Iris Evans widened her eyes. "He's my real brother, blood-related!"

Sophia Laurent's expression turned serious. "The phoenix ritual vessel is at least a Class One artifact. The minimum sentence for trafficking it is three years. If he's truly your brother, you should convince him to stop. There are plenty of legitimate jobs out there."

Iris sighed. "He won’t listen."

"Then keep trying until he does."

Iris slumped. "Our Prescott family has been tomb raiders for generations. My biological father was legendary in the underground world—they called him 'Silas the Strategist.' If I were a man, I’d be down in those tombs too. Some things can’t be changed. Tomb raiding brings in fast money. What else could my brother do? Work in a factory? Slaving away for a few thousand a year? One dig nets them millions."

Sophia fell silent for a moment. "The risks are too high."

Iris scratched her head. "Fortune favors the bold."

"Your brother isn’t short on money, is he?"

Iris hesitated. "Our father had a gambling problem. Money came and went. My brother had no choice."

Sophia said nothing more.

This was someone else’s family matter. It wasn’t her place to interfere.

Sophia picked up the phoenix vessel and headed into her studio.

The tail of the phoenix had broken off and needed soldering.

After soldering, the seams would need blending, followed by patination.

The patina was complex—green tinged with yellow and streaks of red.

Matching the colors required pure instinct.

Sophia was grateful for the talent inherited from her parents, the meticulous training from her grandfather Benjamin Laurent, and the bronze restoration techniques passed down by Theodore Valentine.

When she stepped out to get water, Ethan Sullivan called.

"Wear your mask and gloves when handling excavated artifacts. The energy from burial sites is heavy."

Sophia chuckled. "I’m not even pregnant yet. You’re overreacting."

Ethan’s tone was firm. "Preconception care is important."

"Got it."

After hanging up, Iris stared at her with envy. "I’m so jealous. Where did you find a man this attentive?"

Sophia glanced at her. "Don’t you have Zane?"

Iris crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe. "We’re in a cold war."

"What happened?"

"He wanted to sleep with me. I refused, so he got mad."

Sophia raised an eyebrow. "You were pretty bold chasing after Kyle. Why so reserved with Zane?"

"Kyle is reliable. Zane’s slippery—he might not take responsibility afterward. Don’t let my attitude fool you—I’m still untouched."

Sophia nodded. "Zoe is definitely a handful. It’s good to be cautious."

"That woman is a nightmare. I’m scared she’ll stir up trouble."

After drinking her water, Sophia returned to her restoration work.

Iris watched from the sidelines.

By evening, Sophia was ready to leave.

Iris mysteriously handed her a paper bag. "Soph, a little gift for your baby-making plans."

Sophia reached to open it, but Iris stopped her.

"Wait till you get home."

Back at Moon Bay, after her shower, Sophia unwrapped the package.

Inside was a set of black lace lingerie—barely there and sheer.

Sophia burst out laughing.

Ethan glanced over. "Didn’t expect Iris to be this thoughtful."

Sophia dangled the delicate fabric. "Should I try it on?"

Ethan smirked. "I can barely control myself when you’re not wearing it. If you put that on, we might bring the roof down."

Sophia’s cheeks flushed.

Ethan wrapped his arms around her from behind, his muscles pressing against her curves. He whispered in her ear, "I want a child, but I dread the year of abstinence after you get pregnant."

Sophia raised her right hand, grinning. "Don’t worry. I’m quite skilled with these."

Ethan chuckled darkly. "You’ve gotten bold."

"Don’t like it?"

"I love being in your hands." He nipped her earlobe. "Come on. Let’s make a baby."

Ethan swept her up into his arms.

The moment they entered the bedroom, he pinned her against the wall in a searing kiss.

Gentle at first, then fierce.

Clothes scattered.

He pressed her into the bed.

Passion surged.

The room filled with the scent of sweet desire.

Two weeks later, at dusk, Victor Sullivan arrived with his driver and bodyguards, delivering a mountain of supplements—bird’s nest, seafood, fruit, nuts piled high.

Sophia thanked him.

Victor straightened his tie. "Don’t hold my past mistakes against me. I did the same when Audrey was preparing for pregnancy. Ethan and Natalie turned out brilliantly."

Sophia understood.

He was aiming for superior genetics.

Victor smoothed his freshly dyed black hair. "I can be irritating at times, but my heart’s in the right place. You’ll understand when your son gets married."

Sophia replied coolly, "I just want my child to be happy."

Victor grew serious. "The Sullivan empire is vast. We must plan meticulously."

Sophia thought of Ethan and Alexander Valentine.

These heirs to wealthy families might seem privileged, but they carried burdens—and dangers—ordinary people couldn’t fathom.

After seeing Victor off, night had fully fallen.

Just outside the gates, a tall man in black approached.

His face was masked, and he carried a briefcase, moving with urgency.

Victor tensed. "Stop! What’s your business at Sophia’s home?"

Shane Prescott shot him a cold glance and ignored him.

Victor ordered his bodyguard, "Stop him!"

The bodyguard lunged forward.

Victor stepped closer. "Take off that mask."

Shane’s voice was icy. "Mind your own business."

Victor laughed angrily. "Take it off him!"

The bodyguard reached out.

A sharp crack—his arm dislocated.

Shane shoved the man into Victor. "Get better bodyguards, old man."