Chapter 1

At 30 weeks pregnant, Stella Roberts caught her husband, Tristan Somerton, cheating at the hospital.

Clad in a black coat, the tall and striking Tristan held the fragile, radiant woman in a white fur coat close. Her features were perfectly doll-like, and her rosy cheeks were visible beneath her soft wool scarf.

Stella clenched her prenatal test slip until her fingers turned white. The cold wind bit at her cheeks, but the sharper chill came from the stab of her own heart.

From a distance, Tristan saw her, yet he showed no trace of guilt. His expression was calm and indifferent as he personally opened the car door for the woman.

She seemed to notice Stella. She froze, glancing at her with curiosity before turning to Tristan and asking, "Who's that old lady staring at you, Tris? Do you know her?"

The wind howled past Stella's ears.

She didn't catch the woman's words, but she could read her lips and recognized the words "old lady".

It had to be her.

Stella let out a bitter laugh. She was only 24, but everything about her made her seem decades older—her plain features, her slightly heavy build lost in a puffy black coat and knit hat, the cumbersome weight of late-term pregnancy, and the deep weariness etched on her face.

She could never compare to the young, radiant woman before her.

Tristan helped the woman into the car.

Stella stood frozen, watching the car disappear.

She and Tristan had married because she got pregnant. To a man like Tristan, this forced marriage was a stain on his perfect life. The baby in Stella's womb was nothing more than a tool to compel him.

He despised Stella.

She had adored him for eight years. Deep down, she had known she didn't deserve him. All she could do was strive relentlessly and study hard, treating him as a model for her own life. Finally, she had succeeded, becoming his assistant and standing close to him.

That night had destroyed everything. Not only did it ruin Tristan's image in her mind, but it also mercilessly shattered every ounce of pride and dignity she had held in his presence.

She would never forget the disgust in his eyes afterward, as if she were something vile he had touched. Only a woman as young and beautiful as the one from earlier could ever deserve him.

A hot tear slipped from Stella's eye, and a sharp pain shot through her abdomen. She hurriedly cradled her belly, bracing herself against a nearby stone pillar.

A nurse passing by saw her and rushed over, leading Stella to a consultation room. It turned out the stress had affected the baby.

Once Stella calmed down, she left the hospital, dragging her exhausted body to the car and driving back to Tristan's villa at Sentella Bay.

Tristan's grandmother, Eloise Brown, had arranged for experienced housekeepers from the Somerton residence to take care of Stella.

At that moment, the two housekeepers, Lily Landon and Freya Ford, were lounging in the warm, well-heated living room. They were enjoying their food, chatting and laughing, when they heard a sound at the door.

They turned toward the entrance and saw that Stella had returned.

One of them rose, stepping forward with an air of contempt. "How did the prenatal checkup go?"

Though she was supposed to be looking after Stella, she acted more like a spy monitoring the lady of the house.

Stella merely cast a cold, indifferent glance at her and ignored her, heading straight for the stairs.

The housekeeper frowned in irritation. "I'm talking to you."

Stella ignored her again.

The housekeeper glared at Stella as she walked off and muttered with disgust, "She looks like a fat pig. Does she really think she's Mrs. Somerton? What a joke."

Stella went into her bedroom and sat on the bed's edge, feeling adrift and hollow. She had never been accepted by Tristan or the Somertons.

Eloise had insisted on their marriage, but it was only because Tristan's grandfather, David Somerton, was gravely ill and Stella happened to be pregnant. They had arranged the marriage in hopes of bringing David joy and celebrating two blessings at once.

Whether by coincidence or because it truly had lifted David's spirits, his health gradually improved. Only then did Eloise's attitude toward Stella soften. However, the rest of the Somertons remained openly disdainful.

Stella had gone to the hospital that day to determine the sex of her baby. It was a girl. Eloise had likely already received word from the hospital.

Just then, Stella's phone buzzed. She shook off her thoughts and reached into her bag. Yet when she saw the incoming call, she paused. It was her mentor, Hayden Jenkins.

