He took a long, heavy breath, trying to exhale the suffocating feeling in his chest. Just then, his phone on the console rang—an international number. He picked it up. A low voice came through. "Lucian. The Vance family is sniffing around again over here." The "again" was key. There had already been two previous waves of investigators sent by different members of the Vance family looking into Zora's background. The fact that different factions within the same family were independently investigating the same woman spoke volumes about their internal chaos. And now, a third wave from the Vances? Interesting. Lucian raised an eyebrow, a lazy, predatory smile touching his lips. "And which Vance is it this time?""We got them to talk. Said they were sent by Zane." Lucian propped one arm on the edge of the car window and let out a cold chuckle. "Hah. Guess Zane's got a couple brain cells left. Actually knows to send people abroad to dig. Keep it quiet. Not a word leaks. Just a little more, and the Moss family will be stripped clean." "Yes, Lucian," the voice on the other end replied respectfully. After hanging up, Lucian stared ahead, the contemptuous smirk still playing on his lips, but his eyes now held a sharper, more ruthless glint. Zane. You have no one to blame but your own stupidity. You can't tell glass from a diamond, and you threw the real gem away like trash. A fool like you deserves to be lied to. Deserves to be played. You don't deserve anything good. And you certainly don't deserve happiness. In the rearview mirror, he caught sight of Darcy walking alongside Jethro, a genuine smile on her face. His heart, hard as stone, turned soft for a beat. Whoever she chooses, as long as she's happy, that's what matters. Darcy and Jethro arrived at Alistair's home bearing their gifts, only to find Seren alone. Today, several schools held their graduation ceremonies. Alistair had been invited to give a commencement speech and wasn't back yet. "Oh my, you two are way too polite, bringing gifts again," Seren said with a broad smile, ushering them inside. She poured them glasses of water before immediately calling her husband, her voice booming with cheerful energy. "Hey, old man! Hurry home! Darcy and Jethro are here to see you!" Darcy and Jethro, sitting politely on the sofa, froze. Hanging up, Seren beamed at them. "You two make yourselves comfortable. I'm just running to the market. Tell me what you'd like to eat, and I'll pick it up." Darcy got a bit embarrassed. "Please, Mrs. Reed, don't go to any trouble. We'll eat anything. We're not picky." Seren waved a hand. "I know you're not picky, darling. But this one," she said, nodding fondly at Jethro, "has the palate of a gourmet critic. If he doesn't like something, he'd rather go hungry than take a bite to be polite." Darcy turned a look of utter disbelief on the man beside her. She mentally reviewed their dates—she'd always chosen the restaurants, and she'd never once seen him frown at the menu. Jethro cleared his throat, looking slightly embarrassed. "Aunt Seren, don't give away all my secrets." Laughing, Seren grabbed her shopping bag and wallet and headed out. The living room fell into a comfortable silence, leaving just the two of them. Darcy looked at him seriously. "Did you really like all the food I picked for our dates?""I did," Jethro said, his gaze steady. "Really?" she pressed, tilting her head. "Really," he affirmed with a soft smile, reaching out to ruffle her hair. Then, he wrapped an arm around her waist. "Want a tour? My uncle has an impressive personal library. Might have some books you'd find useful." Darcy's eyes lit up. "Is that okay?" "Of course." He took her hand and led her to the study. Alistair's home was modest and not large—a living room, two bedrooms, and this study. The study, however, took up nearly half the floor space. It was outfitted with high-performance computers and various pieces of advanced equipment, clearly serving as his primary workspace. His dedication to his research was evident. Bookshelves lining the walls were filled with volumes related to his field of study.Darcy's fingers trailed over the spines, her eyes widening as she spotted many cutting-edge texts from abroad. She made a mental note to ask him if she could borrow a few. Her gaze moved from the shelves to the desk, where a framed photo caught her eye. She picked it up without thinking. "Is this... a family photo?" Jethro wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder to look at the photo with her. "Yes. That's my uncle, my mother, and my grandparents." Looking at it now, the resemblance between Alistair and Clara was clear. But then, something else struck her. "Wait," Darcy said, a puzzled frown forming. "How come Prof. Reed and your mother have different last names?" It was a private family matter, but Jethro didn't hesitate to share. "My mother was adopted. She was the orphaned child of one of my grandfather's closest friends. My grandfather didn't want his friend's lineage to end, so he never changed her surname. Even with a different last name, my mother was incredibly close to my grandparents and my uncle. Most people would never guess they aren't biologically related. "When he was younger, my uncle was quite rebellious. He didn't follow the path my grandfather had laid out for him. It caused a rift between them for years. My mother was always the bridge, the peacemaker. She's the reason they never completely fell out."