The car door slammed shut with a deafening crash.

Ethan Sullivan's force was so violent it made the entire vehicle tremble.

Kyle Grant frowned slightly.

"Sorry, he's had too much to drink," Sophia Laurent quickly explained.

"It's fine."

Noticing the flush on his cheeks, she asked, "Do you need me to call a driver for you?"

"My sister's here."

"Then we'll be going."

Kyle's gaze softened unusually. "Alright."

The alcohol made his eyes linger with unspoken longing.

Sophia dismissed it as drunkenness and turned to leave.

"Wait!" he suddenly called out.

She looked back. "Is there something else?"

Kyle pointed to his own face. "Take a closer look at me..."

The words died on his lips.

With a defeated wave, he said, "Never mind. Go ahead."

"You seem like you want to say something."

"Just drunken ramblings."

Sophia gave him a skeptical glance before getting into the car.

Inside, Ethan sat with his eyes closed, massaging his temples.

She poured him a glass of warm water and held it to his lips. "Drink this."

He obeyed without protest.

Her slender fingers began gently kneading his temples. "Why did you drink so much? Your stomach will hurt."

Ethan suddenly seized her hand.

"Why are you so good to me?"

Sophia chuckled. "What kind of question is that?"

"Answer me."

"Because you deserve it."

"I treated you terribly those first two years, yet you never got angry."

His words were slow, his eyes shadowed with pain.

She pinched his earlobe. "Is that why you're drowning yourself?"

Leaning close to his ear, she whispered, "Blame it on your ridiculously handsome face."

The real reason remained unspoken—it would shatter his pride.

By the time they returned to the Vanderbilt estate, it was late into the night.

Sophia carefully washed his face.

Ethan suddenly gripped her wrist. "You and Isabella..."

His voice faded.

She bent closer to hear him murmur, "I never saw you as her replacement..."

Then he fell into a deep sleep.

Warmth bloomed in Sophia's chest.

That thorn had finally been plucked out.

When she woke at dawn, the other side of the bed was empty.

His phone was turned off.

Frederick Vanderbilt said he'd left for home early that morning.

What happened to staying one more day?

Restlessness plagued her all day.

Concentration was vital for restoration work, so she abandoned her tasks.

Countless calls went unanswered.

By evening, the line finally connected—but no one picked up.

Her messages vanished into the void.

The bodyguard confirmed he'd arrived safely.

Only then did Sophia realize: she was being deliberately ignored.

Her heart turned to ice.

Those two days of tenderness might as well have been a dream.

A knock startled her.

She hastily smoothed her appearance.

Opening the door, she found Kyle standing outside.

"Can I help you?"

He handed her a silver security case.

Inside lay a gold-inlaid jade imperial seal.

"Late Ming dynasty. Rumor says it holds a secret. Find the treasure, and we'll split it."

Sophia examined it closely, her expression growing solemn.