Chapter 001 · Welcome to the Hospital, Where Everyone’s a Patient and I’m the Doctor of Deceit!

Book 1 · PART I

Welcome to Serena's School of Subtle Manipulation: How to Charm, Deceive, and Still Make Friends!

[from chapter 001 to chapter 036]

※※※

The sharp, almost abrasive antiseptic scent hung heavily in the air, clinging to every corner of the hospital. It was a smell that seemed to seep into the walls and floors, sharp and sterile, a constant reminder of the place's purpose. Yet, for some, it was oddly comforting, an anchor of familiarity in a world often ruled by chaos. For Serena D'Angelo, it was as natural as breathing. She moved through the bright, sterile hallways with a practiced ease, her steps brisk but unhurried. Her pristine white coat swayed lightly with each movement, a badge of her dedication to healing. The soft click of her shoes against the linoleum floor was drowned out by the ever-present hum of activity—the beeping monitors, the murmured voices of doctors conferring in corners, the occasional cry of pain or relief.

Serena's smile was warm, the kind of smile that seemed to light up a room. Her dark brown eyes, framed by a kind expression, carried a softness that instantly put people at ease. Her presence exuded confidence and optimism, an almost magnetic energy that drew others to her. She was the picture-perfect embodiment of what a healer should be—kind, approachable, and endlessly compassionate. Her laughter, light and bubbly, often echoed through the hallways, a sound that brought comfort even to those in pain. She was everything one would expect from a dedicated young doctor, eager to make a difference in the lives of those she touched. To anyone watching, Serena D'Angelo was exactly who she appeared to be: a vibrant, skilled twenty-five-year-old woman from Loveliar, the Cancer district, who had earned her place in Downtown Zodiac's most prestigious hospital.

But that was the surface. That was the mask.

Behind the warm smile and sparkling eyes, Seventeen Whitlock lingered like a shadow in the back of her mind. Beneath the gentle, bubbly demeanor lay something sharp, cold, and calculating. Serena was a façade, a carefully constructed lie wrapped in kindness and charm. To everyone around her, she was the kindhearted doctor they trusted implicitly, but the truth was far more complicated.

Seventeen Whitlock, born under the Ophiuchus constellation, was no healer. She was a predator in disguise, biding her time in the heart of Downtown Zodiac. Every movement, every word, every gesture was part of a role she had perfected through years of training and experience. She had walked these hallways for months now, long enough to know every face, every routine, every potential weakness. Her smile, warm and inviting, never faltered, even as her mind worked tirelessly behind the scenes.

["Let the games begin,"] she thought, her lips curling into a subtle, almost imperceptible smile as she passed a cluster of nurses chatting by the front desk. To them, it was nothing more than a kind, passing gesture, but behind her eyes, something else simmered—a cold, calculating edge that no one ever saw. Her confidence in her ability to blend in was unshakable. She moved with purpose, weaving through the busy emergency room as though she belonged, as though she had nothing to hide.

Her touch was light but firm, her voice soothing yet authoritative. She laughed with her coworkers, comforted nervous patients, and navigated the organized chaos of the ER with a grace that seemed effortless. Everything about her radiated warmth and competence, the perfect traits for someone in her position. It was a performance, finely tuned and faultless, the result of years spent mastering the art of deception. Every smile, every reassuring word, every action was deliberate, designed to fit seamlessly into the world she was infiltrating.

Serena was her mask, her armor, her way into a world that had no idea it was being infiltrated. Behind that mask, however, Seventeen's mind was always racing. Strategies, contingencies, possibilities—her thoughts moved like clockwork, calculating every detail, every interaction. She had come too far, sacrificed too much to let anything slip through the cracks. Her resolve was unshakable, her focus razor-sharp. This was her mission, and failure was not an option.

The six heirs would arrive in Downtown Zodiac soon, and when they did, the real work would begin. For now, she had to maintain the façade, blending in perfectly until the time came to strike. Trust, manipulation, execution. The words echoed in her mind like a mantra, each one a step in the dance she had been rehearsing for years. Every patient she saved, every staff member who praised her, every life she touched brought her closer to her ultimate goal.

The six. The prophecy. The endgame.

And no one suspected a thing.

"Serena!" a nurse's voice cut through the air, snapping her out of her thoughts. She turned toward the sound with an easy smile, her expression bright and eager.

"Yes?" she called back, already moving toward the commotion.

"We need help here!" The nurse gestured toward a gurney being wheeled in. On it lay a young girl, no older than seven, her small face pale and pinched with fear.

Seventeen's smile softened as she approached, the warmth in her expression never faltering. "Hey there, sweetheart," she said gently, kneeling beside the gurney so she was eye level with the child. Her voice was soft, melodic, a balm to the girl's obvious terror. "What's your name?"

