Chapter 374

Charlie arrived much sooner than expected.

Twenty minutes later, he stood at the hospital room door, his expression dark and grim. "Ms. Valentine, what exactly happened to Mr. Roland?"

Stella's gaze drifted past him, scanning the empty hallway. "Where is Mr. Alistair?"

He let out a cold laugh. "Now you're looking for him? Weren't you inseparable these past four years? You could’ve just called him. Why go through the trouble of summoning me?"

"And you?" Stella met his eyes directly. "As Mr. Alistair’s personal driver, why are you so concerned about Adrian?"

Charlie’s face stiffened. "Didn’t Vincent ask me to come?"

"You still resent me for leaving back then?"

His eyes turned icy. "If you already know, why ask? He gave up everything for you, and you just took the money he nearly died for and walked away! These past four years without you, he was fine. But the moment you returned, he started hurting himself again!"

Stella lowered her head, her fingers trembling slightly as she stared at her phone screen.

Charlie took a step closer. "Cat got your tongue?"

"Reading a medical report," she murmured.

"Whose? That adopted child’s?"

"Adrian’s." She turned the screen toward him. "Dr. Lowell just sent it. Four years ago, he was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. A second personality emerged."

Charlie recoiled half a step.

"The records show his alter only appeared at night initially. But after we reunited at the Houston Grand Hotel, it started surfacing more frequently." Her voice shook. "After the car accident four years ago, he switched psychiatrists. The records stop there."

Charlie turned away, silence thickening like a wall.

A muffled cough suddenly came from the hospital bed.

"Boss!" Charlie rushed over.

Adrian frowned, his gaze still unfocused.

"Do you remember who I am?" Charlie’s voice was tight.

Adrian managed a weak smile. "Did Stella call you?"

"Yes..."

"Did you two argue?"

"No, I just—"

"I told you," Adrian’s voice was faint, "if I disappeared, you were to protect her and the children in my place. Where were you these past four years?"

Charlie’s eyes reddened instantly. "Boss, you remember everything? Since when—"

"Answer me." Adrian rubbed his temples. "I remember you crying like a child outside the operating room. You promised me."

Charlie clenched his fists. "She doesn’t deserve it."

"That’s not for you to decide."

"But—"

Adrian raised a hand to stop him. "Today is Celeste’s discharge day. I don’t want to scare her like this. Go handle the paperwork." His gaze shifted to Stella. "I need to talk to her."

Charlie left, slamming the door behind him.

The room was so quiet the drip of the IV was audible.

Adrian watched her, his eyes as gentle as moonlit waves.

Stella stood rooted in place, her nails digging into her palms.

"Stella," he called softly, patting the edge of the bed. "Come here."

She didn’t move.

"In the ER," he chuckled weakly, "did I say anything foolish?"

Stella turned to leave. "I’ll get the doctor."

"Stella." He stopped her. "Don’t you have anything to ask me?"

Questions surged like a tide, but not a single word made it past her lips.

"I know you’re confused," he said quietly. "Then let me explain. That man is Vincent Atlante—my twin brother. Victor Lefèvre back then—"

"That’s not what I want to know," she interrupted.

Adrian waited in silence.

Finally, she approached the bed, her voice barely above a whisper. "Does it... still hurt?"