David Macmillan scrolled through his contacts with lowered eyes.
He quickly dialed a number.
A hearty laugh came through the phone after it connected.
"Master Macmillan, what brings you to call me today?"
David had no patience for small talk.
He cut straight to the point.
"Your subordinate, Vincent Lowell, is trying to breach the contract."
He summarized the situation in a few sharp sentences.
Then he tapped the speakerphone button.
"Vincent is right here."
Vincent's face stiffened.
Only then did he remember how small the restoration community was.
His boss and David were old acquaintances.
"Sir, let me explain—"
Panic flashed across Vincent's face.
Before he could finish, a furious roar exploded from the phone.
"Shut up! How dare you even try to justify yourself?"
The middle-aged man's voice was deafening.
"Since you think you're so capable, don’t bother coming back to the studio!"
His words came rapid-fire, like bullets.
"Messing up and refusing to own it, yet still wanting all the benefits? Do you think people are fools? What makes you so special? You're fired—get lost!"
...
David ended the call without hesitation.
Vincent turned ghostly pale at the word "fired."
This couldn’t be happening.
He was about to be promoted and transferred to the capital.
His future had been bright.
He was on the verge of being called "Master" himself.
Now it was all over.
Vincent snapped back to reality.
Dignity forgotten, he dropped to his knees before Sophia Sullivan.
"I'm sorry! I was wrong! Please, have mercy!"
His eyes were bloodshot, his voice hoarse.
But it was too late.
David had already hung up.
"Apologizing now? Pathetic."
Vincent fumbled for his phone.
He tried calling his boss to beg.
But the number was blocked.
The work group chat had been disbanded.
Team members were already receiving notifications to withdraw.
"How did this happen...?"
Vincent collapsed to the ground, unable to stand.
"Enough."
Sophia watched coldly.
She stepped forward and crouched to meet his gaze.
"You treated restoration work as a stepping stone."
"But forgot that a true restorer must be pure of heart."
Her eyes were blades.
"Did you ever deserve that position?"
Vincent's defenses shattered completely.
He wanted to salvage his career, but there was no way back.
Sophia turned to bid farewell to Mr. Winston Sr.
"Grandpa Winston, the painting is restored. I’ll take my leave now."
The old man hurried to stop her.
"Stay for dinner, child! The kitchen has already prepared everything!"
Sophia had no desire to linger.
She was searching for a polite excuse when Ethan Sullivan spoke up.
"It's getting late. I’ll escort Ms. Sullivan back to handle company matters."
Their eyes met in silent understanding.
Sophia smoothly continued.
"Next time, Grandpa. I’ll visit again soon."
After Sophia left, David and the others departed as well.
The estate fell into sudden silence.
Liam Winston chased after them outside.
"Sophia!"
The night breeze carried the scent of grass and trees.
But his heart was anything but calm.
Watching Sophia walk away beside Ethan, his chest tightened with suffocating frustration.
"Yes?" Sophia frowned.
Ethan paused, casting him a cool glance.
"Mr. Winston, surely you’re not planning to harass Ms. Sullivan?"
His voice was calm, yet carried undeniable pressure.
Liam instinctively took half a step back.