The jade pendant was strung on a red cord, exquisitely crafted. Even someone with no eye for antiques could tell at a glance that this piece was incredibly precious—something money alone couldn’t buy.
Yet what truly caught the eye was the cord itself. It wasn’t new; the fibers were worn, frayed in places, carrying the undeniable marks of years spent close against someone’s skin.
That was the real mystery. For a pendant this valuable, to be worn so intimately for so long, it had to mean the world to its owner. And now, it had been given away as a gift—just like that?
As Harrison descended the stairs, Marcus immediately looked up and offered an explanation. “The box slipped and fell. Its contents spilled out, so I couldn’t help but take a peek.”
He grinned, mischief twinkling in his eyes—a charming rogue who always seemed to be asking for trouble. “But you know, the real treasure in this box isn’t the antique pendant—it’s this.”
With a flourish, he plucked a beautifully made note from the box and waved it in front of Harrison’s face.
There were two lines, written in neat script:
**I’ll be waiting for you in Riverton.**
**Looking forward to seeing you.**
It was signed, simply, “Calderon.”
Harrison’s eyes narrowed, his entire expression turning glacial.
“Looks like someone’s after your girl, Harrison!” Mr. Jackson said, practically vibrating with excitement at the drama. “What’s Anastasia been up to out there? How’d she end up saving someone’s life? Whoever this is, they’re making a bold move—offering themselves in gratitude, huh?”
Harrison shot him a look so cold and sharp that Marcus immediately snapped his mouth shut. He cleared his throat, awkwardly rubbed his chin, and shrank back with practiced ease.
Harrison took the note, his gaze icy and severe. For a moment, he nearly crushed it in his hand—but something made him pause. With obvious effort, he forced himself to set the note back into the box.
“Ana’s not home from class yet?” His voice gave nothing away—not anger, not warmth.


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