They called it a celebration—but not hers.
The mansion was bathed in soft gold light, strings of crystal chandeliers flickering above the wide ballroom, music floating like silk through the air.
Guests in glittering gowns and sharp suits mingled with practiced smiles, glasses of champagne in hand. It was the kind of party one would throw for royalty.
And it was all for Yuna.
Hana stood in the corner, her presence barely acknowledged, her name never spoken. No one even seemed to realize it was her birthday too.
No one remembered—or cared. Not her father, not her stepmother, and certainly not Jin.
She wore a simple dress, one she'd pulled from the back of her closet, faded lavender with threadbare seams.
There'd been no stylist, no makeup artist. Just her, alone, quietly dressing herself for a party she hadn't been invited to but couldn't skip without causing scandal.
She hadn't expected much. But she hadn't expected this either.
Then she saw it—and her heart stopped.
Descending the grand staircase in the center of the hall was Yuna, radiant in a white silk gown that sparkled with subtle diamonds. Her hair was curled to perfection, pinned with golden clips. But it wasn't her beauty that caught Hana's breath.
It was the necklace around her neck.
A delicate gold chain with a heart-shaped sapphire pendant—small, elegant, and unmistakable. Her mother's necklace.
The one she had hidden in a box beneath the loose floorboard in her old bedroom. The one her mother had given her on her eighteenth birthday. Her most treasured possession, the last thing connecting her to a woman whose warmth she barely remembered anymore.
Her body moved on instinct.
Hana cut through the crowd, her shoes silent on the polished floor as she reached the bottom of the stairs.
"Where did you get that necklace?" she asked, her voice steady but cold.
Yuna blinked, then smiled like sugar. "Oh, this? It was just lying around in the jewelry drawer. I didn't think anyone would mind."
Lies! Hana's fists clenched. "That was my mother's."
Yuna tilted her head. "Oh . . . I didn't know. Sorry."
Her fingers moved to unclasp it, but Hana caught the glint in her step-sister's eyes. She did know. She had always known.
Yuna unclasped the necklace carelessly. It slipped through her fingers.
Time slowed.
The sapphire hit the marble floor with a sharp crack, rolling once before stopping near Hana's foot. A jagged fracture split through the gem—ruined.
A tremor ran through Hana's chest. Her throat tightened.
Without thinking, she raised her hand—and slapped Yuna hard across the face.
The music screeched to a halt.
Gasps rippled through the crowd like thunder rolling through a quiet valley. Yuna staggered back, hand over her cheek, eyes wide with perfect, trembling innocence.
"Hana!" Her father's voice thundered from the other side of the room. He marched forward, face red with fury. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!"
"She—" Hana tried to explain, tried to breathe, tried to hold in the scream tearing through her chest.
But the slap came first.
Her father's palm struck her across the cheek with enough force to send her stumbling back. The sting bloomed immediately, but it was nothing compared to the pain in her chest.
"You will apologize this instant!" he barked.
"For what?" she whispered, her voice cracking. "For being your daughter? For being forgotten? For taking back what's mine?"
"You should be ashamed," her stepmother hissed, pulling Yuna into a comforting hug. "On her birthday, no less."
Her birthday.
Hana said nothing. Her face burned, her heart hollow. The broken necklace lay forgotten on the floor between them, and no one cared.
Then the front doors opened.
A group of sharply dressed men entered, their presence demanding silence. Servants scrambled to receive them
as they began unloading a small mountain of gifts—wrapped in black-and-gold boxes stamped with an intricate crest.
"Delivery from Mr. Ahn," one of the men announced. "For Miss Yuna."
The room erupted into murmurs, Hana was already forgotten.
"Mr. Ahn?" one socialite whispered. "As in that Ahn family?"
"The ones who own the Eastern ports? And half the steel refineries?"
Yuna covered her mouth in shock—artfully modest. "I . . . I didn't know he would do this."
The gifts kept coming: rare gems, designer bags, keys to a private estate by the sea, even a painting from a reclusive French master. The weight of the Ahn family's influence hung in the air like perfume.
"Looks like the young master's ready to propose," someone chuckled.
Yuna blushed prettily. "I . . . I'm not sure what to say."
Her father beamed with pride, stepping forward to pat her shoulder. "You've made our family proud, sweetheart."
Their stepmother smiled with all her teeth. "He sees what a good heart you have. You deserve this."
Hana felt like she might vomit.
Everyone had forgotten her. And now they were celebrating the girl who stole everything from her. Again.
Her gaze swept across the room—and locked with Jin's.
He stood near the back, half-shadowed by a pillar. His eyes weren't on the presents or the crowd. They were on Yuna. And he was smiling.
The soft, secret kind of smile.
The kind of smile someone gave to the person they adored and love.
Their eyes met for the briefest moment—and his smile vanished. Replaced with a glare. Cold, sharp. Like she was the one who had ruined the evening.
She looked away, blinking back the hot sting rising in her throat.
Of course. He was always on Yuna's side.
Always.
Without a word, she collected her mother's broken necklace, turned and walked away, her steps slow, her body shaking.
She didn't belong her any longer.