Kyle Grant's gaze lingered on Audrey Sullivan, dark currents swirling in his eyes.

He suppressed the rising tide of hatred with practiced composure.

The scars from that fire still ached faintly beneath his skin.

"Let's go," he said to Sophia, his voice unnervingly calm.

"Sophia." Ethan Sullivan's commanding voice cut through the air behind them.

Sophia paused mid-step, offering Kyle an apologetic smile. "You go ahead."

Kyle gave Ethan a meaningful look before turning away, the briefcase firm in his grip.

Audrey observed the exchange with a faint, knowing curve of her lips.

"Would you like to visit my office?" she asked Sophia.

Sophia blinked in surprise. "You have an office here?"

"I own this restaurant." Audrey pressed the elevator button. "There are things we should discuss."

Once inside the office, Audrey waited until Sophia stepped out before cutting to the chase. "Who is Kyle Grant?"

Ethan took a sip of coffee. "An American-born Chinese. The heir to the Grant family in California."

"His mother?"

"Willow Grant."

Audrey's fingers twitched, her cup clinking sharply against the saucer.

"No," she said sharply. "It should be Liu Lu."

Ethan's brow furrowed.

"Over twenty years ago," Audrey inhaled deeply, "your father had an affair with a waitress named Liu Lu after drinking too much. They had a child. Later, that child..."

She froze, her face draining of color.

Ethan's cup slammed onto the table.

"So," his voice turned glacial, "Kyle is my half-brother?"

Audrey's smile was bitter. "The irony is, Sophia married you because your eyes reminded her of him."

Ethan's jaw tightened.

"Let her go," Audrey sighed. "These three years haven't been easy for her. She endured your temper at first, then your father's and Isabella's schemes."

"Impossible." Ethan's voice was hoarse.

"This isn't love. It's resentment." Audrey pierced through his defenses. "True love means letting go."

Ethan turned away, his Adam's apple bobbing violently.

When Sophia returned, the tension in the room was palpable.

Audrey suddenly embraced her. "No matter what happens, you'll always be my daughter."

Sophia's heart clenched.

In the car ride home, Ethan spoke abruptly. "My mother wants me to set you free."

Sophia's fingers twisted together unconsciously.

"I already made things clear with him on set," she whispered. "Yesterday was his birthday. Today was just to deliver the flute—"

"Twelve years. Twelve flutes." Ethan cut her off. "I know."

Silence stretched between them.

"I married you three years ago," Sophia finally said, her eyes reddening, "because your eyes reminded me of him. I thought... if I kept looking at them, it would be like he never left."

Ethan's heart constricted as if gripped by an invisible fist.

He pulled her into his arms, thumb brushing away her tears.

"It's not your fault," he murmured, softer than she'd ever heard him. "Fate played a cruel joke on us."

Yet the coldness in his chest refused to thaw.