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What happens when a game feed can also make games?
What happens when a game feed can also make games?
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What happens when a game feed can also make games?
What happens when a game feed can also make games?
What happens when a game feed can also make games?
What happens when a game feed can also make games?
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Chapter 1 Don't Want Him Anymore "I'm sorry, ma'am." On the other end of the line, the insurance customer service rep said coolly, "After checking our records, the car owner, Mr. Woodard, is indeed married, but the spouse listed here isn't you." Stella Daniels had gotten into a car accident on her way to the Woodard Group headquarters. She couldn't get through to Bradly Woodard on his phone, so she had no choice but to call the insurance company. The car was registered in Bradly's name, but as his wife, she should be able to process the claim too. "When Mr. Woodard picked up the car, he came with his wife and provided the original marriage license. Her last name is Erickson, and her full name is Shanna Erickson," the rep said. It hit Stella like a slap in the face. Dizziness washed over her in waves, leaving her whole body shaking uncontrollably. She and Bradly had been childhood sweethearts. Their families were old friends, and everyone in Ostralver's high society knew how clingy he was with her. Bradly couldn't stand being apart from her even for a single day. Three years ago, when Stella headed abroad for her studies, Bradly had the plane stopped just for her. During her three years in Ensland, he expanded his business overseas to make it easier to look after her. Sixteen thousand miles apart, he'd still fly across the ocean every week to see her. The year she came down with a severe lung illness and nearly didn't pull through, she spent a week in intensive care. Bradly ignored the infection risks and stayed right by her side, sliding a ring onto her finger. He said, "If anything happens to you, I'll go with you. We'll be husband and wife in the next life too." For Bradly's sake, she turned down her mentor's offer to stay on in the lab and headed back home. Brimming with excitement, she went to find him, planning to surprise him. But when she pushed open the door to the CEO's office, she saw a slender, pretty woman straddling his lap. The woman's innocent face tilted upward, her voice whiny and aggrieved. "Mr. Woodard, what happens to me now that Stella is back?" Bradly sat in his executive chair, his tall frame looming over her. A flash of ruthlessness crossed his stern features. "You? You're just her stand-in. Don't forget your place." He lifted his hand, pinching her delicate chin with a sneer. "Barely a three-out-of-ten resemblance, and you think you can compare to her?" Stella was still clutching the gift she'd prepared for him. With a loud "bang," it dropped to the floor, finally breaking the scene in the office. Bradly's face drained of color as he shoved the woman off and jumped to his feet. That woman was Shanna. After Stella caught them in the act, Bradly fired Shanna on the spot and pulled out all the stops to win her back. Bradly, the arrogant prince of Ostralver's elite circles, humbled himself to the dust before her, begging her to give him another chance. Any project she set her sights on, he'd drop without a second thought. He stood in the pouring rain outside her building for over a week, just for a glimpse of her. He said, "Stella, I'm not asking you to forgive me. At least let me explain. "I only ever saw Shanna as your replacement. You've been gone abroad for so long; I missed you terribly. I swear, I just kept her around. Nothing more ever happened between us. "That time you walked in, I'd had too much to drink, and she deliberately tempted me. I lost control for a moment... "I've already let her go, and she won't show up in our lives again. Stella, please, come back to me." Back then, Stella couldn't stand even the slightest betrayal. She insisted on breaking off the engagement. Until that one incident. She was kidnapped by a business rival. The kidnappers reneged on the deal, tied her up in an abandoned factory, and set the place ablaze. Bradly charged into the flames without a second thought to rescue her, shielding her from a collapsing steel beam. He ended up gravely injured, confined to bed for nearly six months. By risking his life, Bradly finally melted her resolve. Once he was out of the hospital, she accepted his proposal, and they threw a lavish wedding. In the two years since they tied the knot, he'd treated her just as devotedly as ever, with zero scandals. He even imposed a strict curfew on himself, heading home right on time every day. Even on out-of-town business trips, he'd video call her constantly. His partners would tease him about being henpecked. He never denied it. Instead, he'd grin proudly and say, "A real man takes care of his family." Memories rushed through Stella's mind like a whirlwind, every past moment flashing by in a blur. Her legs buckled, and she dropped to her knees, burying her face in her hands. She couldn't figure out which Bradly was the real one anymore. A bitter, mocking gleam sparked in her eyes. She thought, 'How absurd.' She'd been his wife for two years, and only now was she learning that even their marriage license had been a sham. Stella scrubbed her face hard, her bangs already soaked with cold sweat. She ignored the other driver's furious yelling and calmly dialed the police. They showed up fast. After finishing her statement, Stella left the station under a sky that had gone completely dark. Her phone lit up with several missed calls from Bradly. When she hadn't answered, he'd sent texts instead. Bradly: [Babe, I was tied up in a key meeting this afternoon. Signal jammers were on, so I missed your call. You okay?] Bradly: [I've got a client dinner tonight, so I'll be late getting home. I double-checked: no women involved, so no need to worry.] Bradly: [Head to bed early. Don't wait up. Love you.] Stella stared at the screen, a sharp wave of irony twisting in her gut. Bradly didn't stagger in until the wee hours. He reeked of alcohol, which almost, but not quite, masked the subtle whiff of perfume on him. "Honey..." He could barely keep his balance, stumbling over to wrap his arms around her through the blanket. "I missed you so damn much..." Stella didn't say a word. Only once he was dead to the world did she sit up quietly and unlock his phone with his fingerprint. The thing was squeaky clean, no suspicious traces at all. His contacts were mostly buddies and business folks, with hers pinned at the top as "Darling Wife." Flawlessly tidy, just like their sham of a marriage. Stella hooked the phone up to her computer, and it didn't take long to uncover his second WhatsApp account. She signed in, and right away, messages popped up from a profile with a cute pink kitten avatar, labeled "Baby." Shanna: [Bradly, thanks for tonight. Without you, I wouldn't have known what to do.] Shanna: [I've always thought meeting you