Chapter 144

Julian Valois swirled the amber liquid in his glass, watching it catch the light. "Adrian, have you ever wondered how things would've turned out between you and Stella if Lily Savigny hadn't entered the picture?"

Adrian Roland's fingers tightened around his glass, the crystal emitting a faint crack.

"Her father drove drunk..." Julian's voice lowered. "Can you ever forgive him for your parents' deaths?"

Adrian's collar suddenly felt suffocating. He undid two buttons, his Adam's apple bobbing.

"If none of that had happened..." His voice was hoarse. "Mr. Alistair would've come sooner."

Love and hatred warred inside him. Mr. Alistair had loved Stella for ten years, while Adrian's hatred had festered for six.

Now, it was too late.

Julian's parting words cut like a knife: "Your act is full of holes. She'll learn the truth eventually."

At dawn, Adrian watched the pale light spread across the horizon.

"One more day of hiding is enough."

...

Outside the bar, his phone rang abruptly.

Caller ID: Stella Valentine.

He answered. "Hello?"

Silence stretched on the other end.

"Little Star?"

"Who is this?" Stella's voice was sharp with suspicion.

Adrian's pulse jumped.

"Mr. Alistair?" Her voice trembled. "Why do you have Adrian's phone?"

Cold sweat drenched his back.

He'd forgotten to disguise his voice.

Normally before meeting her, he'd smoke to roughen his tone. But tonight at the bar, he'd already had his cigarette.

Covering the receiver, he cleared his throat and resumed his usual cadence. "It's me."

"...Is it really you?"

"Who else?" He forced lightness into his tone. "Wrong number? Were you looking for your Mr. Alistair?"

"No." Her voice turned glacial. "Just reminding you there are only thirty days left in the cooling-off period. Don't claim you're busy when the time comes."

Each word was an ice pick to his chest.

"That's all?"

"What else is there?" she countered. "This is the only thing left between us."

Adrian's chest constricted. "Little Star—"

"Call me Ms. Valentine," she cut in. "Save that name for someone who deserves it."

"You love him that much?"

"None of your business."

Her voice suddenly steadied. "The children are the only compensation I need from you. Nothing else."

She mentioned the investigation into her father's accident, returning the Roland family assets—each sentence drawing a clearer line between them.

"Finished?" she asked.

"...Yes."

"Goodbye then."

"Wait!" Adrian's voice cracked. "Just once...let me call you Little Star one last time."

A soft inhale came through the line.

"The last time," he said bitterly. "I won't do it again."

Silence expanded.

He could hear her controlled breathing.

Minutes later, the call disconnected abruptly.

The dial tone sounded like a death knell.

At least he still had the "Mr. Alistair" identity.

His other phone rang right on cue. Martha Clementson's anxious voice came through: "Mr. Alistair, Ms. Valentine is crying terribly—"

He hung up hastily, lighting a cigarette and inhaling deeply.

Between coughs, his voice regained its roughness.

When he called back, Martha fretted: "Ms. Valentine locked herself in after that call—"

"Let her be," he said. "Some pain must be endured alone."

Hanging up, Adrian watched the lightening sky.

He knew why Stella was crying.

Not for Adrian Roland, but for the version of herself who'd once loved without reservation.

Martha was bustling in the kitchen when Stella emerged with swollen eyes.

"Mr. Alistair promised he'll stay until you wake up from now on!" Martha said cheerfully. "I'm making your favorite chicken wonton soup for lunch!"

Stella managed a weak smile.

"Oh," Martha suddenly frowned. "His voice sounded odd today..."

"How so?"

"Can't put my finger on it..." Martha shook her head. "Probably just my imagination."

Stella looked out the window where sunlight pierced the clouds.

Like certain truths that would eventually come to light.