Chapter 237

The young female fans quickly got distracted by the commotion nearby and surged toward the side entrance.

The previously jam-packed corridor emptied in an instant.

With half an hour left before the concert—just enough time.

She strode through the stadium gates. Staff bustled about, making final adjustments.

Several burly men stood guard outside Harry Vance's dressing room, roughly shooing away girls wearing light-up headbands.

"Sir, we just wanted to deliver fan letters..."

"Get lost!"

"Could you at least pass them along—"

"One more word and you'll regret it!"

The girls trembled, placing a thick stack of envelopes by the door before fleeing in tears. "We left the letters here, Harry!"

The security guards raised their fists threateningly, sending the girls scrambling.

"Which department are you with?"

Stella Valentine startled at the voice behind her. "I—"

"Oh, the new makeup artist? You're late! Harry's been waiting!"

Before she could react, someone yanked her wrist and dragged her inside. Recognizing the escort, the guards let them pass without question.

Stella bent to pick up the discarded letters.

"Harry!"

The dressing room was hazy with smoke. Harry Vance didn't look up from his video game, cigarette dangling from his lips. "Fans all gone?"

"Makeup artist is here!"

Harry spun around—then choked violently, ash scattering across his lap.

Stella froze. His face bore obvious surgical enhancements, but the work looked unnatural, leaving his features puffy and stiff.

"...You're the makeup artist?"

"No."

"Then why are you here?" His expression darkened. "Did Joy send you?"

"Let's talk about the child."

Harry crushed his cigarette. "Impossible! With my current popularity, surgery is out of the question!"

"No room for negotiation?"

"Miss Valentine, out of respect for our past, I'll let this slide. But regarding that child, we're square."

The staff immediately tensed, watching her warily.

Stella glanced at the room full of bodyguards and smiled. "Fine. Then I'll enjoy the concert."

She waved her ticket and walked out calmly.

Lines had formed at the ticket gates. Finding her seat, she checked emails while waiting.

The concert started an hour late due to the missing makeup artist.

When fireworks exploded onstage and Harry descended from the ceiling, the crowd's screams nearly blew the roof off.

During intermission, Stella slipped away unnoticed.

She intercepted Harry outside the restrooms.

"Two choices," she blocked the door. "Hold it through your performance, or talk to me."

Harry gritted his teeth. With people constantly passing by, a scene would draw unwanted attention.

"I can't even risk a hospital visit for a cold right now, let alone surgery!" he hissed. "And my liver's failing!"

"So Celeste's condition is genetic? From you?"

Harry smirked bitterly. "Yes, she got it from me. Happy now?"

"She always asks about her father."

"Tell her she doesn't have one!"

"I did," Stella met his gaze. "I told her he's dead."

Harry's face twisted with rage. "You—"

......

Adrian Roland watched the heavily made-up singer onstage with a frown.

Beside him, Wendy Evans shrieked excitedly, drawing annoyed glances. Several audience members discreetly photographed Adrian's striking profile.

"Mr. Roland," Wendy whispered over the music. "After this concert, we're even."

"I'll transfer the money now."

"But the show isn't over."

As Adrian stood to leave, she grabbed his wrist.

"Let go." He shook her off. "Name your price."