was the luckiest thing that's ever happened to me. I won't intrude on your life. As long as you swing by to see me once in a while, that's enough to make me happy.] Stella scrolled back through the history. She'd suspected as much, but seeing it all laid out still hit her like a punch to the chest, leaving her breathless. They chatted nearly every day. Shanna never missed a good morning message, and Bradly's replies had shifted over time, from total silence at first, to sporadic responses, and now to answering every single one. A chill spread through her. Stella clutched the phone tighter, knowing she should quit while she was ahead but unable to stop herself from digging deeper. Shanna: [Bradly, sorry, I had a few drinks and lost it for a bit. Doc says I'm okay now, so don't stress.] Shanna: [Mrs. Woodard's birthday bash is important. Go enjoy it with her. I'll be fine.] Stella squeezed her eyes shut as the memory came rushing back. Her birthday. Bradly had spent over a month planning it down to the last detail, but that day, he was totally distracted. Hell, he almost cut his own hand while slicing the cake. When she'd asked what was up, he'd brushed it off as work drama, told her not to worry, then pulled her into a soft embrace and encouraged her to blow out the candles and make a wish. It all made sense now, as she stared at this chat log. That same day, Shanna had tried to kill herself by slashing her wrists and ended up in the ER. A sour bitterness flooded her chest like a rising tide. In those brief seconds when she'd closed her eyes to wish, she wondered, 'Was he agonizing over Shanna in the hospital, or picturing endless years together with her?' Stella knew she didn't need an answer to that anymore. She gently placed the phone back and looked down at Bradly, fast asleep beside her. She'd known him since she was four, and for the twenty years that followed, she'd truly believed his love was hers alone, irreplaceable. But now she saw it for what it was: just cheap free samples at a store, handed out to anyone who walked by. If that was all it amounted to, she was done with it. Chapter 2 Bid Against Her The next day, Stella woke to find Bradly busy in the kitchen, his broad shoulders narrowing to a slim waist, his tall, lean build moving with purpose. The sight hit her hard, a dull ache tightening in her chest. Bradly had learned to cook entirely for her sake. She still remembered that turbulent period when the Woodard Group was in crisis. His rivals had targeted her, paying off a servant to poison her food. She'd been unconscious for three full days. When she finally woke, Bradly was there, his eyes red-rimmed and veined with exhaustion, gripping her hand like a lifeline. The instant she stirred, the imposing Bradly crumbled forward, enveloping her in a hug as scalding tears fell onto her skin. From then on, Bradly threw himself into cooking lessons, taking charge of all her meals. In less than a month, he'd gone from a spoiled elite who couldn't distinguish spices to turning out dishes worthy of a Michelin chef. Just then, his phone rang. Stella glanced at it but made no move to answer. Bradly darted out of the kitchen, apron still on, grabbing the phone with a barely concealed flash of anxiety. Stella pretended not to notice and went to wash up. When she came back, the table was set with breakfast, and he was slipping into his suit jacket from the coat rack. Seeing her, he said gently, "There's an emergency at work. I have to run. Sorry I can't join you for breakfast." Stella murmured, "Sure, work comes first." He was clearly in a hurry, because he didn't pick up on the new edge of cool distance in her tone and rushed out. She stared blankly after him until he was gone, then dumped the entire spread into the trash. Then she picked up her phone and dialed a number. "That offer you made before? I'm on board." The person on the other end erupted in delight, chattering away before shifting to broken Andosa Language. "Stella, why the sudden change of heart? I've bugged you about this so many times, and you always said you were married now and focusing on family." A mocking glint flickered in Stella's eyes. She thought, 'Married? This so-called marriage has been dead on arrival.' The caller was her former mentor from her overseas studies. He'd reached out lately, hoping she'd join his new team and spearhead a major project. At the time, she'd kept saying no out of loyalty to Bradly. Now, she only wished she'd seen through the absurd joke of their marriage earlier. After the call, she contacted immigration to schedule a passport renewal. It would take about a week. But before heading out, she had one loose end to tie up. That evening, Stella showed up at a private auction at the Cloud Hotel. She was after one of her mother's keepsakes. Her mom had died when she was eight, and soon after, the Daniels family had liquidated her wedding gift. Stella had been hunting down the items ever since. Over the years, she'd only reclaimed a few. Tonight's auction featured a bracelet from that collection, one her mother had picked up on a trip to Ijance. It was utterly unique, irreplaceable. Whatever it took, she was getting it back. Stella settled into her seat just as the auction was about to start. She was flipping through the catalog when Bradly's voice floated over. "Didn't I already pick out that royal blue sapphire set for you? Not good enough?" His voice carried that familiar tenderness. Shanna linked her arm with his, pouting playfully. "Your taste sucks! I want to pick my own birthday gift." Stella watched them quietly until Bradly threaded through the guests and their gazes collided by chance. The color drained from his face. On pure reflex, he jerked his arm away from Shanna. "Stella." He strode over quickly. "I tried calling you a few times, but you didn't answer. Were you planning to surprise me?" Even though he tried to play it cool, she could still catch that subtle hint of panic in his expression. Stella didn't bother calling him on it, replying evenly, "My phone was on silent. I didn't hear it." Bradly visibly relaxed, casually taking her hand in his with a look of concern. "Your hands are like ice. Didn't I warn you about the cold snap today? You're always putting style over staying warm. If you catch a chill, you know it'll just kill me." As he talked, he signaled a server for a blanket and draped it snugly around her shoulders. Stella kept a straight face, brushing him off as she looked past him to Shanna, who lingered behind with a scowl. Shanna nibbled her lip, then defiantly dropped into the seat next to Bradly, her gaze simmering with irritation. Bradly leaned closer, dropping his voice to explain, "We just wrapped up a major project at the company, and Shanna pulled her weight big time. Her birthday's around the corner, so I thought I'd treat her to something as a project bonus." He eyed her anxiously. "Stella, you're not mad, right?" Shanna piped up in a soft, vulnerable tone. "Mrs. Woodard, if this upsets you, I'll just go. I don't want to get in the way of you and Mr. Woodard." Stella's mouth quirked into a smile that never