Chapter 171

"Victor!" Stella grabbed his sleeve abruptly.

Victor Valence halted mid-step, turning with lingering fury in his eyes.

Stella took a deep breath. "Stop investigating Mr. Alistair. I'm begging you."

He scoffed. "If he's so perfect, why is he hiding? Your uncle and that Grant are trampling all over you. Where is he?"

"He has his own matters to handle."

"So I'm the only one with nothing better to do?" A vein throbbed at Victor's temple. "I left my entire team to rush here, and this is how you treat me? Stella, I swear I'll find out who he is!"

She massaged her temples. The company crisis was exhausting enough without dealing with this spoiled heir.

Her phone buzzed.

The screen flashed: Mr. Alistair Calling.

The moment she answered, that familiar voice spoke: "Give the phone to Victor."

"How did you know he's here?"

"I saw him enter."

Her pulse jumped. "Mr. Alistair, he's just—"

"Who says there's nothing between us?" Victor snatched the phone. "I, Victor Valence, intend to marry Stella Valentine! If you're a real man, face me!"

"Shut up!" Stella trembled with rage.

Victor ignored her. "In Houston, only Adrian Roland and I meet the criteria. This fraud is manipulating you!"

"Stay out of my affairs."

"Fine! When you're brokenhearted again, don't come crying to me."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

Mr. Alistair's deep voice resonated through the speaker: "Did Victor Lefèvre hurt you?"

"He's powerless now." Her tone softened.

A quiet chuckle. "That confident?"

"Thanks to your brilliant strategies."

"Do what you must. I'll appear if danger arises."

She tightened her grip on the phone. "But Adrian—"

"You matter more." His tenderness sent shivers through her. "Now hand me to Victor."

After a hesitation, she complied.

Victor took the phone with a sneer.

When the call ended, his expression shifted dramatically. He studied Stella with unreadable intensity before walking away without a word.

"Mr. Alistair?" She brought the phone back to her ear.

"A secret between men." Amusement colored his low laugh.

"...I see."

"Angry?"

"Not at all."

His delighted laughter curled around her. "My little princess has learned to pout."

Her ears burned. "I'm not that girl anymore—"

"But I miss the Stella who wore floral sundresses, proud as a little peacock." His voice turned molten. "We'll talk tonight."

The line went dead.

Victor had vanished from the hallway.

Before she could process it, a rough hand seized her wrist.

"Uncle Victor?"

Victor Lefèvre stormed toward her with legal team in tow. "Grant is suing us! If this company falls, you're going down with it!"