Amelia stirred at the sound of a loud, insistent knock on her door. She groaned, burying her face deeper into the silk pillow. It had barely been ten hours since the grand welcome party—the one her parents had been planning for months—and she was still recovering from the endless handshakes, forced smiles, and awkward small talk with people she barely remembered.
Another knock echoed through the room, sharper this time. Irritated, she threw off the covers and slipped into her slippers, dragging herself toward the door. Whoever dared to disturb her so early better have a good reason.
She opened the door, her sharp words ready, but stopped when her eyes landed on Elara, the maid with a slight limp. Amelia's gaze swept over her plain uniform, the way her head bowed in deference.
"Elara," Amelia said, her tone edged with irritation. "What do you want?"
Elara shifted nervously, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. "Good morning, Miss Hong," she said softly. "Master Hong sent me to fetch you."
Amelia folded her arms, tilting her head. "For what? Just spit it out. I don't have time for your stuttering."
Elara swallowed, her eyes darting to the ground. "He… he asked me to tell you to come to the study immediately."
"Fine." Amelia waved her hand dismissively. "You can go now."
Elara hesitated, as if unsure whether to leave, but the sharp glare Amelia gave her was enough to send her retreating down the hallway. Before she could fully turn, Amelia slammed the door shut with a loud thud, the sound reverberating through the room.
Amelia leaned against the door for a moment, letting out a frustrated sigh. "Why can't I get even one morning of peace?" she muttered to herself.
She walked back to the center of her room, running a hand through her long hair. The previous night's exhaustion clung to her like a heavy weight. This was precisely why she had been so reluctant to return. There was no breathing room here, no privacy, no freedom. She had left this life behind to study abroad, to live on her own terms. And now, less than 24 hours after coming back, she was already trapped in the endless expectations of being Amelia Hong, the heiress of the Hong family.
"Not even a full night's sleep," she mumbled, flopping onto the edge of her bed. "What could possibly be so important this early in the morning?"
Her eyes drifted to the clock on her bedside table. It was 7:15 AM. Her father wasn't exactly known for his patience, but summoning her this early after the exhausting welcome party seemed excessive—even for him.
Still, Amelia knew better than to keep him waiting. She stood and stretched, her silk nightgown brushing against her skin as she walked toward her closet. Whatever her father wanted, she would face it head-on—like she always did.
---
Elara walked back to the study, her steps quiet but purposeful as she delivered Amelia's message. She knocked lightly before stepping inside, bowing her head as she addressed Mr. Hong.
"She'll be here shortly, sir," she said softly, her voice even.
Mr. Hong barely acknowledged her, giving only a curt nod without looking up from the papers spread across his desk. It wasn't unexpected—Elara was used to being invisible in this house. Without another word, she quietly left the study, her hand brushing the edge of the polished wooden door as she exited.
As she made her way down the hallway, Amelia strode in the opposite direction, her expression poised but her eyes betraying a flicker of annoyance. The corners of her lips curved into a wide, practiced smile, the kind that didn't quite reach her eyes. She didn't spare Elara a glance as they crossed paths, the maid blending seamlessly into the background like always.
Amelia stepped into the study, her smile still firmly in place. "Good morning, Dad," she greeted, settling herself into the leather armchair opposite his desk.
Mr. Hong looked up from his work, his stern face softening slightly as he regarded her. "Morning, princess. I'm sorry for interrupting your sleep—I know you must be exhausted from last night."
"Yes, I am," Amelia replied, keeping her tone polite despite the fatigue weighing on her. "But it's fine, Dad. Anything for you."
Mr. Hong leaned back in his chair, folding his hands together. "Good. I just wanted to let you know that we're expecting important guests this evening—the president's sons will be visiting."
"The president's sons?" Amelia repeated, her brows lifting slightly.
"Yes," her father confirmed, his tone sharp. "Is there a problem with that?"
She quickly shook her head, her smile returning. "No, Father. No problem at all."
"Good," he said, his attention already drifting back to his work. "Just keep it in mind and prepare yourself accordingly. You may go now."
Amelia stood, smoothing the silk of her blouse as she nodded. "Of course, Father. I'll be ready."
She walked out of the study with steady, measured steps, but the moment she was back in the privacy of her room, her practiced mask cracked. Closing the door behind her, she leaned against it with a sigh.
"Of course," she muttered to herself, her tone bitter. "Another favor. Another pawn in his game."
She crossed the room and sank into the plush armchair by the window, gazing out at the sprawling garden below. It wasn't the first time her father had used her as a chess piece for the family's gain, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. He had plans for her—he always did. And Amelia, the obedient heiress, was expected to play her role perfectly.
But this time, something about it felt heavier. The sons of the president? What exactly was her father scheming now?
Her fingers drummed against the armrest as she tried to suppress the rising frustration. This was supposed to be her homecoming, her moment to breathe after years of living abroad. Instead, it felt like she had stepped right back into the suffocating expectations that had driven her away in the first place.
She glanced at the clock on her bedside table. There were hours left before the guests arrived, but Amelia already felt the weight of the evening pressing down on her.
"Welcome home," she muttered to herself, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
But no matter how she felt, Amelia knew one thing for certain: by the time the president's sons walked through the doors of the Hong mansion, she would be ready. Because that was what she had been trained to do—smile, charm, and play her part to perfection.
---
The Hong mansion was alive with movement as the evening shadows stretched across the estate. Maids hurried from room to room, dusting, polishing, and making sure every corner gleamed under the soft lighting. The air was thick with the scent of fresh flowers, and the house, as always, was a symbol of wealth and perfection.
Tonight, it wasn't just any event—it was the visit of the president and his sons. The importance of this evening hung in the air like a silent pressure, and everyone was working overtime to ensure the Hong name would shine.
Upstairs, Amelia Hong stood in front of her full-length mirror, surveying herself with a practiced gaze. The black mini dress she wore fit her like a second skin, emphasizing every curve while maintaining an air of elegance. She gave her reflection a small smirk, the kind she had perfected over the years.
No matter what her father wanted, no matter how many guests flooded their home, tonight was hers to control. She wasn't going to play the obedient daughter or the dutiful heir to the family empire. No, she had a different role to play tonight—one that made people sit up and take notice.
She reached up, adjusting the strap of her dress, her fingers grazing her collarbone. The dress was just one piece of the performance. The sleek black heels, the diamond bracelet that sparkled under the light, the flawlessly done makeup—it all came together to create a version of Amelia Hong that would leave an impression.
Not for her father, not for the president's sons, but for herself.
It was the only thing she could control.
"Ready, Miss Hong?" Elara's voice interrupted her thoughts, faint but polite, coming from behind the door.
Amelia exhaled, a little sigh of frustration escaping her lips. As if the evening wasn't already chaotic enough, now she had to deal with the house staff.
"Yes, I'll be down in a minute," Amelia called back, her voice smooth, almost detached.
She glanced at her reflection one last time, her lips curving into a small, practiced smile. Tonight would be no different than the other nights. She would perform her role, leave her mark, and then retreat back into the shadows where she belonged.
After all, it was just another night in the life of the Hong heiress.