Vincent Lowell's face turned ashen.
His eyes were fixed on the paintbrush in Sophia Sullivan's hand.
"Miss Sullivan does have some talent," he said coldly. "But restoring antique paintings isn't child's play. Without Master Macmillan's expertise, this painting will be ruined in your hands!"
Sophia paused her brush.
She lifted her gaze to meet Vincent's.
Vincent's heart skipped a beat under her stare.
Her eyes were too calm.
Unnervingly calm.
But he couldn't back down.
"Mr. Winston!" Vincent turned to Liam Winston. "Master Macmillan is currently in A-City. With your influence, you could certainly invite him!"
Liam pondered for a moment.
"I'll try."
Chloe Evans quickly stepped forward.
"Liam, I have a friend who knows Master Macmillan's assistant. Let me give you the contact details."
She shot a triumphant glance at Sophia.
Sophia simply set down her brush with quiet grace.
"David?" A faint smile touched her lips. "What a coincidence."
She flexed her wrist slightly.
Then seated herself with effortless poise.
Vincent scoffed.
"Putting on airs! As if someone like you could ever reach Master Macmillan's level."
Liam was already dialing.
The first call went unanswered.
The second was hung up as soon as he stated his purpose.
The third line was abruptly switched off.
Liam's expression darkened.
"This master certainly has airs."
Vincent wiped his sweating forehead.
"Great masters are like that... I heard he's currently secluded for teaching..."
Sophia picked up her teacup.
She blew lightly across the steaming surface.
"Having trouble?"
Her voice was soft.
Yet it landed like a slap across their faces.
Liam tightened his grip on the phone.
"Sophia, this isn't the time for pride. This painting means everything to Grandfather."
Chloe immediately chimed in.
"That's right, Sophia. Grandfather has been so kind to you. You wouldn't just watch his painting get destroyed, would you?"
All eyes were on Sophia.
But she turned leisurely to Mr. Winston Sr.
"Do you trust me, Grandfather?"
The elderly man rose with his cane.
"I do!"
He walked to Sophia's side.
"This painting," he declared, "I entrust to Sophia. One more word from anyone, and you're out of this house!"
His voice boomed with authority.
Sophia felt warmth bloom in her chest.
She slowly retrieved her phone.
"Since none of you can reach him..."
Her gaze swept over them.
"I'll do it myself."
Vincent let out a derisive laugh.
"Miss Sullivan, Master Macmillan's number isn't something just anyone can obtain. Even professional restorers like us can't get through—"
His words died abruptly.
Because Sophia's call had connected.
The dial tone rang clear through the room.