touched her eyes. "We're married. A little thing like this? Of course it doesn't bother me." The auction got underway shortly after. Bradly treated Shanna like she was invisible, focusing entirely on Stella. He paged through the catalog, throwing in bids left and right. "Babe, this would look amazing on you." He grinned, tenderly brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his tone warm and intimate. "You'd be gorgeous in it." Stella averted her eyes, but out of the corner of her vision, she saw Shanna discreetly clutching the edge of Bradly's jacket in the dim light. Their gazes locked for a split second in a shared, lingering look. She masked the derision in her own eyes, struck by how absurd it all was. Bradly seemed totally at ease juggling both women, convinced he was keeping things balanced, one with the official status, the other with his undivided public attention. She thought, 'What could be fairer than that?' But Stella had never been interested in that kind of equilibrium. Her world extended far beyond romance. Bradly? He was just a small detour on her path, a misstep she'd own up to. And now, it was time to set things right. "Next up: a string of bracelet. Fine-grained texture, deep aroma that lingers. Starting bid at 170,000 dollars, with increments of at least 20,000 dollars!" The auctioneer's pumped-up voice echoed through the room. Finally, Stella's main target for the evening. Bids flew in fast, the screen flickering with updates as the auctioneer called out, "Number 17 lady at 200,000 dollars! Number 9 gentleman ups it to 260,000 dollars! Going higher?" Once the initial frenzy tapered off, Stella lifted her paddle. "500,000 dollars." She'd doubled the current bid in one go. It was a hefty amount. Sure, the bracelet was top-notch, but it wasn't the auction's highlight. The room went quiet after her call; no one countered. "Fantastic! Number 11 lady at 500,000 dollars! "500,000 dollars once! 500,000 dollars twice!" The auctioneer hoisted his gavel, poised to bring it down. "No more bids? Then 500,000 dollars—" "520,000 dollars," A gentle, hesitant voice interrupted. Shanna shrank against Bradly's side, paddle in hand, murmuring timidly to him, "Is this where I put in the amount?" Chapter 3 You're Dirty Stella frowned and raised her bid. "540,000 dollars." But Shanna was right behind her, countering with, "560,000 dollars." How annoyingly precise, each time, she stuck to the bare minimum, slapping on just 20,000 dollars more than Stella's offer. Shanna turned toward her, her voice dripping with plea. "Stella, you've got plenty of jewelry already. Please, let me have this one. I adore it. "I'm not like you, born with money, everything handed to you on a silver platter. You snap your fingers and get whatever you want. If it goes any higher, I really won't be able to keep up." Stella didn't bother looking at her, just quirking her lips in a thin smile. "Isn't Mr. Woodard covering the cost for you? What are you stressing about?" Shanna's face went a shade paler, but she answered in that soft, demure tone, "Even so, Mr. Woodard earns his money the hard way. If I can save him a bit, I ought to." She was the epitome of considerate and caring. After several more back-and-forth bids, the bracelet's price had soared to 700,000 dollars. Stella let out a chilly scoff and was opening her mouth to up the ante when Bradly beat her to it. He said, "Babe, why don't we just let Shanna take this bracelet?" Stella's fingers curled into a tight fist, her nails biting into her palm. She lifted her gaze, any lingering warmth in her eyes turning to ice. "What did you just say?" Bradly let out a resigned sigh, giving her hand a comforting pat as he murmured gently, "Babe, I already told Shanna she'd get a gift tonight, and she's got her heart set on this one. No need to compete with her. "Plus, I've already snagged you a handful of other pieces. Isn't that plenty?" He said it all lightly, teasingly, as if it were nothing more than a harmless quip. Stella shut her eyes, a nameless sourness creeping along her nerves, coiling around her heart until it felt like she couldn't draw a breath. Given Shanna's modest background, 700,000 dollars was way out of her league. She wouldn't even make the guest list here on her own. The only reason she was in that seat, trading bids blow for blow, was Bradly's backing. His pampering had delivered her straight into Stella's path. Stella whispered, "What if I refuse to back down?" She hoisted her paddle once more, her voice echoing through the room. "1 million dollars." A hush blanketed the hall. The auctioneer clearly picked up on the drama, his delivery faltering. "Number eleven at 1 million dollars. Do I hear higher?" Shanna's eyes welled up, on the verge of tears, as she cast a helpless look at Bradly before tacking on another fifty thousand. "1 million 20 thousand dollars." Stella's features hardened to frost, and she was poised to fire back when the manager bustled over, bending close to murmur, "Mrs. Woodard, apologies. We ran a credit verification on your account, and it's frozen. Got another one we can use?" The words slammed into her like a bolt from the blue, ringing in her ears. She snapped her head toward Bradly, but he'd already looked away. An icy numbness spread through her arms and legs. She though,t 'Of course, it has to be him.' Her primary account was linked with his; besides her, only he could authorize a freeze on her cards. Triumph flickered in Shanna's eyes as she added with a pointed edge, "Well, in that case, Mrs. Woodard, maybe it's time to step aside. You've got so much already. Can't you let me have this one little thing?" Up on stage, the auction rolled on, the display frozen on Shanna's latest bid: 1 million 20 thousand dollars. Shanna could hardly hide her glee, chirping sweetly, "Go on, call it!" But the words had barely left her lips when someone announced he would bid for the lot at any costs right in the second-floor VIP suite. After a momentary silence, the room burst into chaos. "He's declared absolute intent!" Even the auctioneer's expression changed. He'd been in the game for over a decade, but this was his first encounter with such a scenario. He hurriedly called out, "Lot number six goes to the gentleman in box 217, regardless of how high the price goes." Anyone up in those second-floor VIP suites was either swimming in money or held serious sway in Ostralver's upper crust. Stella glanced upward toward the source of the voice, catching only a vague outline behind the draped curtains. Even when she couldn't see his face, the man's crossed-legged posture radiated an unspoken dominance that pressed down on the room. The auctioneer slammed his gavel down with finality, proclaiming, "Congratulations to our esteemed guest in box 217 on winning lot number six! You're now upgraded to black gold status!" Across all of Ostralver's elite scene, fewer than a handful had ever hit black gold level at these events. Stella wondered, 'Just who is this mystery man?' Stella loosened her clenched fist slightly, torn between relief that her mother's heirloom hadn't landed in Shanna's clutches