Chapter 18

"Mom..."

A faint voice pierced through her dreams.

Stella Valentine jolted awake, the blinding fluorescent lights making her vision swim.

The sharp scent of antiseptic reminded her she was still in the hospital.

"Miss Valentine, you're awake!" The nurse pressed the call button in relief. "You've been unconscious for four days. The doctors were worried—"

"My children..." She struggled to sit up, but a searing pain in her abdomen forced her back with a gasp.

"Don't move! You just had lung resection surgery. You'll tear your stitches."

Lung resection?

She looked down at the bandages swathing her chest, the dull ache finally registering.

"The cancer spread too quickly. We had to remove a third of your right lung." The nurse handed her a glass of water. "Avoid strenuous activity from now on."

"Then I..."

"With regular chemotherapy, you might buy some more time." The nurse avoided her hopeful gaze. "As for how long..."

"I understand."

Stella turned to the window. Every extra day was a gift—she should have died in that rainy alley years ago.

Knock, knock, knock.

The sound interrupted her thoughts.

"Family?" The nurse eyed the impeccably dressed man at the door.

His gaze behind gold-rimmed glasses was tender as water. "Yes."

The door clicked shut.

"Mr. Merovingian, what brings you here?" Stella forced a weak smile.

"If I waited any longer, I might miss my last chance to see you." Hugo Merovingian traced her gaunt cheek with his fingertips. "You hid this from even me?"

"It's not exactly good news..."

"So you planned to die quietly?" His fingers suddenly tightened on her chin. "Stella, even if you rejected my proposal, we're still friends at least."

"I..."

"Come to America with me." He released her and pulled plane tickets from his briefcase. "Bring the children."

She shook her head.

"Still hung up on him?" Hugo's smile turned icy. "Tell me, what does Adrian Roland have that I don't?"

Memories of that rainy night six years ago surfaced—the night Adrian's family fell apart. This was the man who had fished her lifeless body from the river.

Knowing her heart belonged to another. Knowing she carried another man's children.

"I gave you space." He smoothed her disheveled hair. "But this time, I won't let you face it alone."

"Mr. Merovingian..."

"5,276 times." He abruptly said.

"What?"

"That's how many times you've thanked me." Hugo removed his glasses to clean them. "2,192 days over six years—averaging 2.5 times daily. You've always kept me at arm's length."

Stella fell silent.

She'd never thanked Adrian. That boy had spoiled her rotten, granting her every whim.

"I can't win arguments with you." She gave a bitter laugh.

"There's your smile." His thumb brushed the corner of her lips. "You should smile more often."

Hurried footsteps echoed in the hallway.

The door flew open before Hugo could react, sending him stumbling back—