Sophia had never felt so disheveled in her life.

Her trembling fingers fumbled with the buttons of her blouse. The collar sat crookedly on her shoulder, even the top button fastened wrong.

Ethan lounged against the headboard, watching her with amused detachment.

"You crawled into my bed last night," he murmured, his voice rough with sleep. "Clung to me like a koala—couldn't pry you off."

The tips of her ears burned crimson.

"That's not true!"

"Should I record it next time?" He fastened his cufflinks with deliberate slowness. "So someone can't deny it."

Humiliation made her wish the floor would swallow her whole.

As she turned to adjust her collar, she caught his barely audible sigh.

"I'm visiting the hospital tonight." Ethan's tone turned icy. "Handle Grandmother for me."

Sophia's fingers froze.

She knew exactly who he'd be seeing. The name Isabella Valentine stabbed through her heart like a thorn.

"About the divorce..." Her voice barely rose above a whisper. "I'll talk to Grandmother again."

Ethan paused mid-knot with his tie.

"How considerate of you," he said with pointed ambiguity.

Sophia lowered her gaze.

Who was really the victim here?

Antique Treasures bustled with its usual activity. Twilight had fallen when her driver finally called.

"Madam, I've been in an accident..."

Hanging up, Sophia headed alone for the bus stop. Two strangers materialized from the gathering darkness.

"Miss Laurent?" The sunglasses-wearing man grinned. "We've got a painting needing your expertise."

She took a half-step back.

"You can bring it to the shop—"

"Enough talk!" The bald man seized her wrist. "You're coming with us!"

They shoved her into a black sedan. As they snatched her phone, Sophia acted on instinct.

"Mom, I'm going away with friends for a few days," she said rapidly into the receiver. "Don't forget your diabetes medication—"

Darkness swallowed her vision as the call cut off.

The blindfold's rough fabric chafed her eyelids. After what felt like hours, the car finally stopped.

They'd brought her to a remote three-story building. Inside the safe lay a tattered ancient scroll—Wang Meng's Hermitage Scroll.

"Two weeks." She forced calm into her voice as she assessed the damage. "I'll need special materials."

The thin man left with her list. The sound of the locking door made her flinch.

Barren hills stretched beyond the window. The occasional distant light in the darkness might as well have been another world.

Instant noodles turned to ash in her mouth. Curled on the bed, Sophia suddenly remembered Ethan carrying Isabella out of that restaurant.

An invisible fist squeezed her heart.

Footsteps startled her awake at midnight.

"That little bitch is fire..." The bald man's lewd chuckle seeped through the door. "When this is over, I'm gonna—"

She bit her lip until she tasted blood.

By the third day, the restoration neared completion. Fear coiled around her like a serpent, making every night endless.

On the fourth dawn, barking dogs shattered the silence.

"Move!" The thin man dragged her toward the window.

Chaotic footsteps pounded down the hallway. Sophia looked up—and saw him silhouetted in the blinding flashlight beams.

Ethan.

Armed SWAT officers flanked him.

"Ethan..." Tears spilled down her face.

Cold steel pressed against her throat.

"Back off!" The thin man screamed. "Or I slit her pretty neck!"

Blood trickled down her collarbone. She watched Ethan's eyes turn murderous crimson.

"Lower your weapons!" His roar shook the walls.

The police retreated slowly. The bald man kicked away a fallen gun.

"Jump!"

The thin man yanked her toward the window. Three stories below, the ground yawned like a gaping mouth.

A gunshot cracked the air.

Warm liquid splattered her face as a scream tore through the night.