and anxiety over reclaiming it from this unknown figure. No matter what, she'd stop at nothing, pay any price, to bring her mother's possession home. She rose to her feet, intent on marching over to box 217 for a chat, when the attendant who'd just ducked inside reappeared, tray in hand with the bracelet. "What's this? The bidder in 217 having second thoughts?" "Auctions don't do take-backs." "Probably short on funds. I called it. No one's done this here before." As the murmurs swirled, the attendant headed straight for Stella, dipping into a courteous bow with a warm smile. She said, "Mrs. Woodard, the gentleman in box 217 requests that I deliver the bracelet to you as a gift. He wishes for you to follow your true path and for all to unfold as it should." The place erupted in gossip once more, with guests shooting glances her way, some envious, others skeptical, many flat-out stunned. "Isn't that Mrs. Woodard? What's her deal with the upstairs guy?" "Likely just buttering up Mr. Woodard." "Nah, I don't buy it. Out of all the goodies tonight, why zero in on those beads for Mrs. Woodard? Sounds like she's got a real connection there." The buzz filtered through, and Bradly's face turned stone-cold. In a tight, edged voice, he demanded, "Stella, what's the story with you and whoever's in box 217?" Stella held his piercing stare and said flatly, "I have no idea who he is." "!" Bradly jumped up, clamping down on her wrist like a vice. Her soft, fair skin reddened almost instantly under the pressure. Stella winced sharply, jerking her arm back on reflex. "Bradly, have you lost your mind? Haven't you stirred up enough drama for one day?" But he barreled on, blind to her fury, his reddened eyes locked on her as if he could swallow her up. "What's really between you two? "Stella, through all our married years, I've bent over backward for you. Anything you desired, I served it up without question. Why would you betray me like this?" In his mind, it was already a done deal: she was entangled in something shady with the man above. If the guy was angling for a favor from him, Bradly would've recognized him right away. People in Ostralver didn't beat around the bush when they needed something from him. They came direct. The jab landed raw and direct. Bradly blinked, frozen for a beat as a flicker of alarm shot through his eyes. Chapter 4 Don't Know You'd Come Bradly said, "I'm sorry, Stella. I didn't mean it like that. I had no right getting jealous over you and some stranger. It's all on me." Bradly's eyes reddened. "But honestly, there's nothing going on between Shanna and me. I just brought her along as a thank-you. Can you let this slide?" Seeing his cue, Shanna ducked her head meekly, her voice catching. "That's right, Mrs. Woodard. I've been bending over backward to keep my distance from Mr. Woodard so you wouldn't get the wrong impression. "I'm not asking for the world, just a decent birthday gift. I didn't grow up with your advantages; you've had everything handed to you and even snagged a catch like Mr. Woodard. Can't I at least pick out something for myself?" "Just a gift, huh?" Stella closed in on her, one step at a time. "Ms. Erickson, I've never given a damn about this 'gift' you're going on about. What gets under my skin is you, a Woodard Group employee, crossing lines you have no business crossing." As they drew closer, Bradly instinctively stepped in front of Shanna, his voice soft and coaxing. "Stella, if it's bugging you this much, I'll transfer her to a branch office once the auction's over. "But for now, cut me some slack. Let Shanna have the bracelet. When we get home, name your price on anything, and it's yours." Shanna bobbed her head in agreement, tears glistening on her lashes as she pleaded, "Stella, I really adore this bracelet. You've got it all already. Why go after the one thing I want? "Or is this just because you hate my guts and can't resist taking shots at me?" "What makes you think I'd ever like you?" Stella let out a cold snort. "This belonged to me from the start. Why the hell would I give it up?" She took the bracelet from the attendant with casual ease, her smile sharp but empty. "Ms. Erickson, know your place." Her refusal to budge finally wore through Bradly's patience, erasing every bit of softness from his face. "Stella, do you have to humiliate me like this in front of everyone? Where does that leave my dignity? "It's just a crappy old bracelet. Am I really worth less to you than some trinket?" He said it with such conviction, as if he'd wiped from his memory the solemn vow he'd made when proposing: that he'd hunt down every single one of her mother's sold-off keepsakes, no matter what. Stella's hand flew up, delivering a resounding slap across his cheek. The sharp crack rang out, pulling shocked stares from every corner of the room. Bradly's head snapped sideways, his face livid as he fixed her with a glare, his words hissing through clenched teeth. "Stella, drop the drama already. Have I pampered you too much these days, turning you into this unreasonable nightmare?" Stella reined in her temper, keeping her tone even. "Bradly, you better not live to regret today." Without another word, she turned and walked out, not sparing a backward glance. As her figure receded, Shanna gently touched the angry red mark on Bradly's cheek, her voice full of worry. "Mr. Woodard, are you okay? "Stella's got no boundaries. How could she hit you with all these people watching?" Bradly swatted her hand aside, his nails digging into his palm as he stared after her retreating path. "I've spoiled her rotten, letting her forget that everything she has comes from me." Shanna peeked at his changing expression, testing the waters. "Mr. Woodard, about the bracelet..." Bradly rubbed his throbbing cheek, pulled a bank card from his pocket, and handed it over. "1.7 million dollars on there. Buy whatever catches your eye." Box 217, Stella rapped on the door, eager to thank the mystery bidder face-to-face. Silence. She caught a server walking by. "Excuse me, any idea where the gentleman from this box headed?" "He slipped out right after nabbing the last item," the server said. Disappointment flashed in her eyes, but Stella pressed on, "Do you know who he was?" The server gave her a regretful smile. