Sophia sensed the silence on the other end of the line and quickly explained, "That ink lotus painting was bought by a collector for a high price. Mr. Sullivan insisted on giving me half—a million dollars. I couldn't refuse, so I painted him a new one as a gift."

Ethan's deep voice came through the phone. "He invited you to dinner?"

"Yes." Sophia unconsciously twisted the hem of her shirt with her fingers. "If you're busy, I can ask Iris to go with me."

"I'm free." Ethan's tone suddenly lightened.

Sophia's lips curved upward without her realizing it. "Then I'll see you tomorrow."

The next evening at six, Sophia walked arm in arm with Ethan into the legendary private dining establishment. The red-brick villa exuded an old-world charm, with warm yellow light spilling through its carved window lattices.

Kyle Grant was already waiting in the private room. When he saw the two of them enter together, a shadow flickered in his eyes before he stood with a smile. "Mr. Sullivan, I've heard so much about you."

Ethan gave a cool nod, his gaze lingering on the other man's face for a moment.

Once seated, Sophia retrieved a scroll. "Mr. Grant, I hope this meets your expectations."

Kyle slowly unrolled the painting, revealing ink-washed lotus blossoms that seemed to leap off the paper. His fingers lightly traced the rice paper as he murmured, "You've captured both form and spirit. My father will adore it."

Just as Sophia was about to respond politely, she felt the air around her grow heavy. She discreetly reached under the table and grasped Ethan's hand.

Ethan turned his palm and enveloped her slender fingers in his.

Exquisite dishes arrived one after another. Kyle rotated the crystalized bird's nest soup toward Sophia. "Miss Laurent, you must try this."

Ethan's eyes darkened. He signaled a waiter. "This table is on me."

The waiter hesitated. "Mr. Grant has already settled the bill."

"Refund it." Ethan held out a black card between his fingers, his tone brooking no argument.

Sophia hurriedly smoothed things over, tucking the card back into his wallet. She scooped a spoonful of bird's nest and brought it to his lips. "You've been working late—this will help you relax."

Ethan accepted the bite from her hand, his expression softening slightly. Then he ladled a bowl of shark fin soup and fed her in return. "You've been working hard on your paintings. You need nourishment."

Sophia's ears burned. With Kyle present, she had no choice but to obediently take the spoonful.

Kyle watched this silent battle unfold with cold detachment before abruptly standing. "Excuse me for a moment."

Ethan rose as well. "I'll join you for a smoke."

The two men walked one after the other into the smoking lounge. Ethan leaned against the window and lit a cigarette, his sharp gaze cutting through the haze. "Your surname is Grant?"

Kyle toyed with an unlit cigarette, his smile not reaching his eyes. "I'm Kyle Grant, Richard Grant's son."

Silence thickened between them. Ethan suddenly spoke. "You're behind what happened to Isabella."

The cigarette between Kyle's fingers snapped. He looked up, meeting Ethan's stare head-on. "Miss Laurent is your wife. I merely admire her talent."

"Stay away from her." Ethan stubbed out his cigarette, his voice icy.

Back in the private room, Sophia immediately sensed the tension between the two men. She hastily said her goodbyes and pulled Ethan away.

The moment they were in the car, Ethan pinned her against the seat and kissed her fiercely. The kiss was filled with unmistakable possessiveness. Sophia gently wrapped her arms around his waist, indulging his willfulness.

Meanwhile, Kyle stood by the window, watching the car disappear into the distance. His phone rang—his mother's voice came from across the ocean. "You promised not to see any of the Sullivans."

Kyle ran his fingers over the painting in his hands and replied coolly, "I was merely admiring a fine piece of art."