"Don't trust Huo."
The three words were a brand seared into Elara Meng's mind. Now, every breath she took had a purpose.
She remembered her mother, Liana Meng, on her final stage in Port Sterling, the brilliant lights celebrating her every move before everything was extinguished by an "accident." From that moment on, Elara's own freedom had been extinguished, too.
The butterfly would no longer just flutter hopelessly. It would learn to spin a deadly web.
The perfect mask was in place when she replied to Kian Huo's text about the evening's gala with a smiling emoji.
***
In a cluttered office, Detective Julian Zheng stroked his mentor's old fountain pen. The oath he'd sworn to find justice was still a fresh wound.
On the corkboard, red strings connected photos of Liana Meng and the late detective to notes on Huo Enterprises.
An encrypted email. A single file.
The image of a charred document appeared on his screen. A few disjointed words were visible: 'phase 2 trials,' 'emotional synchronization,' 'priority subject: Liana Meng.'
And in the top corner, the unmistakable logo of a phoenix in flames.
Julian's heart skipped a beat. Emotional synchronization? This wasn't money laundering. This was something far more sinister.
Instantly, his phone rang. It was Captain Davies.
"Julian, back off. Huo Enterprises is not a place we can touch," his superior's voice was a stark warning.
"That's an order!"
The call ended.
Julian stared at the name "Liana Meng" on his screen.
Orders or justice?
He gripped the pen. He had made his choice.
***
The Sterling Dynamics gala was the perfect stage. Elara Meng, in a jet-black gown, played the part of the adoring fiancée to perfection beside Kian Huo.
When a director from Sterling Dynamics ambled over and mentioned her mother's famous "Phoenix Dance," the air instantly turned to ice.
Before Kian could react, Elara smiled, her voice like silk but laced with thorns.
"My mother's Phoenix Dance? You must have been very impressed."
Her proactive question was a dagger thrust into the calm facade. Kian shot her a look, his eyes flashing with a strange, haunting light, as if through her face, he was seeing her mother's ghost on that stage years ago.
"That's in the past," he said, his tone gentle.
But the hand on her waist tightened—a silent, possessive warning.
As the director hastily excused himself, Elara leaned forward, pretending to adjust her gown. Her ears caught Kian's icy command to his assistant just behind her:
"Take care of him. No one is to mention that name again."
That name. Not the dance.
Liana Meng.
***
On the ride back to the penthouse in the silent, opulent car, Elara suddenly broke the suffocating stillness.
"That dance, 'The Reborn Phoenix'," she said, her eyes fixed on the passing city lights, but the words were aimed at him like arrows.
"I've never heard my mother mention it. It must have been very special to you."
The car slowed abruptly. Kian signaled for the driver to pull over.
The privacy screen slid up, trapping them in their own isolated world.
He turned to her, all pretense of gentleness gone. Now, his eyes held nothing but cold control and an undisguised edge of danger.
"What is it you want to know, Elara?"
She didn't flinch. She turned to face him, a faint, challenging smile on her lips.
"I'm just wondering what kind of dance could be so special that it makes the most powerful man in Port Sterling afraid to even hear its name."
He didn't answer immediately. He reached out, his long fingers tracing the diamond necklace on her skin, coming to rest on the pulse fluttering in her throat.
"Curiosity is a dangerous virtue," he whispered, his voice a low, threatening caress.
"Sometimes, knowing too much is how a butterfly's wings get broken."
"Then I'll learn to fly without them," Elara shot back, her gaze unwavering.
"It's better than living in a cage, no matter if it's made of gold and diamonds."
The smile vanished from Kian's lips. He stared at her, a silent war waging in the confined space.
Finally, he was the one to break it.
"Go home," he commanded the driver, turning his face to the window, leaving her with a wall of silence.
But Elara had seen what she needed to see. He was hiding something.
He was afraid.
And Project Phoenix was the key.