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard, we're not allowed to spill on our VIPs. Don't make this harder for us." Catching herself, Stella moved out of the way. "Thanks all the same." By the time she made it home from the auction, an hour had ticked by. Stella went straight up to the study, fired up the computer, and dove into the assets registered under her and Bradly's names. After tallying up the numbers, she snatched her phone, found lawyer Rubin Cobb's contact, and hit dial. She said, "I've sorted out the asset division documents for me and Bradly and sent them over. I need you to handle the property split by tomorrow." Rubin quickly received the files and nodded respectfully. "Of course, Mrs. Woodard. I'll get right on it." Stella stared intently at her computer screen, her grip tightening on the mouse. "If Bradly's committed bigamy, how should our assets be divided?" "Generally, any property the bigamous party gained through the bigamy can be claimed back by the other spouse," Rubin replied matter-of-factly. Half of Bradly's current wealth had come from Stella's investments to support his career early on. Her expression darkened, and she promptly forwarded the marriage license between him and Shanna. "Rubin, please use every legal avenue to recover my half of the assets." After hanging up, Stella slumped back in her chair, utterly drained physically and emotionally. She closed her eyes slowly, but sleep was nowhere in sight. Bradly would never agree to a divorce. Until she had everything locked down, she couldn't let on that anything was amiss. Just then, the study door was kicked open from the outside. Bradly flung his jacket onto the desk and yanked Stella up from her seat in front of the computer. "Do you realize that because of your little outburst, I've become a laughingstock in our circles? "What exactly do you want? Are you still obsessing over what happened back then?" Stella opened her eyes slowly, her gaze settling calmly on Bradly, but she remained silent. A fire raged in Bradly's chest, intensifying by the second, and he couldn't hold back his fury any longer. "Since we got married, have I ever done anything to wrong you? I come home right on time every night after work, I always fill you in on any business dinners, and if there's even a hint of a woman involved, I skip them entirely! I've bent over backward, and it's still not good enough for you?" He remembered every detail crystal clear. In his mind, these were the sacrifices he'd made to marry her. Stella suddenly found the whole thing absurd. She couldn't bear to look at him anymore, so she stood up and walked straight out of the study without a backward glance. Behind her, Bradly's voice echoed heavily. "Stella, no matter what you think, my conscience is clear." It felt like Stella's heart had been shattered into icy fragments, a sharp, bitter pain surging through her. Her mind buzzed, and for a moment, all she could hear was that phrase repeating over and over. She thought, 'My conscience is clear? So, in his eyes, everything he's done is perfectly justifiable.' The next morning, when Stella woke up, Bradly was already gone. On the table sat the breakfast he'd prepared, tailored exactly to her tastes. Stella pressed her lips together, her feelings a complicated tangle. They'd ended things on a sour note last night, yet Bradly had still made her breakfast this morning. But this was the same man who'd lied to her for years. No matter what, it was time to end things with Bradly. She didn't touch the food and headed straight to the office. These past few years, she'd stayed out of Bradly's business dealings. A lot of her old financial records were outdated now, and she needed the latest reports. The secretary looked startled when she saw her, then managed to say, "Mrs. Woodard, are you here to see Mr. Woodard?" "No." Stella replied evenly. "Send the finance manager in to see me." Her shares were second only to Bradly's, giving her full access to every aspect of the company. The secretary hesitated briefly before nodding. Stella noticed her immediately turning to make a phone call, probably alerting Bradly. Stella didn't intervene; let her. She settled into the finance office, sipping her coffee absentmindedly while flipping through magazines on the shelf. Most were glossy entertainment rags, mixed in with novels and comics. Stella frowned, only now picking up on the details: the desk was covered in a pink plaid mat, cluttered with adorable plush toys. The standout pair was a set of couple dolls, their outfits emblazoned with the letters W and E. It hit Stella suddenly what that meant, and just then, the door behind her swung open. Shanna rushed in. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard." She was clutching a cup of coffee as she apologized. "I had no idea you'd drop by like this..." Chapter 5 All For Milford Stella arched an eyebrow as she looked her over. "So you're the finance manager?" Shanna nodded with a quick smile. "That's me. If you need anything at all, just say the word. Bradly, well, Mr. Woodard is tied up in a meeting right now. But don't worry, I'll make sure to relay whatever message you have." Stella let out a soft laugh. "No need for that." She regarded Shanna with clear curiosity. "I'm not looking for Bradly. I'm here to see you." Shanna's smile faltered for a moment before she recovered, her tone turning gentle. "Mrs. Woodard, I get that you're still bothered by what went down at the auction last night, but there's no reason to be so worked up about my connection to Mr. Woodard. After all..." She raised her hand, the elegant diamond ring on her finger glinting under the light, perfectly complementing her bashful grin. "I'm already married, and things are great between me and my husband." Stella's eyes locked on the ring, her breath hitching just for an instant. It was ridiculous. In this whole messed-up situation, she was the one playing the role of the mistress. The ring was an exact match for the one Bradly had given her during his proposal. But within seconds, Stella averted her gaze. "It's a lovely ring, but you're mistaken." She spoke unhurriedly, "I'm just here to grab the latest financial report from you. That's all." Stella caught the sour shift in Shanna's expression and smiled to herself. "Seems like you're the one on edge here, Ms. Erickson." Shanna's face transformed completely, that smug spark in her eyes snuffed out. She bit her lip, unable to find words for a long beat. Stella watched her with unruffled poise. "Do I need to repeat my request, Ms. Erickson?" The words had barely left her mouth when Bradly burst in, his expression clouding over at the sight. "Stella, wasn't the scene from last night enough?" His voice was laced with ice. "How long are you planning to drag this out? I've told you already. There's nothing going on between me and Shanna. If you don't believe me..." Stella interrupted him mid-sentence, "Oh, I believe you. Absolutely." A faint smirk tugged at her lips, though her eyes remained frosty as they settled on Shanna. "After all, Ms. Erickson's already married. She just mentioned it herself." The statement landed like a bomb. Shanna's face drained of color, and Bradly's followed suit. He shot her a withering glare. Tears sprang to Shanna's eyes in an instant. Stella had no interest in watching the drama unfold any further. She said evenly, "I'm here for this year's financials. I hold forty percent of the company. Surely I can access that, right?" Bradly seemed to snap back to reality, nodding hastily. "Of course you can." He barked orders at the secretary to fetch it immediately, all the while stealing wary glances at her face. Once he confirmed she wasn't giving anything away, he exhaled almost imperceptibly in relief. He said, "Stella, what's with the sudden interest? You've never bothered with company matters before." Stella answered coolly, "After the account freeze last night, I decided it's smarter to set up a separate one." Bradly's