Chapter 6

"What did you say?"

Stella didn't answer. She tipped sideways and fell straight against him.

Alexander's breathing shifted in an instant.

In the dim car, the two were extremely close. He could see Stella's hazy eyes, her slightly parted lips, and smell the faint scent of alcohol mixed with her sweet perfume.

He pulled back, pushed her gently into her seat, and buckled her in. She made a vague sound of protest against the seatbelt, and mumbled, "Slow down."

Alexander ignored her.

When they arrived at the Hall Villa, he got her out of the car and rang the doorbell.

When no one answered, he sent a message to the Hall Villa's servants, briefly instructing, "She's had too much to drink, take good care of her," then turned to leave, his pace a little faster than usual.

Back at his own cold, empty villa, Alexander loosened his tie, poured himself a glass of ice water, and drank it all in one gulp.

But the heat inside him didn't subside—instead, it intensified.

The alcohol he'd had earlier wasn't sitting still, and Stella's half-conscious proximity in that car had stirred something he'd kept buried for a long time. He went to the bathroom and ran the shower cold. It still didn't help.

Her flushed skin, her watery eyes, and that soft, sweet "Uncle Alexander"

He swore under his breath, toweled off, and came out with the towel still at his waist.

He needed release, or he wouldn't be able to sleep tonight.

Just as he was about to take care of his physical needs himself, the bedroom door was gently pushed open.

Elodie stood in the doorway in a black lace nightgown, slightly leaning against the frame, voice pitched low and soft.

"Alexander, you're back."

Alexander hadn't expected her sudden appearance. His eyes instantly turned cold.

"Who told you to come?"

She flinched at the cold in his voice, then steadied herself and moved toward him. Her hand reached his chest.

He shook it off before she could press it there.

"Alexander, let me keep you company tonight, okay?"

She reached out again. He stepped back sharply, putting distance between them, his tone dropping to something final.

"Get out."

"But Alexander, I just wanted to—"

Seeing her still standing there, Alexander's tone grew even colder, like ice. "Leave."

Elodie's face turned pale, and a tear rolled down her cheek.

But Alexander just looked at her calmly, saying nothing.

She bit her lip and reluctantly turned to leave.

The room settled back into silence. Alexander moved to the window and lit a cigarette.

Through the swirling smoke, his expression was dark and unreadable.

The moment Elodie had touched him, all he'd felt was a dull, cold repulsion.

His earlier physical reaction had cooled rapidly, killing his interest completely.

But thinking of Stella—drunk, talking nonsense, even daring to touch him—he felt...

Alexander stubbed out the cigarette, but the irritation in his heart didn't fade with it.

Elodie's hollow attempt at seduction today had felt deliberate and fake, completely different from the woman that night.

Could it be that the person that night wasn't Elodie at all?

This thought made his heart sink.

But if it wasn't her, who could it have been?

Although he'd been very drunk that night, he vaguely remembered confirming her identity.

Alexander rubbed his temples, doubting his own judgment for the first time.

What bothered him even more was that in all these years, he'd never had such a strong physical response to any woman.

Was there something wrong with his body?

But why did that damn reaction come back just from remembering Stella's hazy look in the car last night?

He sighed and headed back to the bathroom.

Outside the door, Elodie returned to the guest room and hurled a pillow at the floor.

She paced, jaw tight, the careful expression she'd worn all evening completely gone.

He'd turned her away. She'd gone to him dressed like that, and he'd looked at her like she was something inconvenient.

"Why?"

She muttered to herself, jealousy flashing in her eyes.

"What's so great about Stella? A spoiled rich girl—besides her family background, what does she have that's better than me?"

She recalled the news she'd heard from the Brown family servants during the day—that Alexander had shown little interest in women all these years, and some people even whispered privately about whether he had some kind of problem.

But if that were true, why did he seem so unsettled every time Stella was nearby?

Elodie's hands curled into fists at her sides.

No, she absolutely couldn't lose her position as Alexander's wife!

Stella had to stay away from Alexander.

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the curtain gaps into the room. Stella groggily turned over and habitually called out, "Elodie, what time is it? Why didn't you wake me..."

Halfway through, she suddenly became fully awake.

The room was empty. She was alone.

Elodie had already moved out.

A wave of loss washed over Stella as she slowly got up and washed.

When she went downstairs for breakfast, Mason was sitting at the dining table reading the newspaper.

"Dad, good morning."

He looked up and nodded.

"Is Elodie settling in okay at the dorm? You didn't say much yesterday."

Stella busied herself with the toast, keeping her hands occupied. "She's fine. Said it's not bad."

Mason made a quiet sound and shook his head. "Ten years she's been part of this house. We're all going to feel the gap. When you get a chance, go check on her — a girl on her own always runs into small inconveniences."

"I will."

She meant it, but the words came out flat.

After breakfast, she hesitated for a long time before finally calling Elodie.

The phone rang for a while before someone picked up.

"Hello." Elodie's voice was somewhat cold.

"It's me." Stella tried to keep her tone light. "Did you sleep well yesterday? Is the room comfortable? If you need anything, I can come by after work—"

"No need." Elodie cut her off, her tone distant.

"Everything's fine here. You should focus more on your own work instead of always worrying about my business."

"That's not what I meant—"

"I have class."

The line went dead. Stella sat there with the dial tone for a moment before setting the phone down.

What was wrong with Elodie? They never used to talk to each other like this.

She walked into the Brown Group feeling down. In the elevator, Stella's mind was full of Elodie's cold attitude, and she didn't notice who entered when the elevator doors opened.

She bumped straight into a solid chest, and an arm wrapped around her waist in time, steadying her.

The touch was gentle yet firm, and strangely familiar.

Stella looked up and met Alexander's deep eyes.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Brown." She stepped back quickly, heat rushing into her face.

Alexander withdrew his hand, his fingertips seemingly still retaining the sensation of that slender waist.