"L-Lily," the girl stammered, her small body trembling slightly.

"Well, Lily," Seventeen said, her tone as bright as the smile she gave, "you're in good hands, okay? We're going to take great care of you." She reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from the girl's forehead in a gesture that was both motherly and reassuring.

The girl's wide, tear-filled eyes seemed to calm ever so slightly as she nodded.

Seventeen straightened, her expression immediately turning professional as she addressed the nurse. "What's her status?"

"Possible fracture," the nurse replied. "We need to get her to radiology."

"Let's do it," Seventeen said firmly, already moving into action. Her presence was commanding yet calm, a stabilizing force in the chaos. She turned back to the girl and her mother, her voice softening once more. "Lily, we're going to take a little trip, okay? And your mom can come too. Does that sound good?"

The girl nodded again, her tiny hand clutching her mother's.

Seventeen—no, Serena—guided the team with the confidence of someone who had done this a thousand times before. She talked the nurses through the process, reassured the panicked mother with a steady voice and kind words, and calmed the child with gentle humor. By the time Lily was wheeled into radiology, the fear in her eyes had been replaced by a cautious trust.

As the gurney disappeared down the hall, Seventeen straightened, her warm smile fading as the mask of Serena D'Angelo slipped ever so slightly. Her dark eyes cooled, the calculating edge returning as her thoughts shifted back to her true mission.

This was all just part of the game.

※※※

Later that evening, in the sanctuary of her office, Serena—no, Seventeen—allowed herself a rare moment of quiet. The space was small but neat, a reflection of her meticulously crafted persona. The walls were lined with certificates and accolades, awards that painted her as a dedicated healer, a rising star in Downtown Zodiac's medical community. A single lamp on the desk bathed the room in a soft, golden glow, casting faint shadows on the polished surface. She leaned back in her chair, the tension of the day slowly easing from her shoulders as she let the silence settle around her like a comforting blanket.

With steady hands, she opened the drawer of her desk and pulled out the envelope that had arrived days earlier. The paper was heavy and smooth, embossed with the crest of Imperious, the capital of the Zodiac Archipelago. She turned it over in her hands, studying it as if the weight of her mission was somehow embedded in its ornate design. Finally, she slid her finger under the seal, opening it once more. Inside was the invitation—a formal summons to a gala unlike any other.

The words, written in an elegant, flowing script, danced before her eyes. It was an exclusive event, one where the heirs of the twelve ruling districts would gather. A celebration of unity and strength, the invitation had proclaimed. To Seventeen, it was something else entirely. It was an opportunity—a rare, perfect opportunity. All of the heirs, the future leaders of the Zodiac Archipelago, would be in attendance. The children of the rulers, the six strongest among them, the ones marked by the prophecy.

They were all vital. Each one was a key piece in the intricate game she had been playing for years. Each one was essential to her plan.

Seventeen's lips curved into a small, satisfied smile as she read the details again, committing them to memory. She had spent years preparing for this, studying every move, every possibility, waiting for this moment to finally come. Now, with all the heirs in one place, the next phase of her mission could begin.

To them, she was still Serena D'Angelo—a charming, capable doctor from Loveliar, someone far removed from the politics and prophecies that governed their lives. The thought of it made her smile widen, her amusement tinged with a dark irony. She had been watching them for years, learning their strengths, weaknesses, habits, and fears, all while staying hidden in the shadows. They didn't know her—yet.

But soon, they would.

Seventeen leaned back in her chair, her fingers idly tracing the edges of the invitation as she thought about the task ahead. The heirs were more than just children of the rulers. They were the strongest among their kind, destined to play a role in the prophecy that had shaped her entire life. And now, it would be her turn to shape theirs. She would be the one to lead them, to bend their wills to her purpose, to guide them toward an end they could neither foresee nor escape.

Her thoughts lingered on Draco de Lavissaye, the heir of Libra. He was already in the city. She had seen him earlier that day, a fleeting glimpse in the chaos of the hospital. Even in that brief moment, he had left an impression—tall, broad-shouldered, and strikingly handsome, with an air of icy detachment that made him impossible to ignore. His sharp features and piercing eyes had a way of making the world around him seem insignificant, as though he was above it all.

She hadn't missed the way his gaze had briefly settled on her. It was only a moment, but it was enough. He had noticed her. That was good—necessary, even. Seventeen had always known that Draco would be the hardest to control, the most resistant to her influence. But she wasn't worried. She was patient, and patience was a weapon she wielded with precision.

