Seven days later.

At the headquarters of Grant Auction House.

Kyle Grant stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, his knuckles tapping lightly on his phone screen. "Shane, I need your expertise on a significant bronze artifact."

Shane Prescott's deep voice came through the line. "Location."

"Come in disguise," Kyle added. "It's too large to transport."

Shane ended the call and closed his copy of The Guide to Bronze Authentication. The edges of the pages were yellowed and curled, evidence of countless readings.

As he stood, the contours of his muscles shifted beneath his casual attire. His injured arm was still in a cast, forcing him to wear a short-sleeved gray-green T-shirt under the black leather jacket Audrey Sullivan had given him.

A baseball cap pulled low and a face mask concealed his features. Yet his imposing stature still drew glances.

His assistant waited downstairs. "Mr. Prescott, the young CEO insisted on ensuring your safe escort."

Shane nodded and slid into the car with his long strides.

The conference room was tense.

Six experts argued heatedly over an ornate bronze vessel. The intricate phoenix and beast motifs gleamed ominously under the lights, the ring handles exuding an intimidating aura.

Shane's fingers traced the patterns on the surface, then suddenly stilled.

"Fake."

The room erupted in disbelief.

A white-haired expert slammed the table. "Nonsense! X-ray and carbon-14 dating confirmed this as a genuine Ming dynasty piece!"

Without responding, Shane turned to Kyle. "Boiling water."

As scalding water cascaded over the vessel, flakes of artificial patina peeled away like snakeskin.

Silence fell.

The owner of the bronze turned ashen. The experts were rendered speechless.

A glint of admiration flashed in Kyle's eyes. "Good thing we had you."

Night had fallen.

Kyle slid an ID card across the coffee table. "New identity. Except for your name, your past no longer exists."

Shane rubbed the document between his fingers, then heard Kyle's unexpected suggestion. "How about plastic surgery?"

"Hmm?"

"Lower the bridge of your nose. Make your eyes smaller." Kyle gestured vaguely. "For safety."

Shane scoffed. "Wasting the genes my mother gave me."

The aroma of braised ribs and egg drop soup with scallions drifted from the kitchen.

Kyle picked up a rib, eyebrows lifting in surprise. "You can cook one-handed?"

"Had to learn." Shane ladled soup with steady hands. "Adoptive father gambled. Adoptive mother ran off. No food unless I made it."

The casual remark tightened Kyle's throat.

Amid the hum of the dishwasher, Kyle suddenly proposed, "Let's go to Moon Bay."

"Reason?"

"Sophia's being discharged." Kyle adjusted his cufflinks. "And we can deliver their wedding gift."

When the trunk opened, Shane inhaled sharply. Baby clothes were sorted by gender, and gift boxes of supplements formed a small mountain.

"Didn't know if it's a boy or girl," Kyle muttered, the tips of his ears reddening. "So I got both."

Shane let out a knowing "Oh."

"You've gotten cheeky." Kyle shook his head, though his eyes held amusement.

Sophia greeted them at the door, her complexion still pale. Seeing the carload of gifts, her eyes glistened. "This is too much."

"Wedding gift." Kyle's tone was even. "Only happens once."

Before the words fully settled, Shane suddenly lunged forward!

A silver flash. A distant scream.