Chapter 341

The prayer beads struck Grant Rubenstein's face, but he didn't even blink.

Sandalwood beads scattered across the floor, their crisp clatter echoing through the silent living room.

"Old Master, no amount of anger will change the facts." Grant picked up a bead with deliberate calm. "He's remembered everything—including the parts you wished he'd forget."

Mr. Xavier Atlante's veins bulged against the wheelchair armrests. "Impossible! After all the effort I—"

"You thought one car crash could erase his memories forever?" Grant scoffed. "He's far sharper now than four years ago."

"Then arrange another accident!"

"Last time worked because he was unprepared. Now he's surrounded by bodyguards." Grant shook his head. "Besides, Stella Valentine is now his lawful wife. Touch her if you dare."

Xavier slammed his fist on the armrest. "After all these years of raising you, this is your usefulness?"

"Who crippled my leg?" Grant's gaze turned venomous as he looked up. "Have some conscience, Old Master."

"Conscience?" Xavier sneered. "I only want the perfect heir!"

"Pity your 'perfect heir' now spends every waking moment plotting to escape you." Grant rose slowly. "There is another solution."

"Speak!"

"Replace him." Grant locked eyes with the old man. "With me."

"You?" Xavier laughed mockingly. "A cripple?"

Grant's expression darkened instantly. He turned toward the door, his uneven footsteps punctuating the silence.

"Stop! Who said you could leave?"

Without looking back, Grant waved dismissively. "You'll regret this, Old Master."

——

The ocean breeze slipped through the half-open car window, dispersing the heavy silence.

Stella's knuckles whitened around the hem of her dress.

"Here." Adrian Roland offered a handkerchief. "Your makeup's smudged."

She ignored it, staring at his sharp profile. "Was any of that true?"

"Do you want it to be true?" he countered.

"Answer me!"

His grip tightened on the steering wheel. "No."

"What?"

"I'm not Mr. Alistair." His voice was barely audible. "It was just... expedient."

Stella's breath hitched.

"Avoid going out alone recently." His tone remained steady. "I'll protect you both."

"Why..." Her voice trembled. "Why lie to me?"

"I didn't lie." Adrian braked abruptly, meeting her gaze. "I'm truly not him."

Streetlight shadows pooled in his eyes like spilled ink.

"Then how did you know about the sunrise at Mount Rainier? Or find the crabapple tree?"

"Because..." His Adam's apple bobbed. "I went there."

"When?"

"Last week." A whisper. "Alone."

Stella suddenly laughed, tears spilling. "Thank God you're not him."

"Hmm?"

"If you were Mr. Alistair..." She wiped her cheeks. "How could I ever face the Adrian who hurt me? Thank God you're not."

Adrian's hands clenched around the wheel.

"Also," she remembered, "Xavier wants you to inherit his empire?"

"Yes."

"But he needs Mr. Alistair as his heir..."

"So?"

Stella held his gaze. "So you're really not him. Right?"

The sea wind rushed in, extinguishing the last warmth between them.

"No," he said.