (his latest toy), a thought struck me.

"Wait…..whose party are we even going to?" I adjusted the slit of my dress. "I don't even know whose event I'm dressed for."

Yun didn't look up from his phone.

"Luh Chen. Hosting his older brother's birthday."

"Who?" The name rang a faint bell. The Chen family was legendary in Beijing's elite circles - wealthier than even us, if that were possible - but I'd never heard about any sons.

Lay twisted in his seat, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Yang Chen. Thirty years old. Heads their entire Al division.

Never appears in public." He lowered his voice dramatically. "Some say he's a ghost."

Yun's grip on the steering wheel tightened. "And you're both to stay away from him. All of them. The Chens aren't like us."

There was something in his tone - a warning wrapped in fear - that made the fine hairs on my arms stand up. As we approached the Chen compound, a sprawling modernist palace glowing against the night sky, I couldn't shake the feeling that tonight would change everything.