Chapter 9: Secrets, Scandals, and a Stolen Heirloom
1548 Words
Sophia flipped the pancake with the finesse of a woman clinging to her last thread of sanity.
The golden-brown disk landed in the pan with a satisfying sizzle. She smiled at it, imagining it morphing into a ticket out of Kang Mansion. Pancakes were safe. Pancakes didn’t come with cryptic contracts, overprotective in-laws, or husbands with abs that looked Photoshopped in real life.
She sighed and muttered to herself, "Just two years. Two years, and I get my life back."
Then, as if summoned by sarcasm and carbs, Ethan Kang strode into the kitchen.
In gym shorts.
No shirt. Hair damp from a workout. A towel slung casually over his shoulder like he was a walking spa commercial.
Sophia froze. So did her pancake.
Ethan stopped when he saw her, equally surprised. "You cook?"
"You dress?" she shot back automatically, eyes firmly on the pancake that now resembled her spiraling emotional state.
He blinked, then smirked. "That’s not an answer."
She flipped the last pancake onto a plate and shoved it toward him. "Breakfast. So you can stop looking like a Calvin Klein billboard and start looking like a human."
"You’re oddly feisty for someone wearing bunny slippers," he said, sitting on the barstool and stealing a strawberry from her plate.
"Touch that again and you’ll lose a finger, Mr. President."
He chuckled. "Noted."
They ate in silence for a moment, the tension thick but not unpleasant. Somewhere between awkward roommates and something more dangerous.
Then the memory struck her—last night’s envelope.
She dropped her fork.
"I need to check something," she muttered, hurrying out.
***
Back in her room, Sophia yanked the mystery envelope from her nightstand. It was still sealed, plain cream with only her name handwritten in ink that looked faded by time.
Inside, a single piece of paper:
The truth lies where the records sleep. Behind the dragon’s eye. Trust no one wearing pearls.
"What the actual Scooby-Doo nonsense…?" she whispered.
But her gut twisted. This wasn’t a prank. The paper was old, like archival parchment, and the handwriting… vaguely familiar.
Behind the dragon’s eye?
Suddenly, she remembered a strange wall relief in the Kang Group’s central archives. During orientation, she’d noticed it—a carving of a dragon with one eye missing.
She dressed quickly and snuck out.
***
The central archives were under heavy security, but as Mrs. Kang’s daughter-in-law (and contractually obligated mascot), she had limited access.
She greeted the guard with a sweet smile. "I’m researching the Kang legacy. For an upcoming press release. You know how PR is."
He gave her a look that said, I’m too underpaid to argue, and let her in.
Inside, rows of locked cabinets and ancient ledgers stretched into the shadows. She made her way to the dragon relief. One eye was sculpted in stone, the other… a small hollow, deliberately empty.
She reached inside.
Click.
A panel slid open, revealing a hidden compartment. Inside: a small velvet pouch and a folded document.
Sophia opened the pouch first. A brooch—gold, encrusted with rubies. She’d seen it before.
In a childhood photo with her mother.
Heart racing, she unfolded the paper. It was a property deed, signed by her late father, transferring ownership of a prime piece of real estate—currently under dispute thanks to Aunt May’s legal filings.
"No way. She lied about this. This land was never hers."
Her phone buzzed.
Text from Lily: Emergency. Twin drama. Someone’s spying on Jisoo. Come back or we’ll go full CSI.
***
Back at the lab, chaos reigned.
"He’s got a hat. A spy hat, Sophia!" Jisoo hissed, peeking from behind the vending machine.
Jihye nodded solemnly. "And a trench coat."
"It’s just the new janitor," Sophia tried.
"Janitors don’t carry micro-recorders."
"You stole his phone?!"
"Borrowed," Jihye corrected. "It had a file named ‘Project Bunny.’"
Sophia blinked. "That’s... actually creepy."
Lily strolled in, holding iced coffee like a queen. "Relax. I already ran facial rec. He’s not with Kang Group. He’s freelance. I’m thinking hired snoop."
"By who?"
"Someone who doesn’t want the twins to accidentally discover the truth about the break room microwave," Lily deadpanned. Then, more serious: "Or someone watching you."
Sophia’s stomach twisted.
