Felix Vanderbilt's slender fingers carefully unrolled a yellowed scroll.

The paper had aged to a brittle tan, its edges slightly curled. Yet the spirited warhorse depicted remained vividly lifelike—head held high, mane flowing, muscles taut with power as if ready to gallop off the page.

"That's an authentic Han Gan from the Tang Dynasty," Sophia Laurent murmured, her fingertips hovering above the artwork without touching.

Felix arched an eyebrow. "You recognized it instantly?"

"His horses have a distinctive vitality." Sophia's gaze lingered on the brushstrokes. "Observe the hoof's posture—that raw dynamism remains unmatched by later artists."

As the group admired the piece in hushed reverence, the pigments abruptly began oxidizing and fading.

"Photograph it now!" Sophia urged, committing every detail to memory while Felix directed bodyguards to document other artifacts. This priceless antiquity would later be restored by her hands, fetching a record sum at auction.

Turning to her, Felix spoke earnestly: "My father insists you choose any treasure we've uncovered."

Sophia blinked in surprise before shaking her head. "I couldn't possibly—"

"Without you, these relics would still be buried." He gestured to the trove of antiquities. "Had that map fallen into other hands..."

Her eyes swept the glittering hoard before settling on an ebony chest. "Just those antique papers—they're invaluable for restoration work."

Felix chuckled. "Truly unique, Ms. Laurent. What's their worth compared to these treasures?"

"To connoisseurs, these are the real masterpieces." She caressed the aged rice paper with professional reverence.

When Felix added a Song Dynasty inkstone and rare inksticks to her prize, Sophia's fingers trembled. These were Five-Mineral Lacquer Inks—infused with gold leaf and precious spices, their crafting techniques long lost.

Cradling them like sacred relics, she didn't notice Felix studying her profile with unexpected fascination. This poised Eastern woman radiated quiet intensity, unlike anyone he'd known.

"Dawn's approaching," he finally said. "We should return."

At the hospital, Ethan Sullivan stood motionless under fluorescent lights, his angular features sharpened by the glare.

"You're up early." Sophia hurried toward him.

His gaze swept past her. "Waiting."

She warmed his cold hands between hers, explaining the night's adventure while sensing his unspoken tension.

Behind closed doors, Ethan embraced her at the sink, silently scrubbing her fingers with his chin resting on her hair.

"Headache better?" she whispered.

"Gone when I see you."

"I'm not pain medication."

"You're the remedy for everything." His gravelly voice dropped lower as he lifted her effortlessly.

The hospital bed creaked faintly beneath his unusually possessive ardor—a wordless claiming. His piercing clarity throughout chilled her.

Later, Sophia found the reason in his phone: a photo of her with Felix in the vault. The way Felix looked at her could indeed be misconstrued.

Amusement and ache tangled in her chest. This proud man harbored vulnerabilities too. Tracing the screen, her heart clenched with tenderness.