Chapter 59

Stella Valentine whirled around, her gaze piercing through the revolving doors of the hotel.

The familiar black Cayenne was pulling up to the entrance.

Her heartbeat accelerated instantly.

Mr. Alistair never appeared during daylight—their meetings always took place in darkened rooms.

Yet now, the sun blazed overhead.

The car door opened. Polished leather shoes stepped out, followed by long legs clad in silver-gray suit pants.

A tall, imposing figure emerged from the driver's seat.

His back was turned as he spoke with the valet.

Stella held her breath, watching as he turned—

"Miss Valentine." A young man approached with a smile. "Mr. Alistair sent me to fetch you."

Not him.

Just the same driver who'd taken her to the Shi residence last time.

Her brows furrowed slightly. "Now?"

"Yes. He insisted it's urgent."

Mr. Alistair needed her—for something urgent?

She couldn't fathom what it might be.

Oliver's mother approached timidly. "Miss Valentine, have I caused trouble for you again?"

She kept bowing apologetically to the hotel manager.

The manager hastily steadied her. "We'd never dare inconvenience Miss Valentine—"

The driver arched an eyebrow. "What's going on?"

"Nothing important." Stella cut in. "Mr. Alistair's business takes priority."

She cast a final glance at Oliver and his mother. "Please look after them, Manager."

"Of course!" The manager fawned with exaggerated nods.

Stella followed the driver into the car.

Through the rearview mirror, she studied his profile.

He chuckled. "If you keep staring like that, Mr. Alistair might get jealous."

"What should I call you?"

"Charlie Macmillan. Just Charlie is fine."

"Why does Mr. Alistair need me?"

"I'm just driving you to a seafood restaurant. That's all I know."

"Seafood?"

"Not his usual preference, but maybe he's craving something different."

Thirty minutes later, the car stopped before a dilapidated seafood shack.

Stella froze.

This was the polar opposite of the upscale venues she'd envisioned.

"Private room 005. He's waiting." Charlie urged.

The hostess blocked her path. "Sorry, we're fully booked today."

"My friend reserved room 005."

The hostess's demeanor shifted instantly. "This way, please!"

The staircase was long and steep.

Her abdominal wound throbbed with each step, sharp as a blade.

She discreetly swallowed a painkiller.

"Here we are." The server pushed open the private room door.

It was empty.

"My friend hasn't arrived?"

"He prepaid for our premium dining package."

Apparently, Mr. Alistair wasn't coming.

She texted him: 【I'm here】

The reply came instantly: 【Good】

【Are you coming?】

【No】

【What should I do?】

【Eat well】

Stella didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

He'd made her cross the entire city... just for a meal?

The room's thin walls carried voices from next door—

"Mom, Adrian seems suspicious. He keeps asking where I was when Martha died."

"Don't panic! He has no proof. Focus on getting that marriage certificate!"

"He's been avoiding me lately..."

"Blame Stella's brat! Did you get the old mansion's address?"

"No. By the way, I saw her buy a three-million-dollar diamond ring!"

"Either it's Adrian's guilt money, or—"

"He despises Stella. No way he'd give her anything."

"Then she's got a new sugar daddy. Not many men in Houston spend like that..."

Stella's grip tightened around her water glass.

So this mother-daughter duo had been scheming against Adrian all along.