Ethan Sullivan lifted his gaze, a mocking curve playing at the corner of his lips.
"Pottery?" He scoffed, his dark eyes icy.
Sophia Sullivan's fingers trembled slightly, unable to meet the depths of his piercing gaze.
"If you claim to love pottery, yet can't even recognize Miss Sullivan's work," Ethan's voice was frigid, "then there's no point wasting time here. I doubt she wishes to see either of you."
He paused, tapping the glaze lightly with his brush.
"I admire the art of ceramics itself, not the pretentious tea ceremonies that come with it."
Chloe Evans paled, suppressing her fury as she feigned surprise, covering her lips with her hand.
"You must be joking, Mr. Sullivan. How careless of me." She turned to Liam Winston, her voice laced with false hurt. "Liam, you knew about your ex-wife's talent all along. Why didn't you tell me? Now I've embarrassed myself in front of Mr. Sullivan."
Liam's expression darkened like storm clouds.
"There are many things I don't know." His eyes fixed on the delicate porcelain piece, suspicion churning inside him.
This was clearly the work of a master. How could a woman who spent her days in the kitchen possess such skill?
What unsettled him more was the way Sophia and Ethan sat side by side, their silhouettes blending seamlessly in the sunlight.
Of course, she hadn't changed. Freshly divorced and already clinging to power.
Liam abruptly wrapped an arm around Chloe's waist, his tone laced with warning.
"Mr. Sullivan, my father always praised your sharp eye. But even the most careful man can slip."
Ethan ignored him, dipping his brush into the blue glaze as he turned to Sophia.
"Should we thin this section by a third? Don't let the noise distract you. Mr. York is waiting to see the finished piece."
Sophia adjusted the curve of the clay with complete focus, her fingertips tracing the walls.
"This type of clay isn't suitable for hollow carving." She gestured thoughtfully. "We'd need different material for that technique."
Liam's knuckles whitened.
There was a time when this woman's gaze never left him. Now, she wouldn't even spare him a glance.
Chloe winced in pain but didn't dare pull away from his tightening grip.
Under the shifting light of the eaves, the pottery wheel turned slowly, merging their silhouettes into a single, tranquil scene.