Briony was caught off guard when an unexpected email from her advisor popped up in her inbox that afternoon. Surprise washed over her-followed by something warmer, almost like hope.

She'd honestly thought Professor Winslow had given up on her long ago.

Staring at the attached photo, Briony gathered her nerve and dialed his number.

The phone rang three times before someone picked up.

Clutching her phone tightly, Briony's voice came out thin and anxious. "Professor...?"

"Professor Winslow is meeting with an important guest right now," a man's voice replied.

Briony hesitated, thrown off. "..."

"You're Briony, right?" The man sounded smug—almost mocking. "You saw the photo of the porcelain Christ figurine?"

She had no idea who this was, but if he was answering the professor's phone, he had to be someone Winslow trusted.

"I saw it," she answered calmly. "And you are?"

"James Delaney," he introduced himself, his tone full of self-importance. "Currently Professor Winslow's most promising student."

Briony blinked, feeling a flicker of irritation.

So that's how it is.

National Archaeological Society recently uncovered a late medieval tomb. Most of the artifacts found so far are badly damaged, and they're

listened, silent as he went

but I'm the one who's shown real drive. So before he decides, he wants to see your current level of

on quickly. "So the porcelain Christ in

refuse.

replied, her voice steady. "Send the piece

extremely valuable, so I'll have to bring it myself. And Professor Winslow instructed me

said, "Add me on WhatsApp, and I'll send

give your number to a stranger? Aren't you

unsettled by his flirty tone-despite how smooth his voice was. She

few minutes later,

had already sent a

saved his name, and sent over the detailed address of

replied with

[When will you

James: [Eager, aren't you?]

need to

kept typing. For nearly

there the day

me know when you're

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