Chapter 381

The door slammed shut with a heavy thud.

Vincent Atlante paced back with a cigarette dangling from his lips, the ember flickering in the dim room. He looked down at Stella Valentine curled on the floor and exhaled a smoke ring. "Heard everything clearly?"

Stella turned her face away, her long hair obscuring half of her cheek.

"This face sure comes in handy," he flicked the ash, "Even the hotel staff recognized you. Must've come here often for your little rendezvous."

Perhaps this unexpected episode improved Vincent's mood, his tone carrying an unusual casualness.

"You want to know?" Stella suddenly spoke.

Vincent raised an eyebrow and sat on the bed's edge, crossing his legs leisurely. "Entertain me."

She struggled to lift her bound hands. "Untie me first. My phone's broken, the staff's gone. I can't run."

Vincent narrowed his eyes, twirling the cigarette between his fingers.

"Twelfth floor," Stella said calmly. "A jump would be fatal."

"Heard you're a jewelry designer?" Vincent asked abruptly.

"Yes."

"Then these hands must be precious." His smile turned meaningful. "Should take good care of them."

He suddenly pressed the burning cigarette against the rope. The flame hissed as it caught.

The searing pain made Stella's entire body tense, but she didn't utter a sound.

When the rope burned through, she swiftly withdrew her hands. The blistering burns around her wrists looked horrifying.

"Quite the endurance," Vincent whistled. "Others would've been screaming bloody murder."

Stella gently touched her wounds. "Not even a tenth of what I've endured before."

"Childbirth?" Vincent scoffed. "Three kids for Adrian Roland. How devoted."

"The first was an accident." Her voice softened. "The night before our wedding, a car crash took my father and his parents."

"Serves them right." Vincent blew smoke rings.

"He believed my father's drunk driving killed his parents. My uncle Victor seized Roland Group. He hated me for it."

Vincent burst into laughter. "So he thought you were in on it too?"

"I fled overseas when pregnant. The baby went straight to ICU after birth. Stayed five years."

"That smart boy?" Vincent tapped his cigarette. "Spitting image of Adrian."

"To save him, I needed another child with Adrian for the cord blood."

"Hence the daughter." Vincent's eyes narrowed. "Heard you had lung cancer then?"

Stella nodded. "Nine months without treatment."

The room fell silent.

Vincent stubbed out his cigarette. "I respect your grit." He suddenly leaned closer. "But the Rolands will pay in blood."

Stella's pupils constricted.

"Relax," he grinned. "I settle scores clean. Your kids never wronged me. After dealing with Adrian and the old man, I'll give you money. Take them far away."

This twist stunned Stella.

"Now, time for my story." Vincent lit another cigarette. "Someone should remember I existed."

Through the swirling smoke, his voice drifted like distant echoes:

"Human traffickers bought me for fifty grand. Sold and resold countless times. Ended up in some backwater, nursing sickly foster parents."

"Stole, cheated, did everything. Nearly got beaten to death once. Until that day—" He suddenly chuckled. "Saw a face identical to mine on a street-side TV."

"All suited up, surrounded by admirers. They said it was the heir to Roland Group."