The Valentine mansion.

Isabella Valentine curled up on the leather sofa, her eyes glued to the television screen.

Sophia Laurent's ethereal face appeared on camera, speaking with effortless grace in every gesture.

Her fists clenched, nails digging into her palms.

Click.

Victoria Windsor turned off the TV and slammed a fruit tray onto the coffee table.

"Why torture yourself? The more you watch, the angrier you get!"

Isabella hurled a cushion to the floor. "How dare she? A nobody from the countryside gets airtime?"

Victoria smirked. "Getting on TV is easy. Have your father buy ad space—you can appear as often as you like."

"That's not the same!" Isabella hissed through gritted teeth. "I want her ruined!"

She grabbed the remote, rewinding to a specific segment.

"Look, Mom. This Auspicious Cranes painting—she claims she did it at fifteen, but there's no signature."

Victoria narrowed her eyes. "You're thinking..."

"We accuse her of forgery!" Isabella's gaze gleamed with malice. "Dead men tell no tales."

Victoria perked up. "How much?"

"Fifty thousand buys three days of trending hashtags." She flicked her cast-bound arm. "Let her taste public humiliation."

That evening, social media exploded.

#RestorationProdigyExposed

#DailyAppraisalScripted

#SophiaLaurentForgeryProof

Accompanying the posts were screenshots and "insider leaks."

When Iris Evans called, Sophia was replicating Thousand Miles Scroll.

"Sophia! You're trending!"

Her brush paused mid-stroke. "For what?"

After hearing the details, she set down her brush with quiet precision.

Dusk painted the windows as lamplight sculpted her composed profile.

Ethan Sullivan arrived to this very scene.

"Are you okay?" Rare tension threaded his voice.

She turned, lips curving. "Saved us publicity costs."

His brow arched.

"The bigger the scandal now, the greater the payoff when truth wins." Her eyes held quiet brilliance. "The show will invite me back."

Ethan chuckled. "Cool as ever."

"Tit for tat."

Deep into the night, Sophia stirred awake to weight dipping the mattress.

Blinking sleepily, she met amused eyes.

"Ethan!" She hissed. "Rules!"

Unrepentant, he pulled her closer. "Nightmare prevention."

"I was sleeping fine!"

"Then I had one." His arms tightened. "Need my girlfriend's comfort."

She scoffed. "We're divorced!"

"Ex-wives count." He buried his face in her hair. "Especially when you're currently my girlfriend."

Three days later, the Daily Appraisal producer called right on schedule.

"Ms. Laurent, we'd like you for a special episode."

Watching golden sunlight through the window, she murmured, "Of course."

Hanging up, she traced her phone's edge.

The game had only just begun.