The others would arrive soon enough. Claus Villareal from Leo, the charismatic Crown Prince of Imperious, with his golden smile and magnetic charm. Light Valiant, the fierce and fiery daughter of Aries, known for her unrelenting determination. Amelia Saint-Montclaire, the brilliant and stoic Capricorn heir, whose quiet strength was as formidable as her intellect. Hunter Hart, the adventurous and unpredictable Sagittarius, always chasing the next thrill. And finally, Sablina Wysdomleaf of Virgo, calm and analytical, her sharp mind always a step ahead.

Each one was a piece of the same puzzle, a player in the same game. And Seventeen was the one holding the board.

Her fingers tightened around the invitation as her smile faded, replaced by a look of cold determination. This was it. The moment she had been working toward for so long. There was no room for hesitation, no margin for error. The prophecy had brought them together, but it would be her will, her vision, that decided how the story ended.

Seventeen set the invitation down on the desk and rose from her chair, the quiet resolve in her movements a stark contrast to the storm brewing within her. The gala was days away, but she was already planning her approach, every detail meticulously calculated. She would observe, assess, and adapt. Trust, manipulation, execution—the mantra repeated in her mind like a drumbeat.

It was time to take the next step. Time to put the plan into motion.

The heirs had no idea what was coming.

※※※

Draco's gaze lingered on Serena from across the bustling hospital cafeteria, sharp and unrelenting. He observed her in silence, the chaos of the room fading into a distant hum as he focused solely on her. She moved with an ease that seemed almost unnatural, her every step measured, her every action purposeful. She laughed softly at something a nurse said, her smile lighting up her face in a way that seemed designed to disarm even the most guarded of souls. Yet, to Draco, there was something wrong—something that didn't sit right.

She was too perfect. Too polished. Too calculated.

It wasn't just the way she interacted with everyone around her, the way doctors and nurses alike seemed to hang on her every word, as if her presence alone was a balm for the stress and urgency that filled the hospital's walls. It wasn't just the way she carried herself, exuding an effortless charm that felt almost too good to be true. It was something deeper. Something beneath the surface.

A shadow beneath her smile.

"She's got your attention, huh?" Claus's voice broke through Draco's thoughts. His cousin slid into the chair across from him, a plate of food in hand, his ever-present grin widening as he followed Draco's line of sight. "I saw you staring."

Draco scowled, his jaw tightening as he reluctantly turned his attention to Claus. "I wasn't staring."

"Sure," Claus said, drawing out the word with mock disbelief. He shrugged, a playful glint in his golden eyes that never wavered. "Whatever you say, cousin. But I don't blame you. She's cute—blonde, bubbly, the whole 'ray of sunshine' thing going on. Not your type at all, but hey, I can see the appeal."

Draco's scowl deepened, his brows drawing together as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Exactly. She's not my type." His voice was low, clipped, the words carrying a weight that made Claus raise an eyebrow in curiosity.

"Then why the sudden interest?" Claus asked, leaning back in his chair with an easy nonchalance, though the curiosity in his tone betrayed his amusement. "Because, let me tell you, it looks like more than a casual observation from where I'm sitting."

Draco's gaze flicked back to Serena, who was now talking to a group of interns, her laughter ringing out like a melody above the din of the cafeteria. Her blonde hair fell in soft waves around her face, her bright smile never faltering as she handed one of the interns a clipboard. On the surface, she was the picture of warmth and kindness, the kind of person who seemed incapable of anything but good intentions.

But Draco didn't buy it.

"Something's off about her," he said finally, his voice quieter now, almost as if he were speaking more to himself than to Claus.

Claus tilted his head, studying his cousin with a mix of intrigue and exasperation. "Or maybe you're just paranoid. Not everyone's out to get you, you know. Some people are just… good."

Draco gave him a sidelong glance, his expression unreadable, before returning his focus to Serena. "Maybe," he muttered. The word tasted bitter on his tongue because he didn't believe it. Not for a second. Years of navigating his parents' political games, of surviving their manipulations and betrayals, had taught him better. Trust was a luxury he couldn't afford, especially now.

And Serena? She was a puzzle. A beautiful, smiling puzzle wrapped in layers of charm and grace. But a puzzle nonetheless.

Claus smirked, shaking his head as he leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. "You know, sometimes a cute doctor is just a cute doctor. Not everything is a conspiracy, Draco."

Draco didn't respond, his gaze never wavering from Serena as she moved gracefully across the cafeteria, her white coat fluttering slightly behind her. "She's hiding something," he said finally, his voice firm, resolute.

Claus raised an eyebrow, his smirk softening into something closer to concern. "You don't even know her. You've never even talked to the girl. Maybe she's just good at her job, ever think of that? She's a doctor!"

