Chapter 345

Dawn light filtered through the window as steam rose from the soy milk.

Adrian Roland set down his cup, the porcelain clinking against the wooden table.

"I've told you everything." He exhaled deeply. "Keeping this secret all these years nearly drove me mad."

Julian Valois tapped his fingers against the tabletop, gaze fixed on the plane leaves drifting outside.

"I should've known." A faint smile curved his lips. "The way Stella looks at me... it never changed."

Julian shook his head with a wry chuckle. "You two always find your way back to each other."

"She was always mine." Adrian drained his soy milk in one gulp, determination flashing in his eyes as his throat worked.

"Going to see her now?"

"Not yet." He traced the rim of his cup. "First, I need to reclaim Mr. Alistair's memories."

Julian arched a brow. "How?"

"There's always a way." Adrian's gaze darkened. "Even if it comes at a cost."

When Julian stood to leave, sunlight gilded his shoulders. As the Valois heir, mountains of paperwork awaited him—along with a troublesome younger brother's messes.

"Good luck." He clapped Adrian's shoulder.

The soy milk shop owner approached, rubbing his hands. Adrian handed him a hundred-dollar bill.

"Sir, I don't have change—"

"Another order of custard buns." Adrian checked his watch. "I'm expecting company."

Half an hour later, Grant Rubenstein entered leaning on a cane.

"Had a change of heart, Mr. Roland?" He sat directly across, his cane thudding against the table.

Adrian glanced at the departing taxi. "Can't drive anymore, Grant?"

"Courtesy of Uncle Xavier." Grant bit into a custard bun. "Worth it, though."

"For your so-called 'perfect timing'?"

"Mutual benefit." Grant licked custard from his lip. "I can reunite you with Miss Valentine—"

"I am Mr. Alistair." Adrian's interruption sent the bun tumbling onto the table.

Grant's eyes narrowed. "Your memories returned?"

"No." Adrian unfastened his cufflink, revealing a vicious scar. "That's why I need your help."

The air turned glacial.

"Fascinating." Grant's low chuckle held no mirth. "You're right—this leg..." He rapped his cane sharply. "And that arm are both Xavier's handiwork."

Adrian rolled up his sleeve. "Do it again."

"You're insane?" Grant's pupils contracted. "That arm's recovery was already a miracle—"

"Worth it."

Grant leaned forward abruptly, voice dropping to a whisper. "Know something? I didn't even need to lift a finger last time—" His smile turned grotesque. "You broke it yourself."

The cane clattered to the floor.