Richard Grant smoothly pulled out his checkbook and signed with a flourish.

Fourteen million dollars.

Sophia Laurent accepted the check, her fingertips trembling slightly.

Her face remained calm, but inside, a storm raged.

The provenance of the Kangxi Dragon Jar was genuine, as was the strategy of leveraging its history.

Only the claim about "wanting to keep it for her collection" had been an elaborate trap.

Frederick Vanderbilt sipped his tea leisurely. "My dear, this is Kyle's father."

Sophia's fingers froze.

That old fox!

He waited until the money was secured before revealing the truth.

She hastily pushed the check back. "Mr. Grant, I'll sell you the jar at cost."

Richard laughed heartily, tucking the check into her bag. "Once I give money, I never take it back."

His eyes gleamed as he studied the dragon jar. "A genuine Kangxi piece is worth every penny."

Sophia had an idea. "If you're interested in Bada Shanren's paintings, I could—"

"So those two paintings were your work?" Richard's face lit up with surprise. "No wonder the brushwork was so masterful!"

He extended a warm invitation. "How about joining us for dinner at our home the day after tomorrow?"

Sophia agreed with a smile.

Three days later.

Sophia arrived at the Grant residence with gifts.

Midway, she received a call from Kyle. "My father had an urgent matter come up. Let's reschedule."

She frowned.

What emergency could a seventy-year-old retired man possibly have?

This was clearly Kyle's doing.

At the bank counter.

Sophia converted the check into cash.

As she exited, she didn't notice the battered Jeep trailing her.

BANG—

The Jeep screeched to a halt in front of her car.

Two armed robbers jumped out, rifles in hand.

"Hand over the money, Asian!"

A cold gun barrel pressed against Sophia's temple.

Steeling herself, she offered the freshly withdrawn cash.

The robber spat. "Not enough! Go back inside!"

The gun jabbed into her lower back.

Sophia clenched her jaw.

This money had cost her marriage. She wouldn't let thieves take it.

At the ATM.

She pretended to stumble.

As the robber bent down—

CRACK!

A gunshot rang out.

The robber howled and collapsed.

Sophia seized the rifle, hands shaking as she aimed.

"Fuck!" The wounded robber lunged.

Three shots split the air.

The robber dropped.

Back against the wall, Sophia gasped for breath.

Then she looked up—

Ethan Sullivan approached, his black trench coat billowing in the wind.

Her eyes instantly welled with tears.