Chapter 377

Penny counted Adrian's "crimes" on her fingers, her voice rising with indignation. When accusing him of stinginess, she nearly blurted out "miserly old scrooge."

Loud words always come with consequences.

The gentle female voice on the phone vanished, replaced by a chillingly deep male tone. "Heartless? Nitpicky? Stingy?"

Penny froze mid-rant, her complaints lodged in her throat. "B-Boss? What a coincidence! You're with Mrs. Roland?"

Adrian gave a dry chuckle. "What do you think?"

"I—I just remembered some urgent paperwork. Goodbye, Boss!"

The call ended abruptly. Beads of sweat formed on Penny's forehead.

Adrian handed the phone back to Stella, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "My secretary has quite the nerve."

Stella took the phone and guided him back to the hospital bed. "You have a leg fracture, yet you dared to get up?"

"Little Star."

"Hmm?"

"You scolded me just like this when I got injured playing soccer in college."

Stella shot him a glare. "The great Adrian Roland was too proud to go to the hospital, even when sweating from pain. Couldn't let the school heartthrob image crumble."

"Half the female student body was watching. I couldn’t let them see me limping." His eyes gleamed with mischief. "Unlike you, who received twice as many love letters as I did."

"Too bad a certain jealous someone intercepted them all."

Silence settled over the room.

Adrian leaned against the headboard, pale but intense. Stella's ears burned under his gaze. "Stop staring."

"Just thinking... those were good days." His voice was barely above a whisper. "How long has it been since we talked like this?"

Her heart clenched.

"Back then."

The phrase was a dull knife slowly sawing at her chest.

"Being scolded by you was a privilege," he said suddenly.

"Don't be ridiculous—"

"It’s true."

She turned away as he continued, "Two things you should know. One good, one bad."

"The good news first."

"I've recovered all of Mr. Alistair's memories."

Her fingers twitched. "And the bad?"

"Vincent lied to you." His voice turned heavy. "Our Samoyed... has been dead for years."

Stella's grip tightened on the bedsheet.

"The airline compensated us. I just remembered." His voice grew quieter. "And Celeste... I want to bring her home."

"Where is she buried?"

"Next to the old estate. We can visit every day." He gave a bitter smile. "Though I know you don’t want to live there anymore."

Her chest constricted.

The word "forgiveness" stuck in her throat, refusing to come out.

"Mr. Alistair was just a persona—"

"Enough!" She stood abruptly. "I need space."

Adrian nodded silently.

Stella fled the room. The night air hit her face as she hailed a cab. Just as she pulled the door open, a large hand clamped over her mouth and nose.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The hospital door creaked open.

"Daddy!" A tearful child's voice rang out.

Vincent carried Celeste with an apologetic look. "She insisted on seeing you."

Adrian opened his arms, and the little girl scrambled into them, her eyes red-rimmed. "Daddy, it hurts."

"Should Daddy kiss it better?"

"Secret first!" Celeste whispered conspiratorially. "Remember what I said before your surgery?"