Obsession

Sleepless Nights

"Just a toy for my amusement. If she breaks, I’ll simply find another..."

The sea breeze swept across the deck, chasing away the sweltering, golden heat of the Hong Kong summer.

In the bustling harbor, the cruise liner loomed like a massive floating fortress. It cut silently through the waves, gliding past the Lantau Channel toward Victoria Harbour. In the distance, the twilight mist drifted across a darkening sky, and thin clouds—pale as polished jade—slowly dissolved into the encroaching shadows of the night.

When Sienna Vane woke, the last rays of the setting sun were bleeding into her vision.

She raised a hand to rub her temples, pausing when she felt a thin film of cold sweat. It had been like this ever since she left the southern provinces; sleep was a luxury she could no longer afford.

On the round table beside her, ice cubes were melting into a glass of neat whiskey. Her laptop screen glowed, still frozen on the emails she had been scanning before drifting off—dozens of candid, grainy surveillance photos interspersed with the latest financial headlines. The scandal involving the top brass at Hengrong Corp had already ignited, spreading like wildfire across social media.

Sienna took a slow sip of the whiskey. The sharp, burning sting jolted her senses awake. With a flick of her finger, she wiped the emails from her drive.

Buzz.

Her phone vibrated on the table, the screen lighting up with a notification.

[Have you arrived?]

Sienna glanced at the time, then lazily pushed herself up from the deck chair. She waved over a passing steward. "Why haven't we docked yet?"

It was 5:53 PM. By all accounts, the ship should have been heading back to port.

"I am so sorry, Miss," the steward explained, his voice laced with practiced caution. "There was a minor complication during the security sweep. The central monitoring station is conducting a manual check, so our return has been delayed. We apologize for the inconvenience. All your expenses for the remainder of the trip will be waived, and we will do our best to compensate you for the delay. We hope for your understanding."

Sienna frowned slightly but didn't press the man. She looked down and typed a brief reply.

[Minor delay. I’ll be a little late.]

Tonight was the grand opening of the Sotheby’s Spring Auction, featuring the legendary Tisiphone 1974 vintage jewelry collection.

For the past two weeks, both Sotheby’s and the executive board at Eros International had been hounding Sienna with invitations. It all started with a chance encounter at the opera, where Simon—the lead designer for Eros—had been so inspired by her that he’d designed a spiritual successor to the '74 collection specifically for her. Simon was the fashion world’s "Golden Boy," as famous for his erratic temper and biting wit as he was for his genius. The news that he had found a muse in a mysterious Eastern socialite over a glass of wine and a traditional aria had sent shockwaves through the industry.

The media was dying to see the woman who had tamed the "enfant terrible" of fashion. Sienna didn't care for the spotlight, but she had a weakness for antiquities, and tonight’s catalog included two masterpieces by the late Grandmaster Zhong that she was determined to see. She had planned to slip in quietly as a friend's "assistant."

But the cruise ship’s delay was throwing a wrench in her plans.

Sienna gathered her shawl and began walking back toward her suite, calculating how she might make up the time, when she nearly collided with someone.

The face was familiar.

A loud, rowdy group was approaching from the opposite direction. At the center was a young man blowing a smoke ring and casually flicking a gold lighter. When his eyes landed on her, he froze. He muttered something to his entourage, then waved her over with a grin.

"Well, well. Fancy seeing you here, darling."

He ditched his crowd and sauntered over. "What brings a girl like you to a place like this?"

Sienna narrowed her eyes, searching her memory. She’d seen him once at a gala in the capital—one of those trust-fund "Princes" who had more money than sense. They weren't even on nodding terms.

"Just enjoying the view," she said, her tone clipped.

"The view is great," Jaxson Miller replied, seemingly oblivious to her cold shoulder. He tapped the ash from his cigarette. "But it's a bit lonely to look at it by yourself, isn't it?"

He looked her up and down. "Since we’re stuck here for a while anyway, why don’t you come join us in the lounge?"

Sienna tightened her lips, subtly stepping back to put distance between them. "No, thank you." She glanced at the woman clinging to his arm, whose glaring eyes looked ready to skin Sienna alive. "Your friends are waiting, Mr. Miller. I wouldn't want to intrude."

Someone in the background let out a low, off-key whistle, their eyes glued to Sienna’s silhouette. Jaxson shot them a warning look that silenced the group instantly. Sienna was surprised; she knew he was a playboy, but she hadn't expected him to have that much authority.

"Don't get the wrong idea," Jaxson said, his eyes darting as he pivoted. "Look, I’m not hitting on you. I picked up a few pieces yesterday and was going to have an expert look them over. But having you here is even better. I'll pay you double the market rate for a quick appraisal."

He added, "It won't take long. Do me a favor?"

At this point, saying no would have felt needlessly dramatic.

Sienna hated playing nice with these types, but she kept her mask on. "The money isn't necessary. Are the pieces here?"

"Right this way." Jaxson signaled to his assistant and stepped aside to lead the way, his demeanor notably more respectful. "I can't let you work for free. Just name your price."

The security on the ship was top-tier. The antiques were housed behind reinforced glass, guarded by 24-hour private security and equipped with high-end diagnostic tools.

At a glance, there were several porcelain vases and enamel pieces, but the centerpiece was a Tang Dynasty warhorse—a piece that radiated a silent, ancient power. Its form was perfect, its glaze as smooth as silk.

Tang Sancai.