expression froze again. "Stella..." The secretary returned promptly with the report. Stella brushed Bradly aside, skimmed through it quickly, and was heading for the door when he caught her by the wrist. He said, "Stella, about the family dinner tonight, are you coming home with me?" His tone was pleading, like he needed her answer to reassure himself that she hadn't caught on to anything fishy. Stella didn't look back, just replying calmly, "Sure." Bradly's face lit up. "Great, I'll swing by after work to pick you up." Stella dropped her gaze, masking the cool detachment in her eyes. She'd only agreed to head back to the family estate for one specific reason. The marriage license from when she and Bradly had tied the knot was a phony, but he'd made a whole production out of stashing it away at the house, claiming it had to be kept secure. Nothing could serve as stronger proof. Once she got her hands on it, his bigamy would be ironclad. Stella didn't bother waiting for Bradly; she hailed a cab and got there ahead of time. She'd figured it was just a standard family gathering, but she was caught off guard by the full turnout. Bradly's parents, fresh from their overseas vacation last week, were back, and even the distant relatives from the Woodard family's side branches had shown up en masse. "Stella, dear." As she walked in, Nadine Woodard peered over her shoulder. "Bradly didn't come with you?" Stella answered evenly, "He'll be along shortly." Nadine clicked her tongue, her irritation obvious. "On an important occasion like this, letting someone from outside the family arrive solo, what's got into him?" Stella's brow furrowed just a touch. She and Bradly had been engaged since childhood, but after her mother's passing, the Daniels family's status had tanked while the Woodard family kept climbing. That was when Nadine started pushing to scrap the arrangement, and she'd mentioned it more than a few times. But Chuck Woodard was upright and principled, flat-out refusing to play the social-climbing game. With Bradly dead set on marrying her and no one else, Nadine had reluctantly given in, though she made her resentment clear. Even after the marriage, she never passed up an opportunity to give Stella the cold shoulder. She was about to add something else when the butler rushed in and murmured, "He's here." Nadine promptly dropped the subject with Stella and jumped to her feet, the extended family hustling out right behind her to welcome the arrivals. The level of pomp surprised Stella. The Woodard family was already at the top of Ostralver's social elite. For them to pull out all the stops like this... Standing at the edge of the group, Stella glanced up and saw a black Maybach rolling up to the front of the estate. Someone hurried forward to open the door respectfully, and a tall, imposing figure stepped out unhurriedly. The man wore a sleek black suit, his chiseled features sharp, eyes as midnight, radiating a fierce intensity. Every gesture exuded a natural poise and authority that made it tough to hold his stare. The crowd swarmed forward in a rush, but he stayed cool and detached the whole time, his stunningly handsome face as impassive as carved ice, showing zero emotion. Then, as if picking up on something, he looked up toward Stella. Their eyes locked unexpectedly, sending her heart pounding. It was Milford Woodard, Bradly's brother. He'd returned to the country. Though they were brothers in name, Milford wasn't all that tight with the family. He'd headed overseas young and had spent years growing the business abroad. His father Edward Woodard was a total lightweight, good only at spending cash, not earning it. His grandpa Chuck had the smarts and drive, but age was catching up, leaving him unable to manage it all. Real power over the Woodard family had shifted to Milford ages ago. Stella let out a quiet breath. She thought, 'That explains the big crowd today. They've all turned out for Milford.' Chapter 6 Need Help? Stella lingered in the corner of the living room, watching the relatives descend like a swarm of locusts, all scrambling to surround Milford. Bradly stood next to Nadine, flashing a polished smile as he greeted, "Hey, Milford." The uncles who'd been buttering up Bradly just a minute ago quickly switched gears, beaming with over-the-top enthusiasm as they stepped up to say hello. "Milford, what prompted the sudden return?" "Milford, I hear you're in the middle of acquiring a domestic company? You're just getting more impressive by the day." "Come on inside, take a seat. We've got some top-shelf coffee." Bradly caught the stark contrast in the uncles' warmth, his smile fading briefly before he pulled it together and led the way forward. Stella quietly eyed the tall, strikingly handsome Milford striding into the living room like the star of the show, instinctively edging back a step. Now fully pushed to the fringes of the crowd, she shifted aside to let the trailing group pass, doing everything she could to blend into the wallpaper. Milford approached steadily. Unlike Bradly's flashy, outgoing vibe, he had a more brooding, aloof kind of handsomeness, like a pine tree blanketed in snow, regal and intimidating. He acknowledged the flattery around him with simple nods, his eyes scanning the room casually, subtly taking stock of everyone there. Until his gaze swept over Stella again, and he came to an abrupt halt. He paused, causing Bradly to stop too. "Something wrong, Milford?" Milford didn't respond, his steady gaze fixed on Stella. It was only a look, but it jolted her to her core. She felt an odd sense of being claimed, uninvited. Yet she'd barely crossed paths with Milford before. Bradly and the others traced his stare, his eyebrow quirking up. "Stella, come say hi to Big Milford." Stella started to step forward, but Milford beat her to it, walking straight toward her. Bradly and the rest exchanged surprised glances. So far, everyone had been approaching Milford. He hadn't initiated with a soul. Milford's deep eyes gave nothing away. "Stella?" Her breath hitched, like a faint breeze had brushed her ear. She hadn't anticipated him coming over to chat. It had been years, and they'd only met once or twice, but he still remembered her. Stella nodded. "Milford, it's been ages—" Before she could finish, Milford held out his hand. The move was so casual, so natural. Out of pure reflex and politeness, Stella extended hers, their palms connecting. In that brief clasp, she felt him squeeze gently, his thumb settling on her fingers and grazing them with a warm intensity. Milford released after just a second. Suddenly, Bradly sidled up, drawing Stella into his side with an arm around her waist, lacing his fingers through her left hand. He said, "Milford, how long are you in town this time? Stella and I can take you out to dinner one of these days." Milford took in their cozy pose, his glance dropping to their intertwined hands. "About a month." The words had barely left his mouth when Chuck came down the stairs, leaning on the butler for support. Milford headed over to talk with him. Not long after, the kitchen called that the party was