"Professor Jenkins," she greeted him as soon as the call connected.

"There's an opening for doctoral studies at Brookfield University. Would you like to try?" Hayden asked.

Stella froze, stunned by the offer.

Hayden sensed her hesitation and added, "You don't have to—"

"I'll go," Stella responded immediately.

For a moment, Hayden said nothing. He understood better than anyone how much effort Stella had poured into getting close to Tristan. With her goal finally realized, there was no way she would walk away.

He had considered it carefully, and after much thought, he was certain she was the only one truly qualified for the spot.

"Professor Jenkins," Stella said again.

"Come to my office tomorrow morning at ten," Hayden instructed.

"Sure," Stella agreed.

He hung up without another word.

Stella set the phone down and exhaled deeply. A strange sense of clarity washed over her, as if the clouds had parted to reveal the moon. She needed to face reality. A man who didn't love her would never be bound by the baby she carried.

Soon after, she received another call. It was from Eloise, summoning her to the Somerton residence. Stella agreed, thinking it was likely about her unborn daughter.

She finally felt a spark of energy.

First, she headed to the bathroom for a long, hot shower.

At the vanity, Stella gazed at her reflection. Her swollen, round face was framed by dark circles and hollowed eyes, while scattered spots marred her cheeks. The toll of exhaustion was unmistakable, and she barely looked like herself anymore.

Who could blame anyone for recoiling from her? How could she ever measure up to someone as exceptional as Tristan?

She applied her makeup carefully, slipped into a pink down jacket, and placed a white wool hat atop her head. The small changes made her look much more put together.

She had originally planned to drive to the Somerton residence herself, but as she stepped out, her phone rang.

Tristan's calm, indifferent voice came through. "Come out."

Stella froze for a moment. Eloise must have summoned him to the Somerton residence as well.

"Alright," she replied softly.

When she left the villa, she saw his Rolls-Royce parked at the gate—the same car another woman had been in two hours ago.

She drew a deep breath, stepped forward, and opened the car door.

A faint, sweet, girlish scent of perfume drifted from the seat. On the dashboard sat a small pink teddy bear—it clearly belonged to the young woman who had been there earlier.

Stella's gaze flicked to Tristan's wrist, which had a hair tie looped around it. She knew it was the woman's subtle way of staking her claim on him. Tristan must care for her deeply.

Suppressing the bitter ache in her chest, Stella slid into the seat and buckled her seatbelt.

The driver started the car, and they pulled away smoothly.

She gazed out the window silently.

In the past, she had treasured any moment alone with him. She would seize the chance to draw close to him, even if he looked at her with utter disdain. She would have filled the silence with endless chatter, hoping to catch a sliver of his attention.

She once believed that if she just played her part as a devoted wife and mother, perhaps one day Tristan would notice her.

She had only been deceiving herself.

Tristan had never cared about her feelings.

His voice remained cold and detached as he asked, "What's the baby's gender?"

Chapter 2

Stella answered promptly, "It's a girl."

Tristan's expression remained unreadable.

"Once the baby is born, we'll get a divorce," he said coldly.

As soon as he said those words, Stella's fingers clenched tightly. Her heart felt as if it were being wrenched in two, and her breath caught painfully in her chest. She had long expected that this marriage would never last, but hearing him say it aloud still cut sharply.

She bit her lip and said, "Fine."

A flicker of surprise crossed Tristan's eyes at her swift acquiescence, but he didn't probe further.

Stella continued, "Tomorrow is Monday. Do you have time in the afternoon? We could go ahead and submit the paperwork at the courthouse. Two months in advance shouldn't matter, right?"

After they signed the divorce agreement, there would still be a one-month cooling-off period, and Stella's due date was approaching.

Tristan regarded her, looking calm and composed as usual, though a hint of scrutiny flickered in his eyes. He looked away and said, "We'll do it when I say it's time."

Stella lowered her eyes and said nothing further.