Draco shook his head, his jaw tightening as his fingers drummed against the edge of the table. "It's not about how good she is at her job," he said, his tone sharper now. "It's the way she carries herself. The way she… fits in. It's too perfect. Too seamless. No one is that perfect."

Claus let out a low whistle, leaning back again as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Man, you really have a talent for finding flaws where there probably aren't any. I'm starting to think you might need a hobby. Or a girlfriend."

Draco shot him a withering glare, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "Don't you have somewhere else to be?"

"Not until you admit you're being ridiculous," Claus said with a grin, clearly enjoying himself. "Come on, Draco. What's the worst that could happen? She turns out to be normal, and you'll have wasted all this time brooding over nothing?"

Draco didn't answer. His instincts were rarely wrong, and they were screaming at him now, louder than ever. There was more to Serena than met the eye, and he intended to figure out exactly what it was.

No matter how long it took.

※※※

Back in the bustling chaos of the ER, Seventeen was acutely aware of Draco's gaze on her. It wasn't the casual glance of a man simply taking notice; no, this was different. His gaze was sharp, probing, and filled with a quiet suspicion that sent a ripple of energy through the room, though no one else seemed to notice. But she did. She always noticed. He had been watching her for a while now, his dark eyes carefully studying her every move, every interaction, every carefully placed smile.

She didn't have to look at him to feel the weight of his scrutiny. She could sense it, like the faint hum of a predator lying in wait, studying its prey. But Seventeen was no prey. She never had been.

["Good,"] she thought, her lips curving into a soft, pleasant smile as she handed a chart to one of the nurses. The motion was calm, unassuming, the kind of thing no one would think twice about. ["Let him watch. Let him think he's ahead."]

Her hands moved deftly, her focus seemingly on the task at hand as she checked a monitor and adjusted the IV line for a patient. But beneath the surface, her mind worked like a well-oiled machine, every thought calculated and deliberate. Everything was going according to plan. Draco de Lavissaye, the heir to Libra, was exactly where she wanted him—close, curious, and suspicious.

He was dangerous, of course. She had known that from the moment she first laid eyes on him. As the heir to Libra, Draco was no stranger to power or strategy. His perfectly sculpted exterior of cold diplomacy and quiet authority had been forged in the fires of his parents' ruthless rule. He was sharp, intelligent, and unyielding, a man accustomed to getting what he wanted, no matter the cost.

But Seventeen had spent a lifetime perfecting the art of bending even the strongest wills. Draco was the first of the six she needed to draw in, and she could already see the cracks in his armor. His skepticism, his curiosity—those were the weaknesses she would exploit. She had learned long ago that people like Draco were most vulnerable when they believed they were in control.

And that was her greatest strength—letting them think they held the upper hand while she pulled the strings from the shadows.

Seventeen's smile deepened slightly as she stepped away from the nurse, her movements graceful and measured, the very picture of calm amidst the chaos of the ER. She exchanged a few words with a colleague, her tone light and easy, a soft laugh escaping her lips at just the right moment. To everyone around her, she was Serena D'Angelo, the dedicated and compassionate doctor from Loveliar.

But beneath the surface, her thoughts were anything but light.

["He's trying to figure me out,"] she mused, her eyes flicking briefly to where Draco stood, his dark gaze still locked on her. He was subtle, careful not to make it obvious to anyone else, but she could feel the intensity of his focus like a pulse in the air. ["Let him try. He won't succeed."]

Draco was the first piece on the board, but he wouldn't be the last. The others would follow in time—Claus Villarreal from Leo, Light Valiant from Aries, Amelia Saint-Montclaire from Capricorn, Hunter Hart from Sagittarius, and Sablina Wysdomleaf from Virgo. They were all vital pieces in the same game, and Seventeen was the one holding the board. She had been preparing for this moment for years, crafting every detail, anticipating every move.

After all, wasn't that what she did best? Drawing people in with warmth and light, wrapping them in a web of trust and comfort while keeping her true self hidden in the shadows? She had fooled them all before—the rulers, the districts, even herself, at times. And she would do it again.

They would fall into place, each one of them. They had to. And when the time was right, she would strike.

Seventeen moved seamlessly through the ER, her every action deliberate, every word carefully chosen. She offered a kind smile to a worried patient, a reassuring touch on the shoulder of a grieving family member. She laughed softly at a joke one of the nurses made, her laughter ringing out like a beacon of light in the grim, sterile space.

But beneath it all, her mind was a storm of plans and calculations.

["I am not Serena,"] she reminded herself, the words like a mantra she had repeated countless times. ["But they don't need to know that."]

Her eyes found Draco again, just for a moment. He hadn't moved, still standing with that same quiet intensity, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched her. She could see the gears turning in his mind, the questions forming as he tried to piece together the puzzle in front of him.