ready. Stella trailed Bradly to their seats on the left side of the main table. Everyone filed in and sat. As the eldest branch, the two Woodard brothers took priority. Chuck claimed the head of the main table, with Nadine and Milford next in line. Stella and Bradly fell further down the order, landing her right across from Milford on the diagonal. The family feast got underway, with everyone firing questions at Milford about what he'd been up to lately. Stella kept her head down, nibbling at her food while catching bits of the conversation. Zrester bigwig, major stakeholder in Wonder Group, founder of that financial exchange and the smart transportation AI... Milford's credentials were endless and mind-blowing. She thought back to that Zrester party invite list she'd snagged years ago. Milford was third from the top, while she languished at the bottom. In all these years, she'd had next to no interaction with him. Right after the wedding, this mysterious Milford had only shown up once. He dropped off a gift and vanished. In just a handful of years, Milford had climbed to the pinnacle of Zrester's power players. His talent was obvious. Before long, the family party wound down, and folks scattered to grab desserts. Still hung up on that marriage license, Stella excused herself to head upstairs for a coat change. Bradly was itching to chat with Milford, his gaze fixed that way as he muttered distractedly, "Yeah, go on up." Stella wasted no time hustling upstairs. With the crowd milling about downstairs, she slipped to the third floor of the villa and nudged open Bradly's bedroom door. There it was: the glaring marriage license perched right on top of the nightstand, framed, flanked by their wedding portrait. As she stepped closer, memories of Bradly's cozy moments with Shanna flooded her brain, her nails digging slowly into her palm. That license seared her eyes, like it was sneering at her gullibility. She never should've caved, never should've handed Bradly a second shot. It just went to show that people's hearts circled back for seconds. Disgust flickered in her eyes as she hauled the desk's computer chair over, the kind with wheels and a swivel, shaky at best. She climbed onto it, planting one foot on the bed for stability, teetering just enough to hold steady. Stella hiked up her pearl-white knee-length dress a bit and stretched upward slowly. Fingers extended to the max, but she was still a couple inches shy. She rose onto her tiptoes, straining, but no dice. Frowning from her perch, she scanned around and snagged a book from beside the cabinet. As she leaned down, footsteps suddenly echoed outside the door. Fast, but measured. A man's, for sure. Her pulse spiked. She clutched the table, scrambling to hop down, but, perfect timing, her other sleeve caught on the cabinet's edge. She tugged frantically to break free, but it was too late to descend. The door flew open out of nowhere. Stella went rigid, her knees giving way as she toppled backward off the chair. A quick yelp escaped her, but the expected crash never hit. A firm hand latched precisely onto her thigh, another banding around her waist, hauling her into a solid hold and planting her feet firmly on the floor. She slammed into a warm, toned chest, a crisp, grounding sandalwood aroma enveloping her, not Bradly's scent. Stella glanced up, nearly clipping the guy's chin. Milford let go right away, backing off a step to give her space. Her cheeks burned, the thigh he'd gripped feeling like it was on fire. Mortified and frozen, she stammered, "Th-thanks." Milford stayed composed, his eyes skimming her flushed face and the pinkened patch of skin on her thigh from his hold. His Adam's apple dipped subtly. "Didn't realize you were in here. My bad." Stella shook her head, even more flustered. She was the one imposing on him. Milford flicked a glance upward. "Need some help?" She looked too. Up top, the marriage license screamed for attention. Chapter 7 Don't Let Me Hate You Stella just came out with it. "I want to get the marriage license down." Milford hesitated for a beat, without probing why she needed it, and slid the chair out of the way. Tall and long-limbed, he barely had to tip up on his toes to snag it effortlessly. Milford skimmed the lettering on the license, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes before the faintest quirk tugged at his lips, almost undetectable. He passed it over to Stella. "Ah, I see." She missed the words, taking it with a soft murmur: "Thanks, Milford." Her palms were slick with sweat now, but holding the certificate still sent an icy shiver through her. Those bold letters were a brutal reminder. This whole marriage had been one big joke. From beginning to end, Bradly's grand performance of undying love had always had a third wheel in the shadows. Milford dropped his gaze. Towering over her, all he could make out was the neat swirl at the top of her head, round and oddly appealing. Those slim, pale hands gripped the certificate like a vise, completely bloodless. Milford asked offhandedly, "So, what's the marriage license for?" "Oh, I just want to bring it home and store it there," Stella shot back, pulling an excuse out of thin air. Milford's stare felt like it enveloped her, the heat of it almost scorching, though he kept his hands to himself. Then he casually adjusted his cufflinks and turned to go. Stella let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, sagging against the cool cabinet. Her thigh still tingled with warmth from his grip; she quickly smoothed her skirt down, tucked the license into her bag, and only left the room once everything looked undisturbed. Bradly was still out in the back garden, deep in conversation. Stella kept her face neutral, strolling over to stand at his side. A few relatives were chatting with him. "Hey, word is Milford actually got back a couple days ago, but only tipped us off today." Bradly looked taken aback. "I thought he was flying in today?" "Nope, sounds like he hit up some auction. I only heard bits and pieces, supposedly the other night at the Empire Auction House." "He must not have gone. I was there that evening too, and I didn't see him anywhere," Bradly said, frowning in confusion. Stella's eyelashes flickered subtly, but she played it cool. Out of nowhere, her mind jumped back to that enigmatic bidder in suite 217. She wondered, 'Could Milford be the mystery guest who got the bracelet for me?' She shoved the thought down as soon as it surfaced. They'd only crossed paths once, total strangers really, connected by the flimsiest in-law tie. No matter how you sliced it, Milford wouldn't stick his neck out for her. Just like Bradly said, he hadn't caught wind of anything, so it couldn't be Milford. Stella let it go. After some more mingling, the group started to break up. Bradly steered her over to bid farewell to Milford. "Mom, Milford, we're taking off. Let's set up a family dinner soon when things settle." Milford slouched back in his chair with effortless nonchalance and gave a nod. "I'm knee-deep in an acquisition, no hurry on the get-together. But you..." He lifted his head, his expression