Chapter 168

My phone screen lit up with a message from Mr. Alistair.

["Stella, promise me something?"]

I set down my design sketches and typed quickly. ["What is it?"]

["When this is all over, move abroad with me."]

My fingers hovered over the screen before I replied. ["Wasn't that always the plan?"]

His response came instantly. ["I'm afraid you'll change your mind."]

A soft laugh escaped me. ["Why would you think that?"]

["You're becoming extraordinary."]

I stared at those words, my breath catching.

Another message followed. ["I'm terrified you'll meet someone better. That I won't be enough for you."]

My heart clenched.

Ever since we'd opened our hearts to each other, Mr. Alistair had been wrestling with these insecurities.

["Silly,"] I typed slowly, ["I'm a single mother with two children. How many options do you think I have?"]

["But Victor Valence—"]

["He just wants a suitable wife,"] I cut in. ["I've already turned him down."]

The typing indicator flickered, then stopped.

Minutes passed before his next message appeared. ["It's not others I doubt. It's myself."]

My nose stung with sudden emotion.

Before I could respond, another text arrived. ["Let's focus on today. Remember that soda bottle story from high school?"]

Memory sparked like struck flint.

At precisely 4 PM, Victor Lefèvre knocked on my office door. "The clients are here. Conference room."

I closed my files and stood.

He lowered his voice. "Got a solution yet?"

"We'll see."

His face darkened. "These are major players. Don't screw this up."

"I know my limits."

Victor snorted. "If all else fails, once Lily marries into the Roland family—"

"Uncle," I interrupted, "my career isn't your concern."

In Brilliant Star Group's conference room, three suited men waited.

Victor plastered on a smile. "Mr. Grant, so sorry to keep you—"

The youngest man raised a hand. "Skip the pleasantries. We're here for answers."

Victor immediately shrank behind me, whispering, "You handle this."

The scene felt achingly familiar—just like when he'd hide behind my father after every childhood mishap.

"I'm Stella Valentine." I extended my hand.

Mr. Grant blinked. "You're Stella Valentine?"

"You know me?"

His lips curved oddly. "Adrian Roland moved heaven and earth for—"

"Mr. Grant!" His lawyer cut in sharply.

The man caught himself, shaking my hand. "An honor."

My brow furrowed. "If this is about Adrian—"

"You're divorced?" he interrupted.

"Completely. No ties remain."

Mr. Grant studied me. "Let's hope so. For everyone's sake."

"Is that relevant to our project?"

"Perhaps." He leaned back. "Frankly, I'm more interested in you. Beyond design talent, what makes you special?"

The room plunged into silence.

Every eye locked onto me.