He wouldn't figure her out. Not yet. Not until she wanted him to.

For now, she was Serena D'Angelo—the kind, bubbly doctor from Loveliar, a woman with no connection to the prophecy or the rebellion brewing beneath the surface of the Zodiac Archipelago.

And Serena?

Serena was everything they needed her to be.

※※※

Draco couldn't shake the feeling that something was off about Serena. It wasn't a vague sense of unease but a deep, gut-wrenching certainty that something about her didn't add up. She was too perfect, too poised, too in control of every situation she stepped into. It wasn't just the way she seemed to glide effortlessly through the hospital, commanding respect and attention from everyone around her. It was something deeper, something he couldn't quite put into words but could feel in his bones.

He had spent his entire life surrounded by deception—by people who wore masks so well that the line between their real selves and the personas they projected had long since blurred. It was a skill his parents had perfected, one they had tried to pass down to him. But Draco had learned more than they intended. He had learned to see through the lies, to spot the cracks in even the most carefully constructed façades. And Serena? She was hiding something. He didn't know what it was yet, but he could feel it, a tension beneath her practiced smiles, a coldness beneath the warmth she exuded.

From across the room, he watched her laugh with the other doctors, her voice soft and melodic, her eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that made her seem so genuine, so real. She had a way of putting people at ease, of making them feel seen and heard, as if they were the only ones in the room. But Draco wasn't fooled. He had seen enough deception in his life to recognize it when it was staring him in the face.

There was something calculated about her every move, every word. It reminded him too much of the political games his parents played, the way they used charm and charisma as weapons, lulling people into a false sense of security before striking when they least expected it.

"She's a mystery," he muttered under his breath, his brows furrowing as he continued to study her.

"Who?"

Draco turned his head slightly to see Hunter standing beside him, following the direction of his gaze.

"The doctor?" Hunter asked, his voice laced with mild curiosity.

Draco nodded, his jaw tightening. "There's something about her."

Hunter smirked, leaning casually against the wall. "Yeah, she's hot. I get it."

Draco's scowl deepened, his tone sharp. "That's not what I meant."

Hunter chuckled, clearly amused by Draco's irritation. "Relax, man. You're way too paranoid. She's just a doctor. You haven't even spoken to her, and you're already overthinking something that might be nothing at all."

"Maybe," Draco conceded, though the word felt hollow. He crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes narrowing as he turned his attention back to Serena. "But I don't think so."

Hunter raised an eyebrow, but he didn't push further. Instead, he followed Draco's gaze to Serena, watching her for a moment before shrugging. "I think you're reading too much into this. Not everyone has some hidden agenda, you know."

Draco didn't respond. Maybe Hunter was right. Maybe he was overthinking it. But he couldn't shake the feeling that Serena wasn't just a doctor. She wasn't just someone who happened to cross their paths. There was something deliberate about her presence, the way she watched them, the way she seemed to study them even as she laughed and smiled.

He had spent his entire life surrounded by people with hidden agendas, people who pretended to be one thing while plotting something entirely different. And Serena? She was no different.

The question wasn't if she was hiding something. It was what she was hiding—and why.

His gaze lingered on her as she moved effortlessly through the room, her steps measured, her posture relaxed. To anyone else, she might have seemed like nothing more than a dedicated doctor, someone who cared deeply about her work and the people around her. But to Draco, it was an act. It had to be.

There were too many little things that didn't add up—the way her eyes darted around the room, as if she was cataloging every detail; the way she seemed to be in the perfect place at the perfect time, as if she always knew exactly where she needed to be. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but Draco had learned to trust his instincts.

And his instincts were screaming at him that Serena D'Angelo was not what she appeared to be.

Hunter sighed, breaking Draco's train of thought. "Look, if she's really bothering you that much, why don't you just go talk to her? Ask her some questions, see if she slips up or whatever it is you're hoping for."

Draco shot him a look. "I don't need to talk to her to know something's off."

Hunter smirked again, his tone light but teasing. "Suit yourself, detective. Just don't spend all day brooding about it."

Draco ignored him, his focus returning to Serena. She was laughing again, her smile radiant as she spoke to one of the nurses. To anyone else, she would have seemed harmless—kind, bubbly, the type of person who made the world a little brighter just by being in it.

But Draco wasn't anyone else.

And he knew better than to trust appearances.

※※※

As the day wore on and the frenetic pace of the hospital began to slow, Seventeen finally allowed herself a moment of solitude. It wasn't often that she had the luxury of silence, of space to think without the noise of bustling nurses, the chatter of patients, or the sharp ring of monitors breaking her focus. She stood by the wide window in the hospital's east wing, her arms loosely crossed over her chest as she gazed out at the sprawling city below. Downtown Zodiac glittered in the deep night, the lights of its towering skyscrapers cutting through the dark like sharp diamonds. Beyond them, the water surrounding the city shimmered faintly under the pale glow of the crescent moon.

