Kyle Grant fell silent for a moment. "I only see you as a sister."

Lillian Yates pouted her crimson lips in dissatisfaction. "We're not related by blood at all! Your uncle is my father, and your mother is his second wife."

"I don't have those kinds of feelings for you," Kyle stated bluntly.

"Feelings can grow over time," Lillian persisted, her voice dripping with coquetry.

His brow furrowed slightly. "I have things to attend to. I'm hanging up now."

"Hey!"

The dial tone mocked her. Lillian stomped her foot in frustration.

"Every single time!" She gritted her teeth. "You'd rather pine after a married woman than spare me a second glance!"

She dialed another number—Willow Grant. "Auntie, I met Sophia's ex-husband."

"What did he say?"

"Nothing much, but he's just as handsome as Kyle."

Willow ended the call with little interest.

Meanwhile, Ethan Sullivan returned to the hotel with a dark red wooden box.

Sophia Laurent took it, noticing an antique bronze padlock securing it.

"No key?" She gave the lock a gentle shake.

Ethan arched an eyebrow. "Should I call a locksmith?"

"Unnecessary." Sophia retrieved a thin wire from her bag and picked the lock effortlessly.

Surprise flickered in Ethan's eyes. "You know how to do that?"

"I can fix locks too," she boasted, tilting her chin up proudly.

"Such a treasure." A faint smile curved his lips.

Sophia's fingers stilled.

Kyle had said those exact words before.

Inside the box lay a small white jade vial, its surface smooth with age, inscribed with ancient characters reading "Jade Nectar."

She unsealed it. The transparent ointment emitted a faint limestone scent.

Dabbing a small amount onto the scar on her left hand, she felt an initial coolness, followed by a soothing warmth as if the substance had a life of its own, seeping into her skin.

"Take off your shirt," she ordered abruptly.

Ethan raised an eyebrow. "Scars don't bother men."

Without hesitation, Sophia pushed him onto the bed and deftly unbuttoned his shirt.

Dipping a cotton swab into the ointment, she carefully applied it to the wound on his shoulder. "My man, my rules."

The sweetness of her breath brushed against his cheek.

Ethan's Adam's apple bobbed. "I love it when you pamper me like this."

"Like this?" She cupped his face in her hands.

He grasped her wrists, his voice husky. "I'd prefer your mouth..."

Sophia leaned down to nip at the corner of his lips. "This?"

His gaze dropped suggestively.

"Dream on." Her ears tinged pink, though her heart fluttered with warmth.

This man thrived on the slightest encouragement.

"Not willing?" His voice turned velvety, teasing her senses.

Sophia turned to leave but was yanked back abruptly.

A searing kiss pinned her against the wall until her legs trembled.

He guided her to the bed, only to hiss in discomfort as clothing was shed.

"Battling through bloodshed?" Sophia laughed.

Ethan adjusted her clothes with care. "It's bad for your health."

They fell asleep in each other's arms, though he eventually retreated to the bathroom alone.

Regret gnawed at him—he shouldn't have played the gentleman last night.

By afternoon, Ethan returned to New York City while Sophia, escorted by armed bodyguards, arrived at the Vanderbilt residence.

No sooner had she settled in than Richard Grant called, inviting her to appraise Wu Daozi's Heavenly King Scroll.

To repay Kyle's kindness, she brought a gift and headed to the Grant estate.

The Grants' pure Chinese-style garden was a landscape of pavilions and towers. Amidst them, a woman in an emerald qipao hurried upstairs, her graceful figure suggesting she was Kyle's mother.

Sophia frowned slightly.

This lady seemed to be deliberately avoiding her.