The next morning arrived with a deceptive calm. Rain fell over the Smith estate, soft and steady, wrapping the world in a gray stillness that felt almost intimate. The kind of morning where people whispered instead of spoke, and secrets could move without being noticed.
Emily stood barefoot on the cold tiles of her balcony, the thin silk of her robe fluttering in the damp air. Below, she could hear her stepmother laughing in the dining hall a brittle sound, too polished to be real. Stephanie's voice joined hers, honeyed and false.
Emily turned away. She had already wasted enough time pretending to belong to this house.
The previous night's discovery still echoed in her head the hidden camera, the note from the maid, her uncle's name buried in the reports. None of it surprised her. Betrayal had always worn a familiar face.
She pulled the laptop toward her again, this time setting up a firewall strong enough to blind anyone watching. Her fingers moved with effortless precision, like muscle memory waking from a long sleep. In her previous life, code had been her battlefield, data her sword.
Within minutes, she breached the estate's internal network. The cameras blinked once then went dark. One by one, every eye turned blind.
She watched the security feed die, a quiet satisfaction curling in her chest.
If you build a cage around me, she thought, you should at least make sure I can't pick the lock.
Her next step was more dangerous. She sent a silent signal into the encrypted shadows of the web an old channel from years ago, when she worked under the alias Seraph. A ghost in the digital world, the unseen genius behind countless technological miracles.
She typed three words:
Seraph awake. Stand by.
Then she shut the computer and went still. The signal would travel, reach her old network scattered across continents. If they were still loyal, she'd know soon enough.
Outside her door, she heard approaching footsteps slow, deliberate. Stephanie.
Emily straightened, smoothing her expression into polite neutrality as the door opened without a knock.
"Still hiding up here?" Stephanie's voice was light, teasing. Her stepsister walked in, pretending to glance around the room with concern. "You've barely come down for breakfast these days. Are you sure you're well?"
"I'm fine," Emily replied, tone clipped but calm.
Stephanie smiled sweetly. "You know, Father's worried about you. He says you've changed. You used to be so… emotional. Now you're quiet. Cold, even."
Emily looked up at her. "Maybe I learned something from you."
The smile faltered, just a flicker, but Emily saw it and that was enough.
Stephanie recovered quickly, lowering herself onto the chair near the desk. "Anyway, I came to tell you that Timothy Grant's assistant called. They want to discuss the engagement dinner. Father said you should be ready to attend a private meeting with them tonight."
"Tonight?"
"Yes." Stephanie's lips curved into a smirk. "Don't worry, I'm sure he won't bite… unless you make him angry. I hear he has a temper."
Emily rose from her seat, moving toward the window. The rain had grown heavier, drumming softly against the glass. Her reflection stared back calm eyes, faint smirk.
"Then I'll make sure not to," she said simply.
Stephanie hesitated, as if expecting more. When none came, she sighed dramatically and left.
The moment the door shut, Emily whispered into the quiet, "You've already made me angry enough."
She returned to her desk, rechecking the network feed. Every camera in the house still blinked dark. But she didn't miss the small red light on her ceiling a new camera, smaller, almost invisible.
They'd replaced it already.
Emily smiled faintly, the curve of it cold. "So," she murmured, "the cage repairs itself. Let's see how strong it really is."
She reached for her phone, typing a line of code that linked her device to the new camera. Within seconds, it flipped its view now feeding directly to her.
She had turned their surveillance against them.
The storm outside grew louder, matching the quiet, controlled storm building within her.
Emily leaned back, her eyes glinting with steel. The world thought she was still recovering fragile, broken, harmless.
They were wrong.
She was only testing the cage.
Next, she would learn how to break it.