Chapter 159

Stella Valentine's heartbeat quickened as she gazed at the man before her.

The slight furrow of his brows, the way he spoke—everything mirrored Mr. Alistair perfectly. Yet the impeccably tailored suit was unmistakably Adrian Roland’s, the same one she had seen him wear earlier that day.

Julian Valois, ever the seasoned businessman, recovered swiftly from his initial surprise. A knowing smile played on his lips as he turned to Mr. Alistair. "Shall I explain, or would you prefer to do it yourself?"

Adrian swiftly tucked the notebook back into his inner pocket, exchanging a silent glance with Julian.

"Thanks. I’ll transfer the cost later."

Julian chuckled. "It’s a limited edition. That’ll cost extra."

"Double, then."

With a polite nod toward Stella, Julian said, "Miss Valentine, I’ll take my leave now."

Only when Julian’s car disappeared from view did Adrian finally look away.

"...Mr. Alistair?"

"Hmm." The corner of his lips lifted as he stepped closer. "Even you couldn’t tell us apart?"

Stella shook her head. "I’d recognize your voice anywhere. But… why did you ask Mr. Valois to prepare this suit?"

"For you."

"Me?"

"We’ll talk at home." He guided her into the car with a hand at her waist, carefully fastening her seatbelt before taking the driver’s seat.

The car glided smoothly toward Rose Garden.

"Stella, I promised to help you seek justice." His voice was low and resolute as he kept his eyes on the road. "Whatever you plan to do."

She studied his profile—the broad shoulders, sharp gaze, and steady tone. This was the Mr. Alistair she knew, a stark contrast to the Adrian she had encountered that morning.

Her tense nerves gradually eased. "I will make them pay for what they did to my father. Lily Savigny, Sophia Durand, Victor Lefèvre—none of them will escape. Once the divorce is finalized, I’ll use my father’s shares to join the board."

"Just like that? No divorce settlement?"

"What do you mean?"

"New Frontier Group is worth billions. As marital assets, you’re entitled to half."

"I don’t want it." Her voice was firm. "I want nothing more to do with him."

"But I’ll give it to you."

"You?"

"That’s why I borrowed this suit."

Stella inhaled sharply. "You… impersonated Adrian?"

"The Rolands owe me." His tone turned icy. "Half of it was always mine. Now, I’m giving it to you."

She stared at him, stunned into silence.

"So when Mr. Valois said you were busy today…"

"Something like that."

"But I truly don’t need it." She bit her lip. "Mr. Alistair, after the divorce on Friday, I just want justice for my father. Then… to live peacefully with you and the children."

Adrian’s throat moved as his voice softened. "I know."

"I saw Adrian today."

"At the hospital?"

"Yes, when I visited Grace." Her gaze drifted to the window. "We confirmed the paperwork for Friday."

"He must regret it."

"Maybe."

"And he’ll try to win you back."

Stella gave a bitter smile. "What’s the point? The damage is done. My father is gone, my lungs are… And Lily is carrying his child. Isn’t this what he wanted?"

"He didn’t know the truth back then. Hatred blinded him."

"I don’t blame him for helping Lily." Her voice trembled. "What hurts is that he never believed me. Not once in five years."

Silence filled the car.

Adrian rubbed his temples and pulled into the garage.

"Tired?" Guilt tinged her voice. "Let’s not talk about this anymore. I’ll cook dinner."

He smiled wryly, leaning in to brush his lips against hers. "Let Martha handle it."

"Is my cooking that bad?"

"It’s delicious. But I’m afraid."

"Afraid of what?"

"Of getting used to it." His fingertips traced her lips. "Happiness becomes a habit, and then you take it for granted. When it’s gone… the pain is unbearable."

She understood his fear. Even now, with everything they had, Mr. Alistair remained that same boy terrified of loss.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she kissed him.

The contact sent a jolt through him.

"Stella…"

"Last time, you said you wanted me to kiss you first." Her eyes sparkled. "Still afraid?"

Her gaze reminded him of that night in Milan six years ago, when she had looked at him the same way, her eyes full of starlight.

Memories surged like a tidal wave, sending sharp pain through his skull.

"Mr. Alistair?" Worried, she pressed a hand to his forehead. "Are you unwell?"

He caught her fingers. "I’m fine."

"But you’re pale."

"Haven’t been sleeping well."

Stella suddenly remembered. "Joy mentioned you always came at night and left before dawn. That period… was hard, wasn’t it?"

"Hard." He admitted. "But happy."

Kissing her again, his voice shook. "Stella, you promised not to leave me."

She held him gently, stroking his back. "I won’t leave you."

"No matter what happens, no matter who I am—you’ll stay, right?"