Adrian's throat was crushed under Ethan's grip, waves of suffocation drowning him.

Ethan's knuckles turned white, veins bulging, his eyes burning with terrifying fury.

"Let...go..." Adrian barely choked out the words as darkness clouded his vision.

He had never seen Ethan like this before.

Those usually cold, indifferent eyes were now bloodshot, like a demon clawing its way from hell.

"Ethan!" Sophia's voice called from behind.

His fingers twitched slightly.

She rushed forward, her soft hand resting on his tense arm. "I made your favorite soup. Let's go home, okay?"

Ethan's breathing gradually steadied.

He released his grip, and Adrian collapsed to the floor, coughing violently as he clutched his throat.

"Leave." The single word dripped with ice.

Adrian's bodyguards hastily pulled him up and fled in panic.

Sophia took Ethan's hand, feeling the lingering tremors in his palm.

"Don't be afraid," she whispered. "I'm here."

Ethan looked down at her, the crimson in his eyes slowly fading.

Inside the car, Sophia pressed her cheek against his neck, breathing in the faint scent of medicinal herbs.

"What did he say this time?" she asked.

After a pause, Ethan replied, "He threatened to make you disappear."

Her heart clenched, but she forced a light laugh. "Just a pathetic clown."

She felt the tension in his muscles gradually ease.

"I'm fine," she murmured in his ear. "Let's go home for soup."

Meanwhile, in Adrian's car...

"Drive faster!" he rasped at the driver.

The rearview mirror reflected the brutal fingerprints around his neck.

"Madman..." he muttered, dialing Victor's number.

"Dad, is Ethan—"

"He's fine," Victor cut him off. "Just on his honeymoon."

Adrian scoffed. "He nearly strangled me."

Silence stretched for several seconds.

"You deserved it," Victor said coldly. "Don't provoke Sophia."

The call ended. Adrian slammed his fist against the seat.

In the hospital room, Old Man Leonard listened to Adrian's account, his cloudy eyes suddenly gleaming.

"Heaven helps us," he croaked with a raspy laugh. "Ethan Sullivan has lost his mind."

Adrian frowned. "Grandfather..."

"Go to the company," Leonard urged eagerly. "This is your best chance."

At Sullivan Group headquarters...

Inside the elevator, Adrian studied the middle-aged man beside him.

The man returned the scrutiny.

Their gazes met briefly before both looked away.

"Mr. Valentine?" Adrian suddenly spoke.

Vincent Valentine raised an eyebrow. "Sharp eyes, Mr. Sullivan."

In the top-floor office, Shane Prescott looked up from his documents at the knock on the door.

"Uncle," he greeted, rising.

Vincent surveyed the room, admiration flashing in his eyes.

"Impressive place," he remarked, running a hand over the rosewood desk.

Shane poured him tea.

"Word is Ethan Sullivan is ill?" Vincent asked abruptly.

Shane's hand stilled. "Who told you that?"

"A guess." Vincent smiled meaningfully. "Your opportunity has arrived."

Shane set the teapot down, his gaze sharp. "I don't need that kind of opportunity."

"Foolish boy!" Vincent hissed. "This is—"

"Uncle," Shane interrupted. "My ambitions lie elsewhere."

Vincent studied him for a long moment before chuckling.

"You'll change your mind," he said confidently. "No one resists temptation like this."

Shane turned to the window without responding.

Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling glass, casting his elongated shadow across the room.