…

The car pulled over at the Somerton residence. Eloise had indeed called them over because of the baby.

The Somertons were a family of mostly sons, with few daughters.

Eloise had two sons—Zack Somerton, her eldest, and Harry Somerton, her youngest.

Zack had two sons of his own. His elder son, Todd Somerton, had married a few years ago and fathered five-year-old twin boys. His younger son, Theodore Somerton, was 24 and unmarried.

Meanwhile, Tristan was Harry's only son.

Knowing Stella was expecting a baby girl, both Eloise and David were overjoyed.

"It really is wonderful news," Eloise said. "Now that the little one is coming, the old man's health has improved."

Seeing how much Eloise valued the baby, Tristan's mother, Yelena Walters, offered a few polite words to Stella.

Stella remained seated quietly, acknowledging them obediently.

Though Yelena found Stella's plump figure and submissive demeanor unpleasant, she refrained from showing her disdain out of respect for Eloise.

Eloise was in a good mood and presented Stella with a valuable emerald bracelet. Stunned, Stella tried to refuse.

Yelena interjected, "It's from Mom. Take it."

Stella gave in, accepting the bracelet with a small smile. "Thank you, Mrs. Somerton Senior."

Eloise said, "Take care of yourself and have a healthy, chubby baby."

Stella nodded politely, knowing full well that Eloise's kindness was not for her sake alone.

Originally, she and Tristan were to stay at the Somerton residence for dinner. Yet, Tristan received a phone call that evening.

A hint of warmth broke through Tristan's cold expression. It appeared he and that young woman shared a pet.

"Coco," he said gently.

If he had married the right woman, he might have turned out to be a truly caring father.

"Alright, I'll be right there," he said before ending the call.

As Tristan turned on the balcony and stepped back inside, he saw Stella standing there. Startled, she froze for a moment, then looked up at him. His expression was icy and unreadable.

Her chest tightened, and she hurriedly said, "Mrs. Somerton Senior wants you in the study."

Tristan said nothing and strode away.

A sharp ache gripped Stella's chest, leaving her rooted to the spot. She didn't know how long she remained there before she finally managed to collect herself.

Meanwhile, when Tristan entered the study, Eloise and David were already there.

"Tristan," Eloise began. "I know you don't like Stella, but the baby will be born soon. She's intelligent, well-educated from a prestigious university, and gentle by nature. Your marriage needs stability, and she is precisely the type of woman who can manage a household and raise a child properly."

Tristan remained silent, though the deep frown on his face betrayed his irritation.

Eloise realized right away that Stella's modest appearance made her seem mismatched beside Tristan.

David said calmly, "This isn't the time to make any big changes. Even if you don't care for her, as long as she doesn't do anything out of line, it's better to just let things be for a year or two."

Eloise nodded. "Everyone is watching you, waiting for you to slip up. Let her focus on raising the child first. If she has to leave later, it will be much simpler."

Tristan remained silent for a few moments, his deep, calm features betraying nothing. Finally, he said, "I understand, Grandpa, Grandma."

…

When Stella saw Eloise again, the older woman turned to her and said, "Tristan has urgent matters to deal with at the company and had to leave. I'll have the driver take you home later."

Stella nodded. "Alright."

Before Stella left, Eloise offered her some advice. "Even though you're pregnant, you must stay active and take care of yourself. When Yelena was expecting, she attended social events with Harry while managing the household. Some things come easily, but keeping them long-term is never simple."

Stella understood immediately. Being a daughter-in-law in the Somerton family was no easy task. If she wanted to secure her place, she needed to make some changes. In her current state, she was only bringing shame to Tristan.

She had tried once—exercising, doing yoga, and dieting—but her determination faltered. Exhaustion and self-doubt left her heavier and more defeated.

Eloise was right. She couldn't stay down like this. It wasn't for anyone else, but for herself and her future.

"I understand, Mrs. Somerton Senior," Stella said.