***
Meanwhile, in the top floor office of Kang Group, Ethan Kang sat behind his desk, holding a thick dossier delivered by an anonymous courier.
The file read:
"Subject: Sophia Hwang. Confidential."
Inside were medical records, school files, and... a juvenile police report?
Ethan frowned. Sophia had a sealed juvenile record?
He read further.
Age 12. Temporary detainment for breaking and entering—into a children’s welfare center. Motive: returning a runaway who’d been hiding with her.
Ethan’s grip tightened. This wasn’t a scandal. It was a story of loyalty and bravery twisted to look like a mistake.
Who wanted him to see this?
At the back of the file was a photo. Sophia, younger, smiling beside a woman.
He blinked.
It was his mother.
Mrs. Kang, laughing, arm around a teenage Sophia.
***
That night, Sophia sat on the balcony, brooch in hand, the velvet pouch forgotten beside her on the small table. The city lights blinked in the distance, but her thoughts were miles away — buried under land deeds, dusty archives, and old secrets.
She didn’t hear Ethan approach until he dropped a soft blanket around her shoulders.
"You look like you’ve just wrestled with ghosts," he said, his voice low and careful.
She didn’t look at him. "Maybe I did."
He noticed the brooch. "That’s not costume jewelry."
"It belonged to my mother. I found it hidden in the archives — behind a wall panel. There was also a deed. It proves Aunt May lied. That land she’s trying to claim? It was never hers."
Ethan sat beside her, expression unreadable. "That’s not all you found."
Sophia hesitated, then pulled the folded letter from her pocket and handed it to him.
He read silently.
"There is an enemy within the Kang family. One who hides behind loyalty and silence. The late Phoenix feared him. I write to you now because she can no longer speak. Be careful who you trust. — A friend of the Phoenix."
He froze.
Not dramatically.
But like a predator that had just caught the scent of something it had been hunting for years.
His eyes scanned the note again, jaw tight.
Sophia leaned forward. “What does that mean? Who’s the Phoenix? Who’s the enemy?”
Ethan didn’t answer. He folded the note precisely, too precisely, like a man trying to keep his hands from shaking.
Ethan’s grip tightened, his jaw set hard. His silence stretched too long.
“Ethan?”
He finally exhaled, but it sounded more like a growl. “It must be him.”
Sophia blinked. “Who?”
But Ethan didn’t answer. His gaze had turned icy, focused on something — someone — in the past.
She frowned. “Who are you talking about?”
He still didn’t speak. Instead, he rose, went inside, and returned moments later with a file folder. Thick. Confidential. Government seals barely pried open.
He handed it to her and opened to the final page — the photo.
Sophia stared.
A much younger version of herself. And beside her… a woman she hadn’t thought about in years.
“She… she came to the orphanage sometimes,” Sophia said, voice barely above a whisper. “Brought books. Candy. I didn’t know who she was back then. She just felt… kind. Familiar.”
“She wasn’t just visiting,” Ethan said flatly. “She specifically asked for you.”
Sophia blinked. “I don’t remember that.”
“You were five.”
“I guess I just… forgot. That part of my life is all foggy.”
Ethan leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “My mother never did anything by chance. If she was visiting you, it was intentional. But if someone found out…”
He trailed off, mind spinning.
Sophia’s brow furrowed. “You still haven’t told me. Who do you think the letter was warning about?”
He shook his head. “I can’t say yet. Not until I’m sure.”
Sophia leaned back, the weight of the mystery pressing into her chest. “This whole family... your family… it’s like a locked room with a thousand keys.”
Ethan looked at her, finally, the firelight catching the sharpness in his gaze. “And some of those keys open doors better left shut.”
“Are you afraid of what we’ll find?”
“No,” he said. “I’m afraid of who already knows what we don’t.”
Sophia glanced down at the brooch again.
“I think your mom was trying to protect me.”
“And someone didn’t like that,” Ethan said grimly.
She met his eyes. “So what do we do now?”
He didn’t blink. “We dig.”
She gave a wry smile. “Careful isn’t in our marriage contract, remember?”
Ethan’s lips curved just slightly. “Then maybe it’s time we rewrite it.”
And under the hush of midnight air and truths unearthed, their pretend marriage — wrapped in lies, warnings, and silent affection — began to feel just a little more real.
- Writer
