Chapter 272

Adrian's tall frame shielded Stella from Dr. Charles' probing gaze. "I checked that motorcycle. It comes in five colors. Victor rides the black one. Do you like black?"

Finally understanding his implication, Stella shook her head. "No."

"Then why did you leave with him that day?" His voice lowered. "You couldn't take your eyes off that bike."

Stella took a deep breath and turned toward the children.

Ethan and Luna immediately rushed into her arms, their tiny voices chiming "Miss you, Mommy." Holding their warm little bodies, she felt all her gloom dissipate.

"Mommy, were you and Daddy fighting?" Ethan looked up with concern.

Adrian approached, effortlessly scooping Luna into one arm while taking Ethan's hand. "No. Daddy was just worried Mommy works too hard."

Ethan's eyes sparkled. "Daddy's jealous! Martha said when grown-ups talk like that, it means they're sour!"

"Martha?" Adrian's gaze snapped to Stella.

Stella explained, "The nanny's surname is Clementson. The kids call her Martha."

"You hired her?"

"...Mr. Alistair arranged it."

Adrian scoffed. "Even told him about Martha? You really hold nothing back with him."

Stella whispered sharply, "Not in front of the children."

Luna immediately covered her ears. "Brother, cover yours too! Grandma says we mustn't eavesdrop!"

Both children dramatically pressed hands over their ears—with conspicuous gaps between fingers. Adrian chuckled. "Like covering ears while stealing a bell."

"Daddy, what's that mean?" Luna blinked.

"It's when a thief covers his own ears thinking others won't hear the bell." He tweaked her nose. "Exactly like you right now."

Ethan jumped to her defense. "Luna really tried! Her hands are just too small!"

"Then are yours covering properly?" Adrian raised an eyebrow.

Ethan clamped his hands tightly. "Super proper!"

"Then how come you still hear me?"

The boy flushed upon realizing his mistake.

Adrian ruffled his hair. "We're visiting Great-grandpa tonight. He misses you both."

"Is Mommy coming?" Ethan asked hopefully.

Before Stella could respond, Adrian stated firmly, "Yes."

The children cheered.

Outside the TV station, Adrian expertly secured them in their car seats, double-checking each buckle. Stella watched as he effortlessly lifted eight-year-old Ethan one-handed, her son's eyes filled with admiration.

Perhaps boys truly needed a father's example.

"Daddy, why do you always use your right hand now?" Ethan curiously touched his left arm. "You used to carry me with this one."

Adrian flexed the limb slightly. "It's on vacation. Should be back to work next week."

"Arms take vacations too?"

"Just like how you don't want school during summer break." He deadpanned.

Ethan nodded sagely.

After settling the children, Adrian opened the passenger door. "Get in."

"I can—"

"Should I close it so you can try again properly?" His tone brooked no argument.

Stella reluctantly entered. As she sat, he suddenly leaned in, his breath brushing her cheek. In panic, she shoved his injured left arm.

"Damn—" Adrian winced.

"Sorry! I didn't mean—"

"Just fixing your seatbelt." He gritted out. "What did you think I'd do?"

Only then did Stella notice the tangled strap. Her ears burned.

"You've always been like this." Wincing, he readjusted the belt. "In school, you'd take my notebooks by mistake and get me scolded."

As the car started, Stella murmured, "Is your arm really okay?"

"Old injury."

"Should we see a doctor?"

"Stella!" He suddenly exploded. "If you won't accept me, stop this concern. I'd rather you stayed cold—so I can finally move on."