Chapter 218

Lynn Watson's fingers trembled slightly as she clutched her resignation letter.

She took a deep breath and pushed open the glass door to the CEO's office. Adrian Roland was in the middle of a video conference, his eyes fixed on the screen without even glancing up.

"Mr. Roland, these packages—"

"Leave them on the desk." His voice was cold as ice.

Lynn bit her lip and gently placed the stack of parcels in the corner of the desk. As she turned to leave, the sound of rustling paper made her pause.

Adrian had ended the meeting and was opening one of the envelopes. His hands froze, his knuckles turning white.

Lynn glanced back and saw the signature on the document in his hands—Stella Valentine.

Those three words struck Adrian like a knife to the temple. He snapped the file shut, his chest heaving.

Three years.

Since the car accident, Stella had vanished without a trace. She had taken the children and disappeared, never looking back—not even when his life hung in the balance.

"Legal department," he rasped into the intercom. "Process these documents with my personal seal."

When Lynn was called back into the office, her eyes were still red. She had just sent her resignation to HR.

"Compensation will be transferred to your account," Adrian said without looking up.

The glass door clicked shut behind her. Lynn wiped her tears and strode toward the elevator without a backward glance.

As dusk settled, Adrian massaged his throbbing temples. The phone rang—Uncle Xavier.

"Caught a grouper. Come for dinner."

He agreed and called for a driver. As the car merged into evening traffic, he leaned back against the leather seat, his consciousness drifting.

In his dream, there stood a towering tree.

Pink-white petals fluttered down like snowflakes. Beneath the tree stood Stella in a floral sundress, her face tilted upward as petals dusted her lashes.

"Sir? Sir!"

A blaring horn jolted him awake. The driver chuckled awkwardly. "Someone cut in front of us..."

Adrian waved him off and rolled down the window. The salty sea breeze rushed in, but it couldn't dispel the dream.

"Is there..." he suddenly asked, "a very large flowering tree in Houston? Pink and white."

The driver scratched his head. "A cherry blossom tree? Never heard of one that big."

The beachfront villa glowed with warm light. Old Mr. Xavier was listening to an opera, his fingers tapping the armrest in rhythm.

"Nightmare?" The old man noted Adrian's pallor.

Adrian stared at the dark sea beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows. "I dreamed of Stella."

Grant Rubenstein emerged from the kitchen on his cane, pausing at the words. The aroma of steamed fish filled the room, but the air had gone still.