Chapter 2

Harold's voice burst through the phone, sounding utterly shocked. "What? You really said yes? But what about that motorcycle-riding bad boy—"

Stella threw herself back against the chair. She squeezed her eyes shut, her voice trembling as she interrupted him, "I'll let Margaret and her mom return, but I have one condition.

"I want everything my mom left me all back, right now, including the company shares, the Scott family's wedding gifts, not a single thing missing. Everything must be registered under my name."

There was an abrupt silence on the other end of the line.

After what felt like ages, Harold finally spoke, his voice coming through the receiver with clenched teeth. "Alright, Stella, you sure have a big ambition."

Stella let out a cold laugh, her eyes completely empty. "I picked it all up from you. You'd rather take care of someone else's kid than your own.

"If you love them so much and want them back, do you really think you can bring them home without paying for it?"

Harold went quiet again. After a long, tense silence, he finally gave in.

Right before ending the call, Stella said with an icy tone, "I'm making this public at the shareholders' meeting next month. Until then, don't let a single word slip."

She ended the call without another word.

Suddenly, rain poured down outside, and the sound of raindrops hitting the windshield felt like they were battering her already fragile heart.

'Since he doesn't love me,' Stella told herself. 'Since he's so eager to push me into Elijah's arms, I'll do exactly as Arthur wants. I'll become his brother's wife.'

After she got back, Stella spent three hours in her car, crying her heart out.

It took her another hour to pull herself together. She spent two hours preparing the agenda for the next day's meeting.

Then, she sat alone on the cold floor, staring out at the pitch-black window, lost in thought all night long.

Stella came down with a bad illness, but still dragged herself to work every day, right on time.

Meanwhile, Arthur only bothered to send her one text, claiming he was off to some race. He didn't contact her again until five days had passed.

When Arthur called, Stella had wrapped up a remote meeting. She hung up on him right away, not pausing for a second.

But as soon as Stella clocked out, Arthur was waiting for her right outside.

He stood there with a vibrant bouquet of roses, a playful smirk on his lips. Without hesitation, he grabbed Stella by the waist and pulled her close into his arms. "Are you mad at me? Huh? Why didn't you answer my call?"

All eyes in the crowd were fixed on Stella and Arthur.

Those honeyed words from the past now pierced Stella's heart like a cold knife.

She struggled a few times, but Arthur only held her tighter. Her face was so pale that it looked almost lifeless, and all she showed was tiredness. "I'm busy."

Arthur frowned and pressed the back of his hand to Stella's forehead.

She instinctively tried to dodge. But Arthur kept her firmly in his arms. "Be good and don't move."

"Why didn't you tell me you were sick? Did you take your medicine?" he sounded worried.

As she looked at him, Stella's fingers felt icy cold. She let out a sarcastic smile. "Would you care?"

'Would someone who could push me into another man's bed really care if I was sick or not?' Stella thought.

Arthur looked at her, feeling like something was off, but he couldn't figure out what. Still, since she was at work and standing there, he guessed she couldn't be that bad off.

Arthur gave her a laid-back smile. "Of course, I care. I'm here to keep you company. There's a hangout tonight. You're coming with me."

Without caring about Stella's resistance, Arthur took her hand and dragged her away, though he knew she was sick.

Stella didn't realize until she got there what Arthur had really planned. It turned out to be a welcome party for Margaret.

When Margaret saw Stella walk in, she instantly shrank back.

Arthur immediately stepped in front of Stella, blocking her view.

"I've told you before, right? I grew up at my grandma's place, always sneaking over to the neighbors for meals. Margaret is the daughter of one of those neighbors," he said, a hint of smug satisfaction in his eyes.

Everyone else in the room was watching like they were waiting for the drama to unfold, eager to see Stella crack and look completely stunned.

But Stella shot Arthur a single glance, said not a word, and took the darkest corner seat.

Everyone stared at Arthur, dumbfounded, their eyes wide.

Where Stella couldn't see, Arthur's face fell.

Arthur's buddies behind him smirked and, almost in sync, whipped out their phones.

[She's totally putting on a show. Anyone can see it.]

[Hey, let her pretend for now. Let's see if Stella can still sit there all calm once the real drama kicks off.]

Of course, Arthur saw those messages as well.

Not long after he put his phone away, someone knocked on the door of the private room. "Excuse me, is Ms. Turner here? There's a gift for you to sign for."

Everyone trailed after Margaret outside.

When they saw what was waiting for them, their jaws practically hit the floor. Right there was a blindingly shiny sports car, completely encircled by 9,999 roses, stealing the spotlight.

"Isn't that the limited-edition sports car? I've been trying to get my hands on one for ages and still couldn't."

"Margaret, you hit the jackpot."

The delivery guy stepped forward and handed Margaret the keys. "Mr. S asked me to pass on a message. Whatever you desire, even if it's the stars in the sky, he'd pluck them down and lay them at your feet."

Margaret, who should have been looking straight ahead, suddenly fixed her gaze on Arthur. She curved her lips into a confident smile. "Alright, thank him for me, and please let him know I absolutely adore the gift."

Stella's palm felt icy cold, like she was holding a block of ice.

Every year, she got another identical motorcycle charm for her backpack. Arthur always gave her that as a birthday gift.

As it turned out, whether he'd cared or not had long been written in the signs.