The hotel's revolving door spun rapidly.

Sophia darted out, her fingers clamping around the woman's wrist like steel hooks.

The woman struggled in panic, her nails leaving red scratches on Sophia's hand.

The driver rushed over, his iron grip pinning the woman's shoulder.

Vincent approached with a slight frown. "What's going on?"

"She deliberately plucked your hair in the elevator," Sophia said coldly, prying open the woman's clenched fist.

Her palm was empty.

Sophia's sharp eyes scanned the woman's body.

Inside her right pants pocket, several black strands of hair were wrapped in tissues.

"Just as I thought," Sophia held the hair up for Vincent to see.

His gaze turned icy. "Who sent you?"

The woman's eyes darted nervously. "I—I was just paid to do this..."

"Call the police," Vincent pulled out his phone.

The woman suddenly dropped to her knees, pleading. "No! The police will only detain me for a few days. Please, have mercy..."

Vincent smirked. "A repeat offender, I see." He signaled the driver. "Take her back for questioning."

Trembling, the woman blurted, "I'll talk! A stranger contacted me, offering fifty thousand for your hair..."

Vincent dialed the number—it was already disconnected.

A crowd began to gather.

He made another call. "Trace the call records for this number."

Just then, the woman bit down hard on the driver's hand.

He yelped in pain, loosening his grip.

The woman bolted like a startled rabbit, losing a high heel in her frantic escape.

A motorcycle with no license plate roared up.

She leaped onto it and vanished into traffic.

"Don't bother chasing," Vincent stopped the driver. "I know who's behind this."

Sophia's heart skipped. "Who?"

"Ethan Sullivan." Vincent rolled up his sleeve, revealing his muscular forearm.

"Impossible," Sophia said firmly. "If anyone, it'd be Victor Sullivan or Adrian Sullivan."

Vincent recalled Adrian's sinister gaze at the art exhibition and fell into thought.

Once in the car, Sophia immediately called Ethan.

After hearing her out, he remained silent for a few seconds before replying, "Understood."

Ethan set his phone down, his expression darkening.

He wasn't the only one questioning Vincent's true identity.

In the adjacent office, an assistant nervously reported, "Mr. Sullivan, the operation failed."

Adrian slammed a file shut. "Useless!"

"Vincent's security was too tight—"

"Find another opportunity," Adrian narrowed his eyes. "We must obtain that DNA sample."

Night fell, and the mall glittered with lights.

Vincent insisted on buying Sophia a gift.

At the jewelry counter, Sophia's gaze lingered on a blue diamond necklace.

Vincent immediately asked the clerk to retrieve it. "Try it on."

"It's too expensive..."

"Price doesn't matter," Vincent said gently. "If you like it, I'll get it for you."

His words were like a key, unlocking a long-sealed door in Sophia's heart.

Her nose tingled with emotion.

As the necklace clasped around her neck, her reflection shimmered brilliantly.

"I don't want it," she murmured, spotting the seven-digit price tag.

Vincent had already handed over his black card. "Wrap it up."

"That necklace is mine!" A shrill voice interrupted.

Isabella strutted over, arm-in-arm with Theodore Valentine.

Theodore looked down his nose. "Miss Laurent, my daughter saw that necklace first."

Sophia scoffed. "Is her name on it?"

"It's her birthday—"

"What does her birthday have to do with me?" Vincent stepped protectively in front of Sophia. "If you dote on your daughter so much, Mr. Valentine, why not buy the entire mall?"

Theodore's face darkened. "About Ethan Sullivan—"

"Ethan was never hers," Sophia said slowly. "Just like this necklace—it's mine now."

Isabella stomped her foot. "Dad!"

Vincent placed his card on the counter. "Ring it up."

Theodore tried to pull his daughter away, but Isabella glared at the necklace. "I must have it!"

"Process the payment," Vincent repeated to the clerk, his quiet tone brooking no argument.