One year later, my solo jewelry exhibition opened in a small, historic art museum in Oriva.
The theme was "New Life."
There were only twelve pieces in the collection.
A necklace that fused rough raw stone with cold industrial metal.
A brooch shaped like waves crashing against jagged cliffs.
Earrings that glowed faintly in the dark, like phosphorescence trapped in glass.
Each piece carried a strange balance of contrast and harmony, violent, yet beautiful.
Ethan stood in a corner of the gallery in a tailored dark gray suit.
He didn't speak much, but his presence filled the space.
Visitors, critics, collectors, all of them would instinctively glance at him.
Officially, Ethan was my business partner and head of security. But anyone could tell what he was really guarding.
My uncle, H
