The image Ethan Blake had painted flashed in Benjamin Winters’ mind. If that really happened, he would have no face left in Crown City’s antique collector circles.
Benjamin hurriedly examined the porcelain cup in his hand again, unease creeping into his expression.
Just then, the door opened and a waiter stepped inside. At that same moment, a man walking past glanced into the room.
The man’s eyes lit up instantly. “Mr. Blake!” he exclaimed, striding in with another gentleman following behind.
All eyes in the private room turned toward the door. Here, there was only one man called Blake—but who would possibly address the Winters’ live-in son-in-law so respectfully?
Ethan rose to his feet with a calm smile. “Mr. Collins, what a coincidence. You’re dining here too?”
“Collins? Who’s that