…

When night fell, Stella was surprised to see Tristan, the same man who had brought up divorce that morning, return home.

"You—" she began.

"Make me some tea and bring it to my study," Tristan said without looking up.

Then he went upstairs. Stella snapped out of it. She headed into the kitchen to brew some tea before carrying it up to the study for him.

Tristan was focused on the documents on his desk. His features were sharp and distant, exuding a cold, aloof air, as though he were completely out of reach. She set the tea down without a word and quietly left the study.

Even though he was home, they still slept in separate rooms. Tristan took the master bedroom upstairs, while Stella stayed in the guest room on the first floor.

Since Tristan was home the next morning, the housekeepers had laid out a full breakfast. He sat at the head of the table but noticed Stella was nowhere in sight.

Normally, she would have been there, ironing his clothes for the day and preparing breakfast herself, fulfilling all the duties of a perfect wife.

But this morning, his clothes were untouched, and breakfast had been made by the housekeepers.

"Where is she?" Tristan asked impatiently.

Lily didn't hold back and complained, "She stayed in bed all morning and refused to get up. We have to take her meals to her room every day, and she barely speaks to us.

"When we ask her what she wants, she won't answer. We're not her servants. She's only pregnant. When your mother was pregnant with you, she handled everything flawlessly, but this one acts like it's a free pass to relax."

Tristan frowned. "Go wake her up."

"Yes, Mr. Somerton."

Stella had been quietly waiting for Tristan to leave when Lily barged in and saw her sitting on the sofa.

Lily scoffed. "Well, if it isn't Mrs. Somerton. Were you expecting someone to wait on you?"

Stella looked up calmly. "I'm not. Are you?"

Over the past few months, Stella had kept her head down. Lily had never expected her to talk back.

"If you treat me like that again, don't be surprised if I tell Mrs. Somerton Senior everything you've been up to," Stella said.

Since she was getting divorced, she had nothing to lose. She wasn't going to let anyone push her around during these last two months.

Lily's eyes widened. Yelena had reminded her to be careful and look after Stella well. Even though Stella was expecting a girl, the baby was the only daughter in three generations of the Somerton family. That alone made her lucky, and Eloise had taken a special interest in her pregnancy.

Lily suppressed her irritation. At last, she said, "Mr. Somerton is waiting for you in the dining room."

That took Stella by surprise. When she walked into the dining room, Tristan was already eating. He looked up as she approached. Her white knitted dress stretched across her swollen frame, and her large belly made each step unsteady.

Tristan frowned.

Feeling his gaze, Stella sat as far from him as she could.

Tristan calmly said, "Lily and the others work at the Somerton residence. You can't have them attend to your every whim. You're only pregnant. It's not like you can't move."

For Tristan, the baby was likely inconsequential. His lecture indicated Lily had been complaining, though it certainly wasn't the first time.

"If they won't attend to me, they can return to the Somerton residence. I can take care of myself," Stella said, quietly stirring her bowl of oatmeal.

She handled her meals, did her laundry, and cleaned her room alone, while the housekeepers only pretended to help when Tristan was nearby.

The crease between Tristan's brows told Stella all she needed to know. He demanded control in every aspect of life and wouldn't tolerate anyone going against him.

Chapter 3

"That was a reminder, not an invitation for your opinion," Tristan said coldly.

Stella kept her head down and stayed quiet.

Tristan looked at the dull, lifeless expression on her face, and his own darkened even further. Then he ordered Lily and Freya not to wait on her anymore. From now on, she was to handle her own affairs.

Stella's grip on her fork tightened.

After breakfast, Tristan left. Meanwhile, Stella went to Afferson University and headed straight to Hayden's office.

A young man sat behind the desk, dressed neatly in a tailored suit with rimless glasses tracing the line of his sharp nose. His composed demeanor gave him an air of maturity that belied his age.

At only 29, Hayden was the youngest full-time professor in the university's department of finance and a prodigy widely recognized in the financial world.

