The blinding beam of a high-intensity flashlight cut through the darkness, illuminating the secret chamber like daylight.

Ethan Sullivan strode ahead with unwavering determination, his tall frame straight as a pine.

The hesitant group behind him found courage in his fearlessness and followed.

Silas Prescott was wheeled into the chamber in his wheelchair.

Squinting, he studied the footprints on the ground. "Mr. Sullivan, stop where the footprints disappear."

Ethan nodded, sweeping the flashlight beam across the floor.

The faint imprints in the loose soil were unmistakable.

Those delicate footprints could only belong to Sophia Laurent.

The scattered marks indicated where the trap mechanism had been triggered.

Stopping a meter from the danger zone, Ethan turned. "Mr. Prescott, it's here."

Silas's wheelchair was pushed closer.

After a moment of inspection, he said gravely, "Look for cracks in the ground. It's a common flip-trap mechanism in ancient tombs."

Fear dissipated among the group.

A dozen flashlights converged, quickly revealing fine seams.

"Use levers to pry it open," Silas commanded.

A team of burly men worked together, forcing the heavy slab ajar.

"Brother! I knew Dad would come for us!" Iris Evans' relieved voice echoed from below.

Ethan's heart clenched, then tightened his lips in disappointment.

A rope ladder was lowered.

Iris climbed up first, followed closely by Shane Prescott.

Moving with simian agility, he vaulted out of the pit in seconds.

"You reckless fool!" Silas roared, slamming his flashlight into Shane's chest.

Iris immediately shielded him. "Dad! It's not his fault!"

Silas's face darkened. "If there'd been spikes in that pit, you'd both be dead!"

Shane remained silent.

Ethan intervened smoothly. "Mr. Prescott, rescuing them takes priority."

Silas's expression softened slightly. He glared at Shane. "Aren't you going to thank Mr. Sullivan?"

Shane gave Ethan a respectful nod.

The second slab was pried open, freeing several bodyguards.

When the third slab loosened, Sophia stood abruptly in the pit. "Mr. Sullivan, we're being rescued!"

Kyle Grant suppressed his disappointment and smiled. "Yes."

The word "we" warmed his heart.

The blinding light made Sophia squint.

As the ladder descended, she turned. "You go first, Mr. Grant."

"Ladies first," Kyle insisted.

Sophia didn't argue further and climbed up.

Kyle stayed below, hands ready to catch her if she fell.

Near the top, a pair of strong hands grasped her wrists.

Assuming it was a bodyguard, Sophia thanked them hastily before turning to check on Kyle.

Only when she saw him emerge safely did she exhale in relief.

Turning to express gratitude, she froze.

The face she'd longed for was inches away.

Ethan's pale features were etched with worry, his lips trembling slightly.

Sophia couldn't believe her eyes.

She rubbed them, confirming it wasn't a hallucination.

"You came?" She threw herself into his arms.

Ethan tightened his embrace, voice rough. "Do you know how worried I was?"

Sophia's nose stung, a thousand words caught in her throat.

All that emerged was a soft rebuke: "Then why did you ignore me?"

"I regret it," he muttered.

She lightly punched his chest. "You're still injured. Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

Ethan held her tighter. "My life is yours. If anything happened to you, what use would it be?"

The group gasped.

No one expected the usually aloof Ethan to utter such heartfelt words.

Natalie Sullivan's eyes glistened.

Iris watched the embracing couple with envy.

The terror of their brush with death faded before this overwhelming display of love.