The morning light slipped through the wide glass windows, gilding the white marble floors of Rose Manor in soft gold. The quiet hum of luxury surrounded me, yet it always felt too silent—too rehearsed. My name is Illiana Rose—nineteen, daughter of Yulian Rose, the man the world calls a saint. To me, he's more than that: a mystery wrapped in kindness, a smile that hides something too old for this gentle expression he wears.
My father, Yulian, is all charm and warmth—tall, silver-haired with eyes of ocean blue that once made my late mother fall in love, or so I was told. He has that rare kind of grace that makes even his silence feel elegant. I see him every morning at breakfast, reading the newspaper, his wristwatch glinting gold beneath the chandelier. He looks like a man who built kindness from stone, but sometimes I wonder—if stone could bleed.
Kai, my oldest brother, rarely comes home. He's twenty-five, always walking with the calm arrogance of a man who knows things others don't. His hair is a deep chestnut, neat, always paired with his tailored black coats and the faintest smirk. Everyone says he's too composed for his age, a businessman too polite to be real.
Jay, my second brother, twenty-two, is the loud one—the one who laughs easily and punches shoulders in jest. His messy blond hair and storm-grey eyes make him look like a character carved out of sunlight and rebellion. He's everything carefree and wild, but sometimes when he's quiet, I see something lurking there—something sharp.
And then, there's me.
The youngest. The innocent one. The one who smiles the easiest and lies the best.
At university, I'm just Illiana—known for my grades, my soft voice, my expensive notebook collection. No one suspects a thing. Not the over-enthusiastic students, not the bully who thinks too highly of himself, not even the kind young librarian who looks at me like a puzzle he wants to solve. Maybe he should stop before he learns too much.
My secretary, Adrian, waits by the courtyard gates every morning. White hair that gleams like frost, eyes green as glass, posture sharp as a blade. He says little, but does everything I say. People whisper about his devotion—some call it obsession. They don't know they're right.
We all play our roles perfectly—father, brothers, sister—each with secrets too dangerous to speak. The world sees us as the Roses, beautiful, bright, untouchable. But behind each smile is a fracture. Behind every secret—another lie.
I don't know what Kai hides behind his calm eyes, what Jay buries under his laughter, or what father has locked away behind his gentleness. And maybe it's better that way. Because I have my own empire of shadows too.
The day the Black Sea Guild emerged, everything began to unravel. I just didn't know it yet.