Thomas studied the photograph intently, his thoughts wandering to the pure, crystalline melody Seraphina had played. The sound had been so clear, so unblemished, that he dismissed the latter possibility without a second thought. She was likely just admiring its artistic beauty, nothing more. "Do I have any plans this Saturday?" he asked, tilting his head slightly as he glanced toward Michael. Michael's shoulders tensed, a sense of foreboding creeping in. "What are you planning now?" "There's a friend's birthday," Thomas replied casually, though his eyes sparkled with intent. "I want to surprise her." His attention shifted to his assistant. "What do you think girls like for gifts?" Michael's hand shot up, halting the conversation before it could go any further. "Hold on. Which girl are we talking about here?""Seraphina," Thomas said matter-of-factly as if the answer were obvious. Michael blinked, the name sparking recognition almost instantly. Oh, for heaven's sake, he thought. He's still hung up on her. With an exasperated sigh, Michael didn't hold back. "Thomas, let me be straight with you. Are you even close enough to her for this? Just showing up uninvited could make things awkward for her. Don't forget—there's still that bounty circulating online for Miss Fox. If someone links her to that mess, it could cause her all kinds of trouble." Thomas frowned, the edges of his expression sharpening as he absorbed Michael's words. "Sending her a thoughtful gift would get the message across just as well," Michael added, softening his tone in an attempt to nudge him toward a more practical plan. After a long pause, Thomas finally nodded. "Alright then." Michael, relieved but careful not to show it, quickly steered the conversation to safer ground. "What's the date on Saturday?" "The 28th." Michael's brow furrowed in thought before realization dawned on him. "November 28th... That's the same day as the young lady's birthday," he murmured, more to himself than to Thomas. Thomas' frown deepened, his voice turning icy. "She is not the young lady of this family." The sharp edge in his tone made Michael instantly regret his slip. He clamped his mouth shut, unwilling to risk another misstep. The Foster Family had four siblings, but only one was a girl—and she was rarely seen in public. For reasons no one seemed to understand, Thomas harbored a particular disdain for his only sister, a bitterness so profound that he could remember Seraphina's birthday but had entirely forgotten hers. … The long-awaited Saturday arrived, bringing with it a flurry of activity from dawn. The entire household seemed alive with purpose as the preparations unfolded. The courtyard bloomed with roses flown in from abroad, their fragrance weaving through the air like a delicate promise. The event venue, dressed in lavish finery, had been entrusted to the city's most esteemed planners, while five-star chefs orchestrated a culinary masterpiece. Every ingredient, sourced from distant lands, was a testament to indulgence, each item rare and exorbitantly priced. If not for the Hall Family's involvement, Oberon would never have consented to such an extravagant display. Linara stood by her bedroom window, her gaze fixed on the bustling scene below. She watched as luxury after luxury was paraded into the estate, all in honor of Seraphina's seventeenth birthday. Her chest tightened, jealousy searing through her like wildfire. For more than a decade, she had lived at the Whitewood Residence, yet her father had never poured much effort into celebrating her. But now, for Seraphina—who had only just returned—this grand spectacle was unfolding as if the universe revolved around her. How could she not feel envious? The day's significance wasn't lost on anyone; every person in the household knew it was Seraphina's birthday. Yet, it seemed they had all conveniently forgotten that it was Linara's birthday too. A bitter scoff slipped from her lips, the sound sharp and dismissive. The grandeur of the celebration only fueled her conflicting emotions. On one hand, she wished for an overwhelming crowd, enough to make the event unforgettable. On the other, she secretly hoped for a humiliating lack of attendees. Her mind churned with tangled thoughts, her emotions a storm she couldn't quiet. Elsewhere, Seraphina had just risen from bed. A designer had arrived to transform her for the day, yet she remained silent and compliant, allowing them to work without protest. She was as passive as a doll, her stillness lending her an air of detachment, as though her strings were pulled by unseen hands. Beyond her door, the muted voices of maids carried through the hall. "How many guests do you think will show up today?" one whispered. "No idea. But I heard the Hall Family is hosting a party too—apparently for some goddaughter's birthday," another replied. "A goddaughter? Please," a third scoffed, her tone dripping with disdain. "Do you really think it's the respectable kind of goddaughter?" "What else could it be?" the second maid snickered. "You don't actually believe they treat her like a real daughter, do you?" "And what about Mrs. Hall? Doesn't she object to all this?" "She doesn't have much sway when it comes to Jacob," the first maid muttered, lowering her voice. "Honestly, the man's shameless. Using someone with such a lowly status to draw comparisons to Miss Seraphina? It's a blatant insult. Nothing less than deliberate."