She raised her hand and knocked on the door.

Hayden looked up. For a moment, he froze, not recognizing the woman in the doorway. It was only when Stella spoke that his expression shifted.

"Professor Jenkins."

He smoothed his expression almost instantly, hiding his surprise. "Come in."

Stella removed her mask and stepped into the office. "It's been a while, Professor Jenkins."

Hayden smiled gently. "It has. I almost didn't recognize you."

Stella gave a faint, self-mocking smile. "I barely had the courage to come and see you looking like this."

Hayden stood and walked around the desk. "It's normal for your body to change during pregnancy. You'll recover after you give birth."

He gestured toward the couch. "Have a seat."

Stella sank onto the cushions.

Hayden poured her a cup of warm water. "Here. Warm yourself up."

She accepted it. "Thank you."

His gaze swept over her rounded belly briefly. "How far along are you?"

Stella replied, "30 weeks."

Hayden nodded. "By the time the spring semester starts in mid-January, you'll be right at your due date."

Stella leaned forward slightly. "I wanted to ask for your help. Is it possible for me to defer my admission?"

Childbirth was something she couldn't avoid, but she truly didn't want to lose this opportunity.

Hayden's expression grew serious. "Why do you want to go to Brookfield University?"

Stella lowered her eyes. "Tristan plans to divorce me once the baby is born. I have no desire to drag this miserable marriage out any longer. I want to start over."

Seven months was neither long nor short, but to her, it felt like an entire lifetime.

Hayden frowned slightly. The once bright and cheerful Stella had changed so drastically in such a short time. It was clear how much she had endured.

"I'm glad you've come to your senses and are ready to pull yourself back together again. You and Tristan never suited each other. One day, you'll meet someone who truly loves you."

Stella nodded.

Hayden had opposed her decision to become Tristan's assistant back then. Yet she insisted and brought disaster upon herself.

Suddenly, she asked, "Professor Jenkins, what kind of person do you think Tristan really is?"

Hayden fell silent for a moment before he answered, "He's someone who will sacrifice anything to achieve his goals—someone who puts profit above all else. A man like that rarely possesses the capacity for love."

"Is that so?"

Yet the tenderness Tristan showed that other woman couldn't have been an illusion. A man only lowered his pride like that when he was hopelessly in love.

Only beautiful, flawless women were worthy of him.

Stella didn't press Hayden any further.

"Since you've already made up your mind, I can help you apply for deferred admission when the time comes."

"Thank you, Professor Jenkins."

Hayden handed her an application form, and Stella filled it out quickly.

"Are you planning to leave the baby with the Somertons after she's born?" he asked suddenly.

Stella gave a tired, helpless smile. Even if she wanted to take the baby with her, it would be impossible. All she could do was feel sorry for her baby.

"The Somertons will take good care of her."

Hayden let the subject drop. "I happen to need an assistant for about a month. Do you want to give it a try?"

Stella agreed without a moment's hesitation.

"Alright."

Ever since she became pregnant, Tristan had reassigned her to an insignificant position in the secretarial department. She went from being an executive assistant to a barely noticed staff member overnight. All her years of work were wiped out in a single stroke.

She truly needed a new job—something to shift her attention away from the wreckage and help her start rebuilding her life. It would also prepare her for her future studies.

Since she had already taken the day off, Stella stayed on campus and began working as Hayden's assistant. She had been his mentee before, and after working under Tristan at such an intense, demanding pace for so long, even months of burnout couldn't erase her skills. She picked things up quickly and handled everything with practiced ease.

For a brief moment, Stella felt like she had found herself again. She felt her sense of self-worth returning. Just as Hayden had said, she was meant to shine in her career. Love should never have been the center of her life.

…

That night, Tristan didn't go home. He only bothered to show up once in a while, and Stella was past the point of caring.

The next morning, she prepared her resignation letter.

