Page 139 of Until We Burn
I should feel as confident as Stella, but I don’t.My unfettered nerves run wild inside of me. My fingers fiddle with Kai’s coin in my coat pocket. The cool metal presses into my fingers, conjuring his gentle dark green eyes and warm touch wrapping around my face.
Go and give them hell, princess.
I draw a deep breath in.
Stella nudges my elbow. “Ready?”
I’ve spent the entire day preparing for this. Now that everything is set in place for tonight, there’s nothing else left for me to do except step inside and take my life back.
I exhale. “Let’s go.”
When I walk into the mansion, my grandfather’s presence dominates the space.
The singer in the tearoom croons songs by Teresa Teng by a grand piano that wasn’t there before. I scowl at the horrid bronze dragon sculpture standing sentry at the staircase landing. My grandfather’s gifts have replaced everything familiar; all the dust they had gathered throughout the years has now been thoroughly scrubbed and polished by my mother’s never-ending need for her father-in-law’s approval.
“Diana.”
My family gawks back at me, embarrassed and horrified at me barging into the dining room.
I smile at them. “Good evening.”
Jonathan nearly chokes on his wine. His face goes pale when he sees Stella standing beside me. She smiles at him, fluttering her fingers in a wave.
The satisfaction I feel is brief because when I stare at the end of the table, I make eye contact with my grandfather.
Harrison Hao Long Huang.
Not even illness can decimate the power and intimidation he possesses. Thick gray brows frame his unflinching, reprimanding stare. His fingers steadily tap against his knee, making the Huang family crest on his septum ring flicker. Bàba sits beside him. Disapproval darkens his face, yet his head is slightly lowered. I’ve never seen him look so small and insignificant.
I swallow hard. The hairs stand on the back of my neck as I look back at my grandfather and greet him in Taiwanese Hokkien.
“Agong,lí hó bô?”Grandpa, how are you?
“Huang Si-Ahn,” Agong’s deep, commanding voice is still strong as stones. “You’ve gotten yourself into quite a bit of trouble since I’ve been gone.”
A wry smile crosses my face.
“Oh, you don’t need to worry too much,” I assure. “I’m here to make it right.”
Stella turns on the TV. The guests peer over the threshold of the dining room to watch the screen flashing to life in the screening room behind them.
A solemn-faced news anchor announces the headline.
“New emerging evidence reveals Gregory and Jonathan Huang, heirs to the HMG, are responsible for leaking the details of singer Sasha Vellair’s private relationship.”
The newscast spills out all their lies and manipulations. Shock and disgust overwhelm the faces of every guest watching. What truly disturbs them is the accompanying video of the whistleblower Stella tracked down and negotiated with. He speaks candidly to the camera with his face pixelated and his voice distorted.
“I confess that in September 2024, Jonathan and Gregory Huang employed me to expose the private relationship between Gregory and Sasha Vellair to the media. They sent me screenshots of the intimate conversations and photos of the relationship with the intention to pin the blame on their sister, Diana Huang.”
A weight lifts from my shoulders and my breaths finally thread in and out without effort.
My name is cleared. Now everyone knows I didn’t do it.
A sharp screech breaks through. Gregory storms out of his seat, his face red and fuming. I turn in time to see Jonathan grab his shoulder and vehemently whisper into his ear, forcing him to look at something on his phone. Their eyes pin me down the second they realize their conversation with Sophia is gone.
I simply ignore them and face the table once again. Sophia is pale. Her hand braces the table as stifled panic and relief wars across her face. Mama looks pleadingly at bàba. But he’s simply smiling along with agong.
A sickening nausea festers in my gut.