It was a breathtaking sight, beautiful in its way, but there was a coldness to it, a sense of detachment that mirrored her own emotions. The city was alive, yet distant—teeming with life, yet entirely indifferent. It reminded her of the people she would soon be manipulating, their polished exteriors masking sharp edges beneath.

Her fingers tapped lightly against her arm as her thoughts wandered, inevitably circling back to Draco. He was the key to everything, she knew that much. The others would follow in time, but Draco? He would be the hardest to crack. There was a stubbornness in him, an unyielding strength that both frustrated and intrigued her. But Seventeen had always loved a challenge, and Draco was proving to be an enticing one.

He was watching her—he had been watching her since the moment she arrived. She could feel it, that sharp, assessing gaze of his trailing her every move. It wasn't just suspicion; it was something more. Curiosity. That was what set him apart from the others. The others might have their doubts, but Draco's curiosity burned brighter than his distrust. And curiosity? That was something she could use.

She shifted her weight slightly, her gaze still fixed on the shimmering cityscape. ["He'll come to me,"] she thought, her lips curving into a faint, almost imperceptible smile before it faded again. ["They all will."]

It was only a matter of time. Draco's skepticism was a hurdle, yes, but it wasn't insurmountable. She had dealt with skeptics before, men and women who thought they could see through her, who believed they could uncover the truth she kept buried beneath layers of charm and deception. But none of them had succeeded. She had fooled them all, and Draco would be no different.

He was clever—cleverer than most, perhaps—but that only made him more predictable. Clever people were often too confident in their own abilities, too reliant on their instincts. They didn't realize how easy it was to manipulate those instincts, to feed them the exact information they thought they were uncovering on their own. And Seventeen? She was an expert at it.

For now, though, she would play her part. The kind, bubbly doctor. The healer. The one who brought light and warmth to those around her. It was a role she had perfected over the years, one that came as naturally to her as breathing. People wanted to trust her, to believe in her. They wanted to see the best in her, even when she gave them every reason not to.

And she let them.

She allowed herself to be what they needed her to be, all while keeping her true self hidden in the shadows. It was a delicate balancing act, one she had mastered long ago. And when the time came, when their trust in her was absolute, she would reveal her true self—not the healer, but the manipulator. The strategist. The girl destined to lead them all.

Her fingers stilled, her arms falling to her sides as she leaned forward slightly, her reflection faintly visible in the glass. The city continued to sparkle before her, oblivious to the storm she was about to unleash. She wondered, not for the first time, if they would ever forgive her when the truth came to light—if Draco would forgive her.

The thought lingered for only a moment before she pushed it aside. Forgiveness didn't matter. What mattered was the mission. The prophecy. The six who would stand by her side, whether they wanted to or not.

["This is the way it has to be,"] she reminded herself, her gaze hardening as she straightened her posture. ["I don't need their forgiveness. I just need them to follow."]

Her eyes flicked back to the faint reflection of herself in the glass, a shadow of the girl she had once been. Not Serena. Not the kind, bubbly doctor from Loveliar. Not even the girl they thought they knew.

No. She was Seventeen Whitlock. The one who would bring them all to their knees.

Turning away from the window, she let her practiced smile settle back into place, soft and inviting, as if nothing dark had crossed her mind at all. The hospital was still quiet, the night stretching out before her, and she had work to do.

For now, she would wait and let them watch. Let them wonder. Let Draco think he was the one uncovering the mystery of who she was. It was all part of the game, and Seventeen always played to win.

※※※

In the quiet stillness of the hospital, Seventeen felt a rush of anticipation ignite like a fire in her veins. The moment she had been waiting for was finally here. The pieces were falling into place, aligning with a precision that felt almost fated. The heirs were arriving, their paths converging on Downtown Zodiac. Soon, the stage would be set, and the game she had spent years preparing for would finally begin in earnest.

Seventeen stood by the large window in her office, her hands resting lightly on the cold sill as she took a slow, deliberate breath. The cool night air filtering through the slight crack in the window carried with it the faint hum of the city below. Downtown Zodiac stretched before her like a living, breathing entity. Its skyline twinkled with lights, casting a glow that mirrored the stars scattered across the heavens. It was breathtaking, a glittering illusion of serenity and splendor.

But Seventeen knew better. Beneath that dazzling exterior, the city was a boiling cauldron of power struggles, betrayals, and ambitions. It had always been this way. A battlefield where alliances were as fragile as glass, and every smile concealed a hidden blade. And now, amidst the chaos, a destiny that had been set in motion long before she was even born was coming to claim its due.