Tristan oversaw Somerton Corporation's entire financial division, from the banks to the investment funds. In a world filled with backstabbing and bloodshed, he had managed to take over the corporation's core industries and continue expanding them. It proved he had not only a brilliant mind and remarkable skills but also a cold, unwavering heart.

When Stella arrived at the company, she happened to see Tristan stepping out of his car.

He was tall and dressed impeccably, radiating a quiet, masculine confidence. His wealth and power only made him seem more captivating.

"Mr. Somerton."

The employees greeted him respectfully as he passed.

Snapping out of her daze, Stella lowered her head and stepped back.

Tristan walked right past her as if she didn't exist.

Stella handed her resignation to Sheila Bond, Tristan's secretary. She had once reported to Stella, but now the tables had turned.

Back then, everyone had been shocked when Stella was abruptly demoted. She was just a fresh graduate from Afferson University when she landed the position of executive assistant. That job required more than just abilities—one's appearance mattered too.

Stella had plain looks and an average figure, yet she had been chosen anyway. That alone proved her capabilities far outweighed anything superficial. Even the stern Tristan had once praised her.

However, Sheila saw her differently.

To Sheila, Stella was nothing more than a shameless social climber, a woman hoping to sleep her way to the top. No matter how capable she was, she was trash in Sheila's eyes.

Maybe that was why Tristan despised Stella so much.

Sheila glanced at the resignation letter, then let her gaze drift to Stella's pregnant belly. Her lips curled into a mocking smile.

"People ought to know their place. Take a good look in the mirror. Just because you're pregnant doesn't mean you can latch onto the Somertons. You should know exactly what kind of people the Somertons are, and what you are in comparison."

No one at the company knew Stella and Tristan were already legally married.

Chapter 4

Sheila ordered, "Finish the financial report analysis for Newmount Corporation by the end of lunch."

Stella returned to her desk.

Even though she had been reassigned to a low-level position in the secretarial department, Sheila still piled tasks on her that weren't technically her responsibility.

Still, Stella had taken them all without complaint. She worked diligently, day after day, fooling herself. Tristan would never spare her more than a passing glance.

Once she finished the report analysis, Stella handed both the digital and printed copies to Sheila and then ordered lunch for herself.

The company had a cafeteria, but she usually brought her own lunch. She hated crowded places—she didn't like the constant scrutiny of others and interacting with people. She just wanted to be alone and have some peace and quiet.

Since she hadn't prepared lunch that morning, she had to settle for takeout.

While she was waiting, some colleagues returned from their lunch break, chatting excitedly as they walked into the office.

"Mr. Somerton's girlfriend is so young. She's still in college, right?"

"Probably. She's gorgeous, like a real-life doll."

"Did you catch the way he looked at her? I swear, his eyes were practically overflowing with affection. Who knew the ice-king CEO could be so gentle?"

The two walked past Stella's desk, only to notice her sitting there like a statue.

Ever since she had been transferred to the secretarial department, she kept to herself and barely interacted with anyone unless it was for work. Over the months, she had grown more withdrawn and even started to wear a mask as though she were hiding from the world.

It was hard to imagine that less than a year ago, she had been the high-profile executive assistant.

When the deliveryman called, she got up.

Downstairs, she ran into two hotel staff carrying meals who were asking the receptionists for directions. A receptionist swiped a card, granting the hotel staff access to the CEO's private elevator.

One of them held a bottle of red wine worth roughly 200 thousand dollars. To Tristan, that was mere pocket change—he could earn that much in under a minute.

Stella collected her food—a tuna sandwich—and headed back upstairs.

By 2:00 pm, Sheila came over to her. "Mr. Somerton wants to see you."

Stella's heart skipped a beat. She had a bad feeling that she knew all too well.

As expected, the moment she entered the CEO's office, the tense, oppressive atmosphere hit her. She approached the desk and greeted softly, "Mr. Somerton."

Tristan lifted his gaze. His handsome features were sharp and cold. With a flick of his hand, he threw a stack of papers at her.

"Is this the analysis report you made?"

