Security guards swiftly approached, forcibly escorting Isabella Valentine out.

She maintained a facade of grace, but her nails dug deep into her palms.

At the end of the hallway, Victor Sullivan emerged from the conference room.

"Uncle Victor!" Her voice trembled.

He waved the guards away. "Were you looking for Ethan again?"

Isabella's eyes instantly reddened. "I just—"

"Isabella," Victor sighed, shaking his head. "What happened between you and Adrian has destroyed any possibility."

"I was set up!" she protested urgently.

His gaze held pity. "Facts are facts."

Her entire body shook.

She would never forget that rainy night—Adrian's scorching breath against her ear...

Inside the black sedan, Theodore Valentine frowned at his daughter.

"Dad, Ethan—"

"Your next arranged meeting is tomorrow," he interrupted.

She bit her lip. "None of them compare to Ethan!"

"What about Adrian?" Theodore suddenly suggested.

"He has mistresses!"

A cold smirk twisted his lips. "He'll settle down after marriage. I'll handle the arrangements."

Isabella turned away, her reflection in the window revealing a distorted expression.

At Phoenix Cove Studio, Sophia Laurent adjusted her goggles as the micro-drill hummed softly against the base of the Ashoka Pagoda.

Shane Prescott stood nearby, arms crossed, his gaze sharp as a hawk's.

When the hooked needle retrieved a crimson silk pouch from the pagoda, Sophia's breath hitched.

Ten Buddhist relics shimmered under the light with an otherworldly glow.

"This is..." Her fingertips trembled.

"Buddha's bones," Shane rasped.

Carefully unrolling the accompanying silk painting, Sophia studied the ancient Tangut script swirling like tadpoles.

"It'll take time to decipher," she murmured.

Shane handed her his phone. "Only photograph the text."

Restoration work continued until dusk.

During inspection, Shane employed three different detection devices.

As the safe clicked shut, he slid a stack of cash toward her.

Then placed a single crimson lotus relic beside it.

"Too valuable." Sophia took a step back.

He strode toward the exit without pause. "For your silence."

His silhouette melted into the twilight—an unsolvable enigma.

Cradling the relic, Sophia dialed an overseas number.

"Kyle, I have—"

"Unnecessary." Kyle Grant's voice remained gentle. "My father has many in his collection."

Silence stretched between them.

"Grandmother, she..." Kyle's voice abruptly choked.

Gazing at the crescent moon outside, Sophia recalled her grandfather's withered hands in his final moments.

The phone carried only the sound of suppressed breathing.

"Take care," she finally whispered.

After hanging up, moonlight cast elongated shadows across the floor.

Sophia turned—and froze.

Ethan Sullivan sat on the sofa, his dark eyes unreadable.