Chapter 40
She forced a faint smile. "I'm fine."
"Who are you trying to fool?" Joy Fairsprene grabbed her hand. "Why didn't you tell me the truth at the hospital? You're my best friend, yet you hide everything from me! If I'd known how much you've suffered these years, I would've rushed to help you immediately!"
Stella Valentine sighed softly. "Joy, thank you."
"Cut the formalities," Joy waved dismissively. "When I hit rock bottom, you were the one who pulled me up. Now it's my turn to help you. That woman surnamed Sun is Adrian Roland's mistress, isn't she? Just wait till I deal with her!"
"...There's no need."
"Why not?"
"Adrian and I are already divorced."
Joy froze, then murmured after a long pause, "I don't know what happened between you two, but what you said earlier was so satisfying. This is the Valentine family home—that Sun woman has no right to boss anyone around."
Stella shook her head. "Her surname isn't Sun."
"Huh?" Joy's eyes widened. "Isn't she your uncle's daughter? Wait, I remember you had a troublemaker uncle—the one your parents were always cleaning up after... Was that the greasy man earlier?"
Stella nodded. "Yes."
"Oh my god! If I'd known it was him, I would've refused to come!" Joy grimaced in disgust. "So ugly, yet his daughter is quite pretty. That Lily Savigny and her fake innocence make me sick. Of course men fall for that act."
Listening to Joy's rapid-fire complaints, Stella felt warmth in her chest.
These days, the only people she could let her guard down around were Mr. Alistair and Joy.
"Joy, having a friend like you is wonderful."
"Obviously," Joy hugged her tightly. "Stella, don't be afraid. If you need money, just tell me. Adrian is blind to fall for that scheming woman—let them have each other. I'll introduce you to someone better later."
Stella chuckled weakly. "Forget it. I'm too old."
"Nonsense! Twenty-six is a woman's prime. And you looked absolutely stunning today! That dress and shoes were perfect for you! When you walked in, half the men couldn't take their eyes off you! With your looks, suitors would line up around the world three times!"
Joy's playful teasing lightened Stella's mood.
Suddenly, a sharp pain stabbed through her abdomen.
She clutched her stomach, breaking out in cold sweat.
Joy panicked. "Stella! What's wrong?"
"Medicine... get my..."
"Okay!"
Joy frantically dug out the pill bottle, shaking one into her palm. "Take this, quick."
Stella swallowed the painkiller, her face deathly pale.
"Should I take you to the hospital?"
"No..." She gripped Joy's hand tightly. "Just... need to rest..."
"But you look terrible..."
Leaning against the wall, Stella closed her eyes and waited for the medication to take effect.
Unease crept into her heart.
This painkiller was supposed to last 24 hours—she'd taken one this morning. Why had it worn off so soon?
She'd already troubled that kind nurse last time and didn't want to owe more favors.
Twenty minutes later, the pain finally subsided.
Joy watched her worriedly. "Stella, what illness do you have? I can't even read the name on this medicine."
"Just stomach pain."
"Gastritis? My dad has that too, but never this severe."
A text notification chimed from Stella's phone.
Joy handed it over. "Who still uses SMS these days?"
Stella unlocked the screen.
[Where are you?]
It was Mr. Alistair.
[Outside the Valentine villa.]
[Stay there. Sending someone to pick you up.]
[Okay.]
[Stella, you did well.]
Warmth flooded her chest—then realization struck. [Are you at the Valentine house too?]
[Yes.]
Stella froze.
Victor Lefèvre had invited all of Houston's elite to bolster his image. With Mr. Alistair's wealth, of course he'd be among them.
But everyone at the event had shown their real faces.
Who could he be?
Had they already passed each other without knowing?
As she hesitated over how to respond, another message arrived: [Not feeling well?]
[I'm fine.]
[Wait there.]
[Okay.]
"Stella, who are you texting?" Joy asked curiously. "Why not use WhatsApp?"
"A friend."
"Male or female? Handsome? Rich?" Joy leaned in eagerly. "Preferably both—to make Adrian regret everything!"
Stella sighed.
Rich? Undoubtedly. Handsome? She truly didn't know—she'd never even seen Mr. Alistair's face.
As for Adrian... why would he regret anything?
Successful career, a beautiful wife, even taking their daughter—what more could he want?
Meanwhile, she'd thoroughly offended Victor today. Life would only get harder from here.
With her accounts frozen and her mother's medical bills unpaid, she couldn't keep relying on Mr. Alistair's help. And for her two children—though she couldn't watch them grow up, she at least needed to secure their futures.
"Joy, can you do me a favor?"
"Name it!"
"Could you... help me find a job?"
"What?"
"After crossing my uncle, finding work in Houston will be difficult. You're my only hope."
Joy thought for a moment. "Leave it to me. I'll contact you as soon as I have leads."
"Thank you."
Just then, a black Cayenne pulled up smoothly.
The efficient woman who'd done Stella's makeup earlier wasn't there—instead, a young male driver stepped out. "Miss Valentine, Mr. Alistair sent me to fetch you."
Joy immediately moved protectively in front of Stella.
"Joy," Stella hugged her, "thank you so much for today. I need to go now."
Only then did Joy relax. "This 'Mr. Alistair' is your texting friend?"
"Yes."
"Stella," Joy said seriously, "listen to me—cut ties with him immediately. You're young and beautiful. Don't get tricked by some old man."
Stella blinked. "Old man?"
"Anyone still using SMS has to be over sixty! My fifty-year-old dad uses WhatsApp better than I do!"