The Monday morning meeting had just concluded when Ethan Sullivan returned to his office and received a bank transfer notification.

His brow furrowed slightly as he stared at the phone screen.

This enormous transfer had appeared without explanation.

When the finance department confirmed the sender was Sophia Laurent, Ethan's fingers stilled against his desk.

Sixteen million dollars.

To the exact cent.

Every penny he'd given her over the past three years.

The figure sliced through him like a scalpel, reopening the most hidden wound in his heart.

After their intimate reunion in the ancient northwestern city, he'd believed they'd reconciled.

Instead, she'd delivered this final accounting.

Ethan dialed Sophia's number. The mechanical ringtone repeated endlessly in his ear.

No answer.

He contacted Frederick Vanderbilt instead, his tone deceptively calm. "Frederick, is Sophia occupied?"

"The young lady is completely absorbed in restoring an antique painting," Frederick replied cheerfully.

"Please have her return my call."

After hanging up, Ethan watched his phone screen until it darkened.

Lunch passed. Project presentations continued through the afternoon as notifications flooded his phone.

Still no response from her.

At 1 AM, her phone had been switched off.

Standing before the floor-to-ceiling windows, the California nightscape seemed to seep through the glass into his eyes.

A realization struck him—even when he'd held her close, even skin-to-skin, her heart remained inscrutable.

The epiphany kept him awake until dawn.

During the morning board meeting, Ethan abruptly interrupted a presentation. "I'll handle the California research project."

His assistant scrambled through the schedule. "But this afternoon you have—"

"Cancel everything." He rose, his black trench coat cutting a sharp silhouette as he left.

On the afternoon flight, Ethan finally drifted into light sleep.

When his blanket slipped, Zoe Riveron's eyes lit up from the seat behind.

She retrieved it silently, pausing just before her fingertips could brush his shoulder.

Instead, she draped the blanket loosely over him.

After successfully switching seats, Zoe propped her chin on her hand, studying the man's flawless profile.

From his aristocratic brow to the sharp angle of his jaw, down to his elegant hands.

She discreetly raised her camera, capturing dozens of shots in silent mode.

Ethan awoke to Zoe's meticulously crafted smile.

"What a coincidence, Mr. Sullivan."

He acknowledged her with a curt nod before retrieving documents to review.

After landing, Zoe dragged her luggage after him. "Which hotel are you staying at?"

"The Vanderbilt residence." Ethan adjusted his cufflinks. "To see my wife."

Zoe's manicured nails dug into her palms. "You remarried?"

"She will always be my wife." His gaze shifted past her. "The envy is mine."

Zoe's smile froze.

She watched his broad-shouldered figure dissolve into the California sunlight, her boarding pass crumpling in her fist.