The edge of the A4 sheets brushed against her cheek, sending a sharp sting through her skin. She looked down at the papers scattered at her feet. It was the report she had completed that morning.

Supporting her belly with one hand, she bent down carefully to pick up the documents.

Tristan watched her in silence.

As Stella examined the report in her hands, she immediately noticed several errors. She tried to explain, "Mr. Somerton, this isn't the report I prepared."

"Enough. I don't want to hear your excuses."

Stella gripped the papers tightly.

Tristan knew how competent she was better than anyone, yet he still chose to condemn her. She felt wretched and foolish, knowing the man she had loved so fiercely detested her this much.

Closing her eyes, she drew a steadying breath and opened them with renewed resolve.

"I have a backup. I can send it to you now for review. You can scold me afterward if you like, but at least you'll see the correct report."

Tristan's dark eyes narrowed, and a flicker of displeasure crossed his face.

Stella's nerves were taut. Some part of her had always feared Tristan without reason or logic, and the moment his expression chilled, she wouldn't dare to speak, much less defend herself.

She forced herself to stay calm. They would get divorced soon. She would give him exactly what he wanted, and once she walked out of this place, she would never return. She no longer had expectations of him, so what was left to fear?

"Do you feel wronged?"

His voice cut through the air like shards of ice.

Stella met his cold, sharp gaze. Her fingernails dug deep into her palms as she steadied herself. "You accused me without even asking what happened. Am I not allowed to defend myself, Mr. Somerton?"

Tristan's expression turned utterly frosty. "You brought this on yourself."

Pain ripped through her chest, making the color drain from her face.

At that moment, the door to the lounge opened.

A young woman stepped out, dressed in a blush-pink silk slip dress. Her glossy black hair cascaded down her shoulders. Her porcelain skin glowed, and her features were so delicate and lovely that it was impossible to look away.

"Tris."

Her voice was soft and sweet, warm enough to melt frost.

Stella finally got a clear look at her. The woman was beautiful—stunning enough to make anyone feel small.

Stella had barely glanced at the woman for a second when Tristan barked, "Get out!"

Stella averted her eyes. She swallowed the wave of emotion rising in her throat, turned, and walked out of the office.

The moment she stepped into the corridor, she heard the woman's gentle murmur behind her, calming Tristan down almost instantly.

Stella lifted her chin, willing back the tears stinging her eyes.

She found an empty stairwell and braced one hand against the railing as her composure finally shattered. Tears streamed down her face as her stomach twisted with pain.

Letting go of an eight-year love felt like scraping bone from flesh, but she forced herself to accept it. She would survive. She would learn to forget him.

Stella had no idea how long she stayed there before she finally composed herself. As she made her way back to her desk, she came face-to-face with the woman she had seen earlier.

She was dressed head to toe in custom designer pieces, carrying the effortless grace of a woman raised in comfort. Micah Shaw, Tristan's personal assistant, escorted her himself.

When she saw Stella, she walked over with a warm smile and stopped in front of her. "It's alright now. Tris won't blame you anymore."

She reached into her purse, took out a pearl, then gently lifted Stella's hand and placed it in her palm. "This is for you. Don't be sad, and take care of the cut on your face. Scars are never good for a woman."

What a beautiful, kindhearted woman. Next to her radiance, Stella felt like some small creature dragged from the shadows.

When Stella didn't respond, Micah frowned and said coldly, "Aren't you going to thank Ms. York?"

It appeared her surname was York.

Audrey York pulled her hand back and offered a gentle smile. "It's fine. Come on, let's go."

The two walked away.

Stella remained frozen, staring at the silver-blue Aurion pearl in her palm.

It was flawless, pure, just like the woman who had given it.

She wondered if Audrey had any idea that Tristan was already married.

When she returned to her desk, she printed another copy of the original report and went to Sheila's desk. Sheila glanced at her without a hint of guilt, only smug satisfaction.

"Now you've seen the kind of woman who's actually worthy of Mr. Somerton."

