Chapter 94

Sunlight filtered through the curtains as I slowly opened my eyes.

The familiar antiseptic smell told me I'd woken up in a hospital room again.

Little Luna curled against me, sleeping soundly. I gently stroked her soft hair, noticing how my sleeping position had been adjusted to protectively cradle her.

Mr. Alistair must have done this.

I rubbed my itchy nose. His cologne last night had been overpowering, and its sharp scent still lingered faintly.

Getting up, I pushed open the window to let the morning breeze carry away the traces of his fragrance. Luna was too young for such strong scents.

The sudden ringtone startled me.

The name flashing on screen was no surprise.

"Mr. Valois?"

Engine noises rumbled through the phone as Julian Valois spoke cheerfully: "Miss Valentine, did you sleep well last night?"

I remembered counting stars in his arms until I drifted off—a rare dreamless night.

"Very well."

His low chuckle vibrated through the receiver. "Good. Proper rest is the best medicine."

"And you?"

"I slept wonderfully." His tone shifted abruptly. "About that custom jewelry set—any design ideas yet?"

The forced subject change was obvious.

I understood his intention—Julian Valois by day, Mr. Alistair by night. He wouldn't blur those lines.

"Could you describe the recipient? Age, personality, usual occasions..."

"You decide." His voice softened. "I trust your taste."

Words failed me.

"No rush," he added lightly. "Just making conversation. You sound better—that's what matters."

"I'm fine."

"Call me anytime."

"Alright."

"Goodbye."

"See you tonight."

I immediately regretted it.

After a brief silence, his deep laugh came through. "If that comforts you, think what you will."

"...Thank you."

"No need." A pause. "I'll remember about the cologne."

Hanging up left me unsettled.

If he chose to maintain this facade, I wouldn't pry. Yet his history with Joy Fairsprene still pricked at my heart like a splinter.

That splinter was yanked out unexpectedly—Joy visited that afternoon with her "boyfriend."

My jaw nearly dropped when I saw him.

"He's...really your boyfriend?"

Joy clung to the man's arm affectionately. "Surprise!"

No surprise—just sheer shock.

Harry Vance, the A-list actor before me, constantly appeared in tabloids with a different woman each month. Though not a fan, even I recognized him.

I managed a stiff nod.

Harry smiled easily. "Miss Valentine, Joy's told me so much about you."

"Excuse us—I need a word with Joy."

Dragging her into the bathroom, I hissed: "Are you serious? How long have you known him?"

"Met at a party last week." She waved dismissively. "Relax, it's fake—just to get my parents off my back."

"But this is too..."

"Zachary Ellison and his friends won't cut it!" She rolled her eyes. "If I picked them, my parents would start planning weddings immediately."

I bit my lip.

"Stella, after seeing what happened between you and Adrian, I'm done with marriage." She patted my shoulder. "Harry's a celebrity—we can drag this out for twenty years. Perfect!"

Her words stung.

"But his reputation..."

"Mutual benefits." She winked. "I brought him to show you—I won't interfere with you and Julian."

Tears pricked my eyes. "Joy..."

"Sisters before misters!" Grabbing the water pitcher, she headed out. "Be right back."

Returning to the room, I found Harry scrolling through his phone. He offered a polite smile.

The silence grew suffocating.

Then the door burst open.

"That was fast—" I turned, then froze.

Adrian Roland stood in the doorway, his glare slicing toward Harry as his lips curled coldly. "Stella, quite the popular divorcee?"

"He's not—"

"Harry Vance." Adrian strode forward, extending a hand. "Visiting my ex-wife?"

Harry shook it blankly. "Yes—"

The sentence ended with Adrian's fist smashing into his face—