The weight of that destiny was like a physical presence, pressing down on her shoulders. Yet, rather than crush her, it invigorated her. She welcomed it. She thrived under its pressure, her resolve sharpening like a blade with every passing moment.

Her gaze remained fixed on the sparkling skyline as her thoughts took a darker turn. ["I'll make them believe in Serena,"] she thought, her lips curling into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. It was a smile devoid of warmth, a mask of satisfaction that didn't quite reach her eyes. ["I'll make them trust her—trust me."]

Her reflection in the window was ghostly in the dim light, a shadow of the woman she truly was. ["And when they do,"] she continued silently, her expression hardening, ["they won't see Seventeen coming until it's far too late."]

The sharp sound of a soft knock at the door broke through her thoughts, pulling her back to the present. Her composure shifted instantly, her expression softening into the practiced warmth of her alter ego.

"Dr. D'Angelo?" a voice called hesitantly from outside the door.

Seventeen's smile widened, becoming sweet and inviting as she turned away from the window. "Come in," she called, her tone light and cheerful.

The door opened to reveal a young nurse, her cheeks flushed and her movements hurried, betraying her excitement. "Dr. D'Angelo, it's time," the nurse said, her words tumbling out in a rush. "The heirs of the twelve districts have arrived in the city. They've all gathered for the gala."

The corners of Seventeen's mouth lifted ever so slightly, though her smile didn't falter. Perfect. The timing was impeccable.

"Thank you for letting me know," Seventeen replied, her voice steady and cheerful, carrying the comforting cadence of someone trustworthy and dependable. "I'll be down shortly."

The nurse nodded quickly, her excitement still evident, and left the room, the door clicking softly shut behind her.

Seventeen was alone again, and the warmth in her expression vanished like smoke, leaving behind something colder, sharper. Her heart quickened—not with nerves, but with the thrill of what was to come. This night, this gala, would be the perfect stage. It wasn't just a social event; it was an opportunity. A chance to observe. To test the waters. To plant the seeds of trust and deception that would soon blossom into control.

Each of the six heirs would be there tonight, blissfully unaware of how deeply entangled they would soon become in her web. They didn't realize yet that their paths were no longer their own, that every step they took would lead them closer to her. She would pull them in, slowly, subtly, until they were hers to command.

Turning toward the mirror on the wall, she studied her reflection with a critical eye. Everything about her appearance had been meticulously chosen, down to the smallest detail. Her curly golden hair, styled in soft, effortless waves, framed her face in a way that was both approachable and elegant. Her dress, a sleek yet understated cobalt blue, was perfectly tailored to enhance her natural features without drawing too much attention. The deep hue brought out her blue eyes, lending her an air of professionalism and charm that was entirely intentional.

She adjusted the neckline of her dress slightly, ensuring it struck the perfect balance between sophisticated and inviting. Everything about Serena D'Angelo, from her gentle smile to the warmth in her gaze, was a carefully constructed facade. Trustworthy. Harmless. Everything they needed her to be.

But behind that mask, Seventeen's mind was a storm of calculations and strategies. She wasn't Serena, not really. The bubbly doctor was nothing more than a tool, a disguise crafted to disarm and deceive. The real Seventeen was always watching, always waiting, hidden beneath layers of charm and feigned kindness.

Satisfied with her reflection, she stepped back, smoothing her dress one last time before turning toward the door. The soft click of her heels echoed in the empty room as she walked, each step deliberate, purposeful.

As she exited her office and began making her way through the quiet hospital corridors, her thoughts sharpened. The streets of Downtown Zodiac awaited her, alive with the energy of the night. The gala loomed ahead, a glittering spectacle of power and opulence, and she was ready for it.

This was her moment. The beginning of the end. Tonight, she would begin weaving her web, slowly pulling the heirs closer to her, one by one. They wouldn't see it happening, wouldn't realize until it was far too late that she had already ensnared them.

Her lips curved into a faint smile as she stepped out into the cool night air, the city lights reflecting in her eyes. Let the games begin.

※※※

The gala was a grand affair, held in one of the most opulent and prestigious buildings in the heart of Downtown Zodiac. Everything about it screamed extravagance, from the glittering chandeliers that hung high from the vaulted ceilings to the marble floors polished to a mirror-like sheen. The room was a sea of elegance, filled with the elite of the Zodiac Archipelago. Women in shimmering gowns and men in finely tailored suits moved through the space, their laughter mingling with the soft hum of classical music and the clinking of crystal glasses.

