Grace’s smile gradually stiffened as her gaze shifted between the Baccarat crystal vase Julian gifted her and the one Lucas Carter had just presented. Her expression grew increasingly serious because Lucas had gifted the exact same vase.

“How is this possible? They both gave the same thing? An antique like this is already incredibly rare—how could there be two?”

“I’ve heard of this vase before. There was only one ever recorded, right? It was auctioned off years ago to a mysterious buyer for an astronomical price. It’s supposed to be one of a kind!”

“Which means one of these has to be a fake.”

Tessa quickly caught on, her brows furrowing in disapproval. “Mr. Lucas, whether your car and gifts are rented or not, at least put some effort into choosing something real for Mom’s birthday. Giving her a counterfeit in front of so many people—aren’t you just embarrassing my sister? Or do you not care about how this makes her look?”

Julian’s expression darkened as he spoke in an equally cold tone. “Do you really think I would ever gift something fake? I know my status—I wouldn’t risk my reputation with something counterfeit. But you? If you couldn’t afford a real one, you should’ve just brought nothing at all. Instead, you’ve turned this into a spectacle. How humiliating.”

“And what makes you so sure my husband’s gift is the fake one? Have you had it authenticated?” Aurora countered sharply, stepping up beside Lucas.

Tessa scoffed, her voice laced with condescension. “Aurora, stop pretending. A fake is a fake—own up to it. Apologizing would be far less embarrassing.”

“Exactly. This is a complete disgrace!” someone chimed in.

The murmurs of the crowd grew louder, but Lucas remained entirely unfazed. He simply stood there, calm and unbothered. Then, without a word, he reached out and gently took Aurora’s hand in his. His palm was warm—so warm that Aurora instinctively looked up at him, meeting his deep, unwavering gaze. Lucas gave a slight shake of his head, as if to reassure her.

Julian, watching the interaction, was utterly unimpressed. To him, Lucas was nothing more than a pretty-faced nobody, as if he could possibly afford something of such value. Sending a fake was bad enough, but to present one that matched Julian’s own gift? That took either audacity or sheer stupidity. He had spent a fortune acquiring his vase—there was no chance it was anything but genuine.

Feeling confident, Julian turned to Grace and offered, “Mother, why don’t we ask Mr. Whitmore to take a look? He’s one of the most renowned antique appraisers in the country. Would you mind giving him a call? If he examines them, we’ll get to the truth right away.”

Despite being subjected to the scorn and skepticism of nearly everyone in the room, Lucas Carter remained utterly composed. His unwavering demeanor made Grace Williamson hesitate. After all, with so many eyes on them, there had to be a definitive answer. If they let this matter go unresolved, it would only invite more speculation. With that thought, she finally nodded and made the call.

Charl Whitmore, the renowned antique appraiser, readily agreed to come over upon hearing the situation. Before long, he arrived at the Walton estate, and as soon as he stepped inside, his eyes instinctively scanned the room. Even though Lucas wasn’t standing in the center of attention, his presence was undeniable—elegant yet distant, exuding a natural air of authority.

This man…

Charl’s breath hitched slightly.

Wasn’t this man Lucas Carter?

His throat went dry. He had nearly greeted him outright but caught the faint warning in Lucas’s gaze—a silent command for discretion. Understanding the unspoken message, Charl wisely kept his mouth shut. He then turned to the two identical vases and was momentarily taken aback.

“Mr. Whitmore, sorry to trouble you,” Grace said with a polite smile, though there was a hint of apology in her tone for disturbing him.

“It’s no trouble. Let me take a look first,” he replied, retrieving his appraisal tools and beginning a thorough examination of the vases’ carvings and intricate details.

The room fell into complete silence. Everyone held their breath, waiting for his verdict.

Time passed slowly.

Finally, Charl looked up and pointed at the vase inside the blue gift box. “Who gave this one?” he asked.

Julian lifted his chin slightly and spoke with confidence. “That would be mine, Mr. Whitmore.”