Chapter 314

"Uncle Xavier, in all of Houston, who else besides you and me could make two scrapped cars vanish without a trace?"

Mr. Xavier's fingers tightened around his prayer beads, knuckles turning white. "You suspect me?"

"I'm merely stating facts." Adrian picked up a stalk of celery with his chopsticks, chewed twice, then spat it back into the bowl. "Finding those cars sooner would've revealed the tampered brakes."

"And then what?" Mr. Xavier sneered. "Patch things up with Stella Valentine?"

"At least those years wouldn't have been wasted."

"Without those years, would you be where you are today?" Mr. Xavier slammed the table. "Grant!"

Grant Rubenstein approached swiftly with his cane, exchanging a brief glare with Adrian.

"Take me to my room!"

The dining room fell silent.

A servant ventured timidly, "Mr. Roland, it's about to rain. Would you like to stay the night?"

"Thunder?"

"A few distant rumbles just now..."

"I need to go back."

The lights were still on in the second-floor master bedroom.

Pushing the door open, he found Stella curled in the corner of the sofa, drowning in his white dress shirt like a drowsy kitten.

She was twenty-nine now.

They'd known each other for twenty years.

Yet she still looked so small. So fragile.

A woman who should've been cherished had endured cancer, betrayal, and the loss of a child.

How had she survived those stormy nights alone?

Now she stayed here playing this charade—for his grandfather's sake.

"Mmm..." Rubbing her eyes, she sat up. "You're back. Let me heat the dessert soup..."

He pressed a hand to her shoulder.

"Already ate." His gaze lingered on her sleep-softened features. "Why wait up?"

"Because..."

"Stella." His voice tightened. "Look at me. Really look."

Her lashes fluttered, clarity returning to her eyes. "Adrian Roland."

"Not Mr. Alistair?"

"I know the difference."

His lips twisted wryly. "Go to bed."

She remained, fingers twisting together.

"Something to say?"

"Thank you." The words barely carried. "For getting Victor Lefèvre's donation agreement."

So that was it.

His mouth curved without humor. "So tonight's dessert was payment?"