Chapter 142

Martha deftly placed the final dish on the dining table.

"Miss Stella, you go ahead to the dining room. I'll take care of things here."

Stella Valentine lingered awkwardly by the kitchen doorway. "Let me help—"

"No need," Martha interrupted, effortlessly balancing four plates. "I've been doing this for decades. See? I can carry this many at once."

Stella fell silent, watching the older woman's practiced movements.

"Stella." Mr. Alistair's deep voice called from the living room.

She took a steadying breath before stepping out.

The modest three-bedroom apartment felt even smaller with the children's belongings scattered everywhere. Ethan's toys littered the floor while Luna's baby essentials crowded the sofa.

Mr. Alistair's tall frame dominated the cramped space. He sat cradling Luna in one corner of the sofa, with Ethan perched on his lap, playing with his baby sister.

The sofa was too low for him. His long legs folded awkwardly, yet he didn't seem to mind as Ethan clambered over him.

"Ethan," Stella called softly. "Dinner's ready."

The boy remained oblivious, completely absorbed in his newfound father.

"Daddy!" Ethan looked up excitedly. "Can superheroes do anything?"

Mr. Alistair's lips curved slightly. "We can try."

"Can you fly with me?"

"That's too dangerous."

Ethan pouted briefly before perking up again. "Will I get superpowers when I grow up?"

"Of course."

"Then I can protect Mommy!"

Mr. Alistair's gaze softened as it met Stella's. "Daddy will protect Mommy."

"What about me?"

"You'll protect your sister."

Ethan blinked in confusion. "But who will I protect then?"

Mr. Alistair ruffled his hair. "When you're older, you'll meet someone special. That's who you'll protect."

"Is Mommy your special person?"

Meeting Stella's eyes, Mr. Alistair nodded solemnly. "Yes. Daddy will always protect Mommy. And I'll protect you and your sister until you're grown."

Ethan whooped and threw himself into Stella's arms. "Thank you, Mommy!"

She stroked his back. "For what?"

"For finding me and Luna such a good daddy!" Ethan beamed. "But it'd be even better if Daddy could play video games with me!"

Mr. Alistair responded immediately. "After dinner, we'll beat that level together."

"Yes!"

Both children were unusually clingy that evening. When Martha tried to take Luna, the baby whimpered in protest. Even Stella's attempts to hold her daughter were met with reluctance. Only in Mr. Alistair's arms did the little girl giggle contentedly.

Ethan eagerly served his father a portion of shredded pork with cucumber. "Try this, Daddy! Mommy made it special for you!"

Stella watched Mr. Alistair's expression anxiously. She'd prepared this dish countless times in Milan—it had been Adrian Roland's favorite whenever he visited.

"It's delicious," Mr. Alistair murmured.

Relief washed over her. "I'll make something else tomorrow. Do you like spicy food?"

A pause. "I can handle it."

"Then tomorrow I'll prepare mapo tofu and shredded chicken in hot sauce."

"Good."

Ethan wolfed down his meal before dragging Mr. Alistair toward the nursery. "Daddy, come quick! I can't beat this level!"

With Luna still giggling in his arms, Mr. Alistair settled cross-legged on the floor beside Ethan. Father and son focused intently on the game screen, their laughter filling the room.

In the kitchen, Martha sighed while washing dishes. "Mr. Alistair is even more handsome up close! Ethan looks just like him!"

Stella forced a smile.

Biology worked in mysterious ways. Ethan had always been politely distant with Hugo Merovingian, yet took to Mr. Alistair immediately. And Mr. Alistair indulged the boy's antics with unmistakable affection.

"You've known Mr. Alistair for a while?" Martha probed.

"Only a few months."

Martha's eyes widened. "But Ethan's five..."

Stella didn't explain. Their relationship was too complicated for simple explanations.

"I see," Martha nodded knowingly. "You had a fight before? It's hard when the husband's away during childbirth. But he clearly cares—asks about your meals and health every day..."

As Martha chattered on, Stella drifted into thought.

Wasn't this exactly the life she'd once dreamed of?

A son bright as the sun, a daughter gentle as the moon, and herself—the star between them.

Only...

The man who'd once promised her the world now wore a different face.