Lara noticed the subtle shift in Liam’s expression. His eyes instinctively moved toward the sealed cases containing the relics before briefly scanning the room itself, as though calculating possible threats even inside Ares’ heavily guarded mansion.
The sight stirred sothing warm inside her chest.
He was worried about her.
Not the treasure.
Her.
"You’re overthinking again, Brother," Lara teased lightly. "But... thank you for worrying about my safety."
The word made Liam freeze for half a second.
Brother.
It sounded like a beautiful symphony to his ears.
A faint blush crept across his cheeks. He cleared his throat awkwardly and looked away from her, suddenly finding the far wall very interesting.
Logan caught the reaction imdiately and had to bite back a grin. Liam always beca painfully awkward whenever soone praised him—especially when it ca from soone whose attention he secretly craved.
anwhile, Ares’ eyes darkened almost imperceptibly.
He had noticed it.
The way Liam and Logan hovered around Lara now was different from before. They were more attentive, more openly protective—almost doting. And whenever their eyes settled on her, there was a quiet indulgence in their gaze, as though simply watching her brought them amusent.
Yet Lara remained completely oblivious to the effect she had on the room.
Liam cleared his throat awkwardly before looking away. "I’m being cautious."
"You’re being paranoid," Logan corrected lazily.
"That’s why we’re still alive."
Logan could not even argue against that.
A small smile tugged at Lara’s lips as she watched the brothers bicker.
For a brief mont, the atmosphere felt strangely peaceful.
Normal.
Like this was what family was supposed to feel like.
And for people like Ares, Liam and Logan—n who had spent most of their lives surrounded by betrayal, bloodshed, and power struggles—
that feeling was far more dangerous than the treasure itself.
...
Lara, even if she was tired, she did not go to sleep as Ares suggested.
She was pacing in the oppressive silence of the Ares’s study, her thoughts circling the treasure like restless waves. The gold bars alone were already a problem. Selling them to the Central Bank was far more complicated than she had casually implied earlier. Large quantities of gold invited scrutiny, paperwork, questions. Questions she could not afford to answer.
And the jewelry was even worse.
Auction houses demanded provenance. History. Docuntation. How was she supposed to explain the existence of centuries-old treasures that had no legal record of ownership? One careless move could attract collectors, authorities... or far more dangerous people.
With a quiet sigh, Lara sat on the couch. She hadn’t stayed their for a minute when she pushed herself upright and crossed the well lit room.
The tal box sat silently beneath the chandelier, cold and imposing like a sealed relic pulled from the depths of history. She crouched beside it, fingers brushing across the weathered surface. The tal container itself was only the first layer of protection.
Inside rested an oak chest darkened with age, its surface preserved beneath a thick coating of hardened resin. Another layer of blackened bitun wrapped around it, sealing the treasure away from moisture, decay, and ti itself. Whoever had hidden this fortune had intended for it to survive centuries.
Lara slowly lifted the lid.
For a mont, the room seed to glow.
Gold spilled before her eyes in dazzling brilliance. Diamonds caught the chandelier light and fractured it into countless shimring sparks, while polished jade glead with a rich, almost ethereal luster. Necklaces, rings, tiaras, and ornate ornants lay nestled together like royal offerings presented before a monarch.
The treasures reflected waves of warm golden light across the room, transforming the shadows into sothing softer, almost dreamlike.
Beautiful.
Dangerous.
And valuable enough to ruin lives.
"Ares," Logan suddenly said, breaking the heavy silence in the room. "You’re absurdly rich anyway, so why not just buy everything from Lara?"
He lounged carelessly across the sofa as he spoke, completely at ease despite the tension surrounding the treasure. His tall fra was far too long for the furniture; his sneaker-clad feet hung over the armrest while one arm rested behind his head lazily.
"If it’s you," Logan continued with a shrug, "nobody’s going to question it. You can just say it’s part of your inheritance or so old family collection."
Ares’ gaze shifted toward him.
For a brief mont, his dark eyes lingered on Logan’s relaxed figure, thoughtful and unreadable.
Because the ridiculous part was—
Logan actually made sense.
The problem that had kept Lara awake for hours suddenly seed almost laughably simple when viewed from Ares’ position. Wealth erased suspicion. n like Ares did not need to explain where rare treasures ca from. Society simply accepted that powerful families possessed things ordinary people could never touch.
Lara’s eyes widened slightly as realization dawned on her.
"Logan, that’s absolutely a great idea!" she exclaid, her voice brightening for the first ti that night.
Logan imdiately broke into a smug grin, clearly pleased with himself for coming up with the solution.
Beside him, Liam looked as though he wanted to object. His brows furrowed slightly, lips parting for a mont before pressing together again. In the end, he stayed silent, though the conflicted look in his eyes remained.
Then Lara turned toward Ares.
The room seed to quiet the mont their gazes t.
Ares was already looking at her, his dark eyes calm and unwavering—as though he had been waiting for her to ask.
"Ares," Lara said softly, her voice carrying an almost effortless gentleness, "could you help with this?"
She rested one hand lightly against the edge of the chest filled with gold and jewels, its warm glow reflecting faintly in her eyes.
"I need funds quickly, and I don’t have the luxury of worrying about legal procedures right now." Her lips curved into a faint, helpless smile. "But you... you can handle this without all the complications."
For a second, silence lingered.
Then Ares smiled.
It was subtle—just the slight upward curve of his lips—but on soone like him, it was startling enough to change the atmosphere of the entire room.
Liam, who had been slouched lazily in the chair beside Logan, suddenly sat upright so fast the cushions shifted beneath him.
His eyes widened.
He blinked once. Twice, then three tis.
But no matter how many tis he looked, the result remained the sa.
Ares was actually smiling.
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