Chapter 300

Stella Valentine gazed at the distant city lights, her lips curving into a bittersweet smile.

"My story with him..." She paused. "Was just ordinary days filled with simple routines."

Adrian Roland glanced at her. "Ordinary?"

"Yes." She nodded softly. "We rented an old apartment with basic furniture. He worked long hours, but he always remembered what the kids liked. He always noticed when I was upset."

"That's it?"

"That's it." Stella smiled faintly. "Remember what I told you? You never understood women."

Of course he remembered.

It was when Lily Savigny had her miscarriage. He had gone to confront Stella in anger.

"Women don’t crave wealth or luxury," she said, eyes fixed on the stars. "Just a home that shelters them from the storm. Back then, Victor Lefèvre took my house. Lily stole my place. Mr. Alistair was the one who gave me refuge."

Adrian suddenly understood. "Room 1231 at Houston Grand Hotel?"

"Yes."

"No wonder you reacted so strongly when I booked that room."

"It was our secret. Just his and mine." Her voice was barely a whisper. "Now... it's all gone. Every trace of him erased. Only I remember."

The mountain breeze picked up, but the night remained clear, scattered with stars.

"We did the simplest things," she said, tilting her face toward the sky. "Watched stars together. Waited for sunrise. I cooked for him. Waited for him to come home. No gourmet feasts. No mansions or luxury cars. But that was the life I wanted."

Adrian's expression darkened. "Are all women like you?"

"I don’t know." She shook her head. "I only know I am."

"Lily wanted the Roland family’s status. Wendy Evans chased wealth and comfort..." He laughed bitterly. "But you? You asked for nothing."

"Wanting nothing is the hardest of all." Stella pointed at the sky. "Look. Aren’t the stars beautiful?"

Adrian followed her gaze. "They are."

"What time is it?"

"Almost midnight."

So late already.

Four years had passed in the blink of an eye.

"Now?"

"Exactly midnight."

"He won’t come." Her voice was feather-light. "Not ever again."

She murmured to the stars, "Goodbye, Mr. Alistair."

"..."

"Happy birthday."

Adrian froze. "...To me?"

Stella didn’t answer. "Let’s go down."

He nodded. "The wind’s getting colder."

She knelt, fingertips brushing the ground. "Sweetheart, are you happy playing among the stars? If you miss Grandpa, go find him. If you miss me..." Her voice cracked. "Come visit me in my dreams."

Adrian stood behind her, watching her fragile frame. A sharp pain stabbed through his chest.

"Don’t blame your father," she whispered. "He has his own path to walk."

When she stood, she found Adrian clutching his chest, face pale.

"Does your hand hurt again?"

He shook his head. "Every time you mention the child, my heart aches."

"...Let’s go."

"Not staying for sunrise?"

"No." Her voice was barely audible. "Never again."

Without him by her side, what was the point of dawn?

The descent was quiet, the city below empty in the midnight hush.

"Let’s get your wound treated first," Stella said.

Adrian refused. "No."

"Why not?"

"William Rubenstein will be hunting for whoever injured him. The knife wound is the only clue. If they trace it to me, there’ll be trouble."