The Qing Dynasty vases were obvious originals; she didn't need to waste time on them. The horse, however, was the real test. Sienna pulled on a pair of gloves, running her fingers along the horse’s flank. She tapped it lightly, then held a light to a small pore in the clay, revealing irregular marks along the spine. She stood up and adjusted the microscope to examine the body and the glaze.

After two minutes, she stepped back.

"Where did you get this?" Sienna asked casually.

"An antique house in the city. They claimed it was a fresh 'sea-find'—cost me a cool three million," Jaxson said, holding up three fingers. "My old man loves this stuff, and I’ve seen enough of it to know what to look for. The crackle pattern looked right, so I pulled the trigger."

Sienna paused, then pulled off her gloves. "Tell your people to pack it up. I’m not the one to look at this."

"Come on now," Jaxson said, missing the subtext. "You’re the protégé of the Great Master Chen. If you can’t see the value in it, who can?"

He wasn't exaggerating. Sienna’s reputation in restoration and appraisal was formidable. She had started as a hobbyist under Chen, but her natural talent had quickly made her a legend in the field. In the world of high-stakes antiquities, her word was practically law.

"The craftsmanship is excellent," Sienna explained with practiced patience. "The clay is fine, the glaze is tight and thin, and it has a beautiful iridescent sheen. The proportions are perfect. From the color to the mold, it’s a masterpiece."

"So it's real—"

"It’s a masterpiece," she repeated. "But it isn't old."

Jaxson froze. His face fell. "A fake?" He looked desperate. "Wait, are you sure? The glaze, the form... it looks identical to the museum pieces."

"The artisan was incredibly skilled; the aging process is almost undetectable," Sienna said, taking a specialized flashlight and tapping the horse's body. "However, the body is too dry, and under this light, you can see tiny black specks—unmelted mineral particles that only appear with modern firing techniques. Furthermore, on a true antique, the edges of the 'crackle' lift slightly over centuries. These are flat. It’s a modern piece that was buried for a few decades to simulate age."

She tossed the flashlight to his assistant. "If you don't believe me, take it to a lab. They'll tell you the same thing."

There was no need for a lab. In this circle, her word was the final verdict.

Jaxson’s expression turned sour, like he’d swallowed a lemon. "Unbelievable. Those bastards actually tried to play me?"

In the antique world, fakes this good could fool even the most seasoned collectors. It was a "wolf in sheep's clothing" scenario. But Sienna didn't care about his lost millions.

"Now that we're done, I'll take my leave."

She turned to go, but her path was blocked.

Two private security guards moved with synchronized precision, their large frames forming a human wall. They remained silent, their stony expressions making it clear: no one was leaving this room.

Sienna arched a perfectly groomed eyebrow. She turned back to Jaxson, a cold, mocking smile playing on her lips. "What is the meaning of this?"

"It’s nothing personal," Jaxson said, standing up and eyeing her with newfound intensity. "But someone wants to see you."

He gestured toward a plush armchair. "Be a good girl and sit down for a while, okay?"

In a private club several miles away, the sound of flesh hitting flesh echoed around an underground boxing ring.

Sebastian Thorne traded blows with a professional heavy-weight. With a sudden, explosive burst of movement, their bodies collided, the force shaking the very pillars of the ring. Sweat matted Sebastian’s dark hair, his muscles coiled with a lethal, restless energy.

His head assistant stood by the ropes, waiting for the round to end before stepping forward.

Sebastian looked up, his eyes cold and dark. The air around him felt heavy, suffocating.

"The acquisition plan for the Hongxuan merger is ready," the assistant said, bowing his head as he offered a leather-bound folder. "The consultants have finished the risk assessment, and Mr. Xu is waiting for your signature. Everything in the South is proceeding as planned; no PR firm is brave enough to touch the Hengrong scandal. However, your uncle is demanding a meeting. Even the Chairman is asking questions. Your uncle’s involvement in the southern business might be..."

"Tell the Chairman I’m busy," Sebastian cut him off, his voice flat and impatient. He began unwrapping the tape from his knuckles. "And before the Hengrong story loses steam, find a way to make their CEO talk. I want names."

The assistant nodded.

Nearby, a group of Sebastian's associates were lounging with their dates—young university students with heavy perfume and perfectly applied makeup. One of the men raised an eyebrow. "He’s your flesh and blood, Sebastian. You’re really going to go to war with your own family over this?"

Sebastian’s lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smile. "If he’s in my way, I’ll personally escort him to a prison cell."

The assistant lingered, looking hesitant. After a silent prompt from Sebastian, he lowered his voice. "Miss Vane is nearby. Would you like to go to her?"

Sebastian’s gaze darkened. He didn't answer.

One of his friends, oblivious to the shift in mood, reached out to flick a finger against a birdcage sitting on the side table. "Since when did you start keeping pets?"

Inside the cage sat a stunning, sapphire-blue bird. Its feathers were iridescent, its beak tipped with a faint, golden hue.

Sebastian remained silent, swirling the amber liquid in his glass.

After a moment of silence, the friend offered a casual warning. "This breed is notoriously delicate. Creatures that are born wild don't take well to being caged. Keep her locked up like this for another two days, and she’ll probably die on you."

The comment was pointed, layered with subtext.

Sebastian didn't even look up. He mindfully adjusted the dark prayer beads around his wrist, a lethal, jagged smile touching his lips.

"She’s just a toy for my amusement," he said softly. "If she breaks, I’ll simply find another."