The party buzzed on like a well-rehearsed performance. Elegant laughter, crystal clinks, and murmured conversations filled the air as the elite of Seoul moved through the golden-lit ballroom like players on a polished stage.
Madam Seo arrived late, as usual. Her entrance was quiet, yet commanding—heads subtly turned. She wore a deep plum silk gown that whispered of old money and iron control. With her ever-present pearl earrings and sharp eyes, she didn't need to speak to be noticed.
She was searching for her daughter.
But it was not Hara she saw across the room.
Her breath caught—for a brief second, her composure cracked. Across the crowd stood a girl who looked like Hara, yet not quite.
This girl had softer features, eyes filled with wonder instead of calculation, and a modest grace Hara never possessed. She held herself like someone not used to being seen.
A flicker of a memory... a distant cry... a hospital room blurred by years... Then it passed.
Madam Seo moved swiftly, weaving through the room until she stood just behind the girl. Hena turned, startled to find a woman standing so close.
For one fragile moment, their eyes locked.
Hena's heart stumbled.
She didn't need to ask. She knew.
It was her.
The woman from the photo her grandmother once hid. The same sharp cheekbones, the same cool gaze.
"Y-you…" Hena whispered.
Recognition shimmered in her eyes, followed by something fragile—hope.
But Madam Seo's expression turned cold like frost.
"Follow me," she said quietly, and turned away, expecting to be obeyed.
---
In a secluded corner of the hallway, the hum of the party faded behind them.
"Who are you?" Madam Seo asked. "And what are you doing here?"
"I didn't mean to intrude," Hena said, her voice trembling. "I was in the gallery. I got lost. But… I know who you are. You're my—"
"No," Madam Seo cut her off, her voice steely. "You don't know anything. Whatever you think you've discovered, bury it. You don't belong in this world."
Hena flinched. "But we look the same… Me and Hara. That bracelet—"
Madam Seo stepped closer, eyes sharp. "That bracelet should've been destroyed. Whatever lies your grandmother told you, forget them. You were never meant to exist. If you care about your future—disappear."
Tears welled in Hena's eyes. "Why? Why are you doing this?"
"Because the truth doesn't change anything. I have a daughter. Her name is Hara. You… are no one."
With that, Madam Seo turned on her heel and vanished into the party, leaving Hena frozen—heart fractured, mind spiraling.
---
Later that night, Hena returned to the small rooftop room she was renting. The quiet of the city pressed against the windows.
She sat at the edge of the bed, still holding the bracelet.
Her hands trembled.
Madam Seo's voice echoed in her head: You were never meant to exist.
But Hena had existed.
She had loved. She had cried. She had wondered, all her life, why there was a missing piece in her heart.
And now that she had glimpsed the truth, she couldn't unsee it.
Her mother was alive.
She had a sister.
And for some reason, they wanted her gone.
Hena's sadness slowly turned into something else—resolve.
If they wouldn't give her answers, she would find them herself.
---
Meanwhile, back at the penthouse, Damian poured himself a glass of whiskey. He leaned against the kitchen counter, thinking.
Something didn't make sense.
The girl he met tonight—Hena, she said her name was—was the mirror image of Hara. But she couldn't have been Hara. That girl had kindness in her eyes. She apologized. She looked lost and out of place. Unlike Hara, who never apologized to anyone.
Damian rubbed his temples.
Hara had been acting strange lately. More distant. Less calculating in some moments, more cruel in others. Almost… like she was trying too hard to fit a mold.
"Eric," he called.
His assistant stepped into the room.
"Pull up everything you can find on Hara Seo. School records. Travel history. Family connections. And cross-reference the name Hena."
Eric blinked. "You think there's something wrong with her identity?"
Damian took a long sip of his drink. "Let's just say… I have a feeling."
---
And so, while the city of Seoul slept beneath its twinkling skyline, secrets stirred quietly behind closed doors.
Two sisters, once separated by fate, now stood unknowingly on opposite sides of a storm.
And Damian Lee, the man caught between their reflection, had just begun to sense the truth was far messier than he imagined.