Stella threw the report onto Sheila's desk. "I'm unworthy, and so are you. Cheap tricks like this are all you have. You'll never get anywhere in life. You're already in your 30s—you should find someone to marry instead of chasing delusions."

Chapter 5

Sheila's expression darkened. She slammed her hand on the table, rising to her feet. "Stella!"

Stella didn't even glance back as she turned and walked away.

Back at her workstation, she pulled out a small mirror and examined the faint streak of blood on her cheek. The cut wasn't deep. She dabbed it with a wet tissue and didn't bother with anything else. At this point, one more scar didn't matter.

Her thoughts drifted to Audrey. There was something familiar about her face.

As the workday drew to a close, Stella's phone rang. It was her father, Gary Roberts. He told her Jonathan was back and asked her to come home for dinner.

Stella's eyes lit up. "Jonathan's back? I thought he was supposed to return on the 15th."

"He finished his work ahead of schedule," Gary replied.

Stella smiled. "Great. I'll come home after work."

…

Stella drove back to the Roberts residence. It was a spacious, single-level apartment in a mid-range complex in Weston, purchased earlier that year.

Gary ran a moderately sized real estate company, Welleon Realty. While they weren't rich by high-society standards, they lived comfortably, and Stella had grown up accustomed to that sense of stability.

However, the real estate market had declined, and a failed investment had left Gary's company on the brink of bankruptcy over half a year ago. Yet when Gary learned Stella was pregnant with Tristan's child, he didn't pressure her to return or demand explanations.

Staring at her father's worn, weary face, burdened by debts that might force him to sell their home, Stella had finally made her decision. She turned to the Somertons, but her motives weren't entirely selfless. She didn't just do it for Gary, but for herself as well.

She got what she wanted. The Somertons' generous gifts were enough to pay off their debts, but she paid a steep price for it.

Everything she had suffered was a consequence of her own choices. No one else was to blame.

At the apartment, Gary's girlfriend, Layla Bastion, emerged from the kitchen. "Stelle, you're back."

Stella's parents had divorced when she was nine. Her mother, Emma Quinton, took her brother with her and left.

Later, Gary met Layla. Although the two never registered their marriage, they lived together as a couple.

At first, Stella had resisted Layla, even harbored a dislike for her. But over time, she came to feel the genuine warmth behind Layla's kindness. On top of that, Layla's son, Jonathan Bastian, treated her with care. Though losing her brother had left a void in her life, she gained a new one in Jonathan.

"Where are Dad and Jonathan?" Stella asked.

"They should be on their way. They'll be home soon. Go ahead and rest for a while," Layla said.

Stella nodded. "Okay, thanks."

Although she was married, Gary had kept her room for her, even redecorating it in the style she loved. The moment she stepped inside, all her weariness and frustration seemed to vanish, as if they had never existed.

She perched on the edge of the bed and picked up the photo album from the nightstand. The first photo that greeted her was a torn family portrait.

The photo was worn. She had only been eight that year. A young, handsome Gary held her gently in his arms, while her 14-year-old brother stood beside him and Emma on the other side.

Stella had ripped the photo herself, driven by hatred for Emma, who took her brother away and abandoned her and her father. It had been many years since then, and the sharp sting of that betrayal had faded.

Turning the page, she saw another photo. A teenage girl in a white dress and a light-brown woven hat stood amidst a grove of golden maple trees. Sunlight fell on her radiant smile.

Her delicate oval face, framed by flowing black hair, glowed with an ethereal beauty. Yet it was her eyes that were most striking, shimmering like stars in the night sky.

Years later, a serious illness had forced her to start hormone treatments, and her body gradually became plump. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't lose weight. She learned to survive on strict diets and relentless exercise, doing whatever she could to keep her weight from rising further.

Stella's mind drifted back to Audrey, whom she had seen earlier that day. The resemblance was uncanny. Her features, especially those eyes, mirrored those of the girl in the photograph almost perfectly.