Despite the festive air, there was an underlying tension. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but for those who paid attention, it was there. The heirs of the twelve districts had gathered, and with them came the weight of expectation, of unspoken rivalries and alliances that would shape the future. Every conversation, every shared glance, felt like a move in a game of chess, calculated and deliberate.

Seventeen entered the room with the poise of someone who belonged, though every step she took was carefully measured. Her eyes swept the crowd, taking in every detail with a precision that was second nature to her. The faces she sought weren't difficult to spot—they stood out, each in their own way, like bright stars in a constellation.

Claus Villarreal, the golden prince of Leo, was surrounded by a circle of admirers. His golden hair caught the light, making him appear almost ethereal. He laughed easily, his charm so effortless it felt rehearsed. Light Valiant, the heiress of Aries, stood near the bar, her fiery red hair pulled back in a sleek style that emphasized her sharp features. She exuded strength and determination, her stance commanding respect without a word. Hunter Hart from Sagittarius leaned against a column, his posture casual but his gaze sharp, watching the room with the quiet intensity of someone who missed nothing.

In a quieter corner, Amelia Saint-Montclaire of Capricorn and Sablina Wysdomleaf of Virgo were locked in conversation. Their connection was subtle yet undeniable, their body language suggesting a bond stronger than the superficial ties most people in this room shared. Amelia's icy elegance was a stark contrast to Sablina's understated grace, but together, they seemed in harmony.

And then there was Draco de Lavissaye.

He stood apart from the crowd, his presence commanding even in isolation. His dark eyes moved slowly across the room, taking in everything with a cool detachment that bordered on indifference. There was an intensity to him, a quiet power that made people hesitate before approaching. Even from across the room, Seventeen could feel his gaze. It was steady, unwavering, and she knew without looking that he was watching her.

["Still suspicious,"] she thought, a flicker of amusement passing through her mind. ["Good. Let him be. Suspicion keeps people on edge."]

Her lips curved into a faint smile as she stepped further into the room. Every movement, every glance, was deliberate. Her entrance was subtle, yet heads turned as she passed. The whispers started almost immediately—the talented new doctor from Loveliar, the one who had managed to secure a coveted position in the city's most prestigious hospital. Her story had been crafted carefully, every detail designed to make Serena D'Angelo seem unassuming yet impressive. The perfect cover.

She wove through the crowd with practiced ease, her smile warm and inviting as she greeted those who crossed her path. Each interaction was brief but meaningful, her words carefully chosen to leave a positive impression. She could feel the weight of their curiosity, their interest, and it only strengthened her resolve.

It didn't take long for Claus to notice her. His eyes lit up as he stepped away from his circle of admirers, his smile widening as he approached. He moved with the confidence of someone who was used to being the center of attention, his charm practically radiating off him.

"Serena, isn't it?" he asked, his voice smooth, his tone just the right mix of casual and curious. "The new doctor from the hospital?"

"That's right," Seventeen replied, her voice soft and pleasant, her smile a perfect blend of modesty and warmth. "I'm still getting used to the city, but it's been quite an experience so far."

"Downtown Zodiac can be overwhelming," Claus said, his golden eyes sparkling with amusement. "But you seem to be handling it just fine."

"Oh, I'm trying," she said with a light laugh, the sound so genuine it could disarm even the most skeptical. "Thank you. It's nice to finally meet you. I've heard so much about all of you."

"Only good things, I hope," Claus teased, his grin widening. He had the easy confidence of someone who knew the effect he had on people, who had spent his life being adored.

Seventeen nodded, her expression carefully crafted to convey just the right amount of awe. "Oh, of course. Who hasn't heard of the most fascinating heirs of the Zodiac Archipelago?"

The exchange had drawn the attention of the others. Light glanced over, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly as she assessed Seventeen. Amelia and Sablina paused their conversation, their gazes curious but reserved. Hunter tilted his head, a lazy smile tugging at his lips, though his eyes betrayed his keen observation.

But it was Draco's gaze that she felt most keenly. He hadn't moved, hadn't approached, but his eyes were on her, steady and penetrating. It was as if he were trying to see through her, to peel back the layers and uncover what lay beneath. Seventeen resisted the urge to look directly at him. ["Not yet. Let him wait."]

"You should join us," Claus said, motioning toward the group with a welcoming gesture. "I'm sure you'll find everyone very… inviting."

"I'd love to," Seventeen replied, her smile never faltering.

As she stepped into the circle of heirs, she felt a surge of satisfaction. This was the moment she had been waiting for. Each interaction, every carefully chosen word, was another thread in the web she was weaving. She was Serena D'Angelo, the kind and bubbly healer, a woman with no ties to the past, no connection to the prophecy. But beneath that flawless exterior, Seventeen Whitlock was watching. Waiting.

The night was young, and the game had only just begun.