"Deal."
Sophia Sullivan knew this was nothing but a distant bet.
The secrets she carried would forever remain beyond Ethan Sullivan's reach.
Not even The Decagon could uncover what happened after she dropped out of school.
With the necklace matter settled, she changed the subject. "Emma's misfortune turned into a blessing. Dr. Gallagher said with six more months of treatment, she'll be like any other child. Though after everything she's been through, she might not be as lively as her peers."
Ethan crossed his legs as he settled back on the sofa.
His thin lips pressed together, the faint marks of teeth still visible.
"That's more than enough for me."
He meant it.
There was a time he never imagined Emma would speak at all.
Calloused fingers brushed against her skin as he fastened the necklace around his neck again.
The metal still carried the lingering warmth from Sophia's touch.
Known for his mercurial temper, Ethan had grown even more volatile in recent years due to his neuropathic headaches.
The business circle feared him.
Yet the subtle fragrance clinging to Sophia inexplicably soothed him.
Knowing she wanted to see his grandmother, he offered, "Grandmother's lucid moments grow fewer at the sanatorium. If you wish to inquire about the past, Ian can take you."
He remembered her words.
"I've arranged everything. You may visit anytime."
"My thanks, Mr. Sullivan."
Exhaustion weighed on Sophia. That kiss made Ethan seem like some soul-sucking incubus.
She massaged her temples and sipped her tea.
"I hope Mrs. Sullivan's Alzheimer's improves. Perhaps then we could learn about my mother's whereabouts."
Her tone remained even.
After years of hope turning to despair, she'd learned not to expect too much.
Still, finding someone who might have known her mother after all this time brought a sliver of comfort.
Setting down her cup, she frowned. "Why keep her at a sanatorium instead of home?"
She'd always wondered why an ailing elder would be sent away.
No luxury facility could replace family.
More importantly, given Ethan's paranoid nature, how could he risk it?
Rumors spoke of many who'd tried kidnapping the old woman for ransom.
"Grandmother's situation differs from Emma's. She's..."
Ethan's voice trailed off, his gaze turning icy.
"My father's mother. He insisted on the sanatorium from the start. Whatever he said to her back then—bringing her home makes her hysterical."
Had Ethan not controlled company shares and built an empire, that man would have long installed his illegitimate son as heir.
In Ethan's heart, he no longer had a father.
"Besides, while having her home would be comforting, the sanatorium has better medical resources."
Between corporate demands, he barely had time for Emma.
Specialized care required specialists.
Sophia nodded, not pressing further about the shadows in Ethan's eyes when mentioning his father.
Every family had its burdens.
"I'll do my best for your grandmother."
Ethan gave a noncommittal hum. "I trust you will."
His dark eyes drifted to the window, thoughts unreadable.
Sophia studied him.
Buttoning his cuffs, Ethan exuded an aloof elegance.
Only the bite marks on his lips betrayed his earlier loss of control.
Who would have thought her calling them "business partners" would trigger him so?
Her gaze lingered on his toned physique beneath the dress shirt. "You moved remarkably well during the racing competition—hardly like someone who uses a wheelchair often. Do you regularly indulge in such thrills?"
Her tone made it a statement, not a question.
"Just a hobby. I'm decent, but my brother was the true short track prodigy. I could never match him."
Mentioning his brother softened Ethan's expression, easing the tension.
"Though I never expected you to steal the spotlight, Ms. Sullivan."
Sophia blinked. Was it her imagination, or did "Ms. Sullivan" roll off his tongue with an almost... intimate cadence?
"Had those two racers not interfered, you'd have won. I merely got lucky."
She played modest.
Their verbal sparring revealed little.
The bet had begun in earnest.
Equally matched, neither showed their full hand.
"The victory was yours, fairly earned."
Ethan's lazy smirk held challenge.
Their locked gazes acknowledged the game afoot—a feline hunt, each probing for weaknesses.
How thrilling to finally see each other's true cards.