The words "Mr. Sullivan" drifted into Sophia's ears, making her wonder if she was hallucinating.

The man who had left at dawn couldn't possibly be standing here in the dead of night.

She turned hesitantly.

A tall figure gradually emerged from the darkness.

Moonlight cascaded over him like water, casting a cold, ethereal glow.

His chiseled features looked especially stern under the pale light, exhaustion etched between his brows.

Sophia froze.

It was really Ethan.

He approached step by step, the scent of travel still clinging to him.

She stood rooted to the spot until a bodyguard spoke up. "Madam, Mr. Sullivan is here."

Only then did she snap out of her daze, her pulse quickening. "What are you doing here?"

Ethan stared at her in silence.

His deep eyes churned with unreadable emotions.

A pang of guilt struck Sophia. "I couldn't sleep. I heard a flute and went for a walk."

The music stopped abruptly.

The flutist turned around.

The moment Ethan recognized that face, the air around him turned icy.

He let out a cold laugh. "My apologies for interrupting."

Without another word, he turned to leave.

Sophia hurried after him. "You've got it all wrong!"

Ethan ignored her, his strides growing faster.

He had flown thousands of miles overnight, only to find her sharing a moonlit moment with another man.

His chest tightened as if a stone had lodged itself there.

Sophia broke into a run, not watching her step.

"Ah!"

She fell hard, her knee striking a rock. A sharp gasp escaped her lips.

Ethan halted.

He glanced back to find her sitting on the ground, wincing in pain.

In an instant, he was by her side, crouching to examine the injury.

"Why aren't you more careful?" His voice held reproach, but his touch was gentle.

"You're the one who stormed off." Her eyes reddened, the tip of her nose turning pink.

Ethan exhaled, his anger dissipating at the sight of her.

He was utterly defeated by this woman.

"You provoked me first," he muttered.

Sophia rushed to explain. "I didn't know it was Kyle. I really just—"

Before she could finish, she caught sight of Kyle approaching from the corner of her eye.

Ethan's expression darkened. He scooped her up into his arms.

"We'll talk inside."

He strode away as if fleeing a predator.

Kyle stood motionless, watching their retreating figures with an inscrutable gaze.

He raised the flute to his lips again, its mournful melody echoing through the night.

Only when Kyle was out of sight did Ethan slow his pace.

"Does it still hurt?"

Sophia shook her head. "Put me down."

"We're almost there."

Resting her head against his shoulder, she murmured, "I went for a walk because I couldn't sleep. I only approached because of the music. If I'd known it was him, I wouldn't have gone."

Ethan remained silent.

She reached up to touch his weary face. "You're exhausted from traveling back and forth like this."

His lips pressed into a thin line.

A thought flickered through his mind: Thank God I came.

If Kyle had revealed he was actually Vincent...

Ethan didn't dare dwell on it.

Back in their room, he carefully inspected her injury.

Her knee was swollen but thankfully unbroken.

He fetched an ice pack, then brought warm water to clean her face and hands.

"Stop fussing. Get some rest." Sophia ached at the thought of his long journey.

After showering, Ethan pulled her into his arms.

She leaned in to kiss him, her fingers tracing the contours of his abdomen.

He caught her hand. "Not tonight."

Sophia blinked. "You flew all this way just to—"

"You think I'd travel thousands of miles for that?" He pinched her nose. "Is that really all you think of me?"

His voice carried a hint of wounded pride.