sharpening. "Keep your life on the straight and narrow. Don't veer off track." The edge of warning in his voice was crystal clear. Bradly had grown up overshadowed by Milford; he went rigid but brushed it off casually. "Come on, everything's good. My company's running smooth as ever. If you're skeptical, drop by anytime and pore over the financials—knock yourself out." "It's not just about the company," Milford said softly, eyes down as he savored a sip of coffee. Stella couldn't help stealing a glance at him, and in that instant, a ridiculous idea struck her. From what Bradly had mentioned, Milford was abroad most of the time but still had the inside scoop on everything back home. She wondered, 'Does he know about the shady stuff Bradly is up to on the sly?' "Milford, I hear you. I'll make sure to nurture my marriage with Stella, our whole life together." Bradly grinned, threading his fingers through Stella's. Milford's gaze lingered on their joined hands for a second before drifting away, sealed with a subtle nod. Stella had no desire for any more close contact with Bradly, so she subtly shook his hand free without thinking. A split second later, his disbelieving stare locked onto her face, and he tried to grab her again. She'd known her move would humiliate him in the moment, so she didn't bother saying goodbye to Milford. She just turned and walked out ahead. Once they slid into the car, Bradly shed his polite, deferential mask from earlier, reverting to his entitled rich-kid swagger. He tugged his tie loose, a flicker of annoyance pinching his brows. "Always playing the big-brother card to chew me out, same crap since we were little. "So what if he's crushing it overseas? I'm holding my own just fine back home. Who in Ostralver would even think about messing with me?" Bradly fished out a menthol cigarette on autopilot, ready to light up, but he caught himself after glancing at Stella and shoved it back. He said, "All these years, folks have been whispering, or saying it straight to my face, that my company's thriving because of his pull. Like he's behind every damn thing. "And you? You flat-out refused to let me hold your hand back there. Trying to make me look like an idiot in front of him?" His expression iced over, the edge in his voice impossible to miss. Stella's frown deepened as she took it in. Even without knowing Milford all that well, she understood that Bradly's cocky antics in Ostralver, brushing people off like they were nothing, had always been propped up by Milford's clout. She'd assumed the brothers were tight, but clearly Bradly's respect was just for show; underneath, his grudge against Milford simmered deep. She could overlook a lot, but with things the way they were now, there was zero point in him putting on that phony hand-holding act. Stella gripped her bag, the one with the marriage license inside, and couldn't bite her tongue. "We haven't held hands in forever. It feels off to me." The car went dead quiet. She was right. Their physical closeness had dwindled so much that even she couldn't pinpoint the last time. Bradly's brow creased, and he snapped the cigarette filter clean off between his fingers. "What was that?" Stella met his eyes steadily. "From here on out, let's skip the pointless touchy-feely stuff. It just doesn't sit right." She hadn't even finished when the brakes screeched harshly. The car lurched to a halt on the empty shoulder of the road. Stella almost smacked into the window from the force, her pulse hammering as she barked, "Are you out of your mind?" Bradly loomed over her, fingers digging into her chin, irritation boiling in his glare. "Stella, do you have any idea what you're saying?" The pinch stung like crazy, and the absurdity of it all hit her as she wrestled to shove him off. "Is it not true? When's the last time we even held hands. Can you remember?" Bradly's gaze turned stormy, like she'd struck a raw spot. "I bet you're hung up on Milford, just like that girl from the second branch. That's why you pulled away in front of him. You're trying to cut ties with me?" "Bradly! What the hell are you babbling about?" Anger surged through her as she pushed harder. "Don't you dare pin your gross history on me!" The way the family had orbited Milford like he was the sun had obviously gotten under his skin. The more she resisted, the darker his look grew. Abruptly, he leaned in and smashed his mouth against hers. Stella's eyes flew wide, her head whipping aside to evade as she hammered at his shoulders with everything she had. He'd locked lips with Shanna god knows how often. The thought turned her stomach, so she clamped down and bit him hard. Bradly yelped in pain, jerking back as the fog cleared and he clocked what he'd just done, regret flashing across his face. Blood dotted his lip, but he brushed it off, lunging to wrap her in his arms. "I'm sorry, Stella, baby, I'm so sorry. I screwed up; it was a stupid impulse..." Drained of energy, Stella sagged into the passenger seat, letting him hold her while a barren wave of emptiness and revulsion washed over her. The hug she'd once melted into now repulsed her to her core. "Get off me." Her voice came out rough and scratchy. "Bradly, don't push me to hating you."
Chapter 1 Don't Want Him Anymore "I'm sorry, ma'am." On the other end of the line, the insurance customer service rep said coolly, "After checking our records, the car owner, Mr. Woodard, is indeed married, but the spouse listed here isn't you." Stella Daniels had gotten into a car accident on her way to the Woodard Group headquarters. She couldn't get through to Bradly Woodard on his phone, so she had no choice but to call the insurance company. The car was registered in Bradly's name, but as his wife, she should be able to process the claim too. "When Mr. Woodard picked up the car, he came with his wife and provided the original marriage license. Her last name is Erickson, and her full name is Shanna Erickson," the rep said. It hit Stella like a slap in the face. Dizziness washed over her in waves, leaving her whole body shaking uncontrollably. She and Bradly had been childhood sweethearts. Their families were old friends, and everyone in Ostralver's high society knew how clingy he was with her. Bradly couldn't stand being apart from her even for a single day. Three years ago, when Stella headed abroad for her studies, Bradly had the plane stopped just for her. During her three years in Ensland, he expanded his business overseas to make it easier to look after her. Sixteen thousand miles apart, he'd still fly across the ocean every week to see her. The year she came down with a severe lung illness and nearly didn't pull through, she spent a week in intensive care. Bradly ignored the infection risks and stayed right by her side, sliding a ring onto her finger. He said, "If anything happens to you, I'll go with you. We'll be husband and wife in the next life too." For Bradly's sake, she turned down her mentor's offer to stay on in the lab and headed back home. Brimming with excitement, she went to find him, planning to surprise him. But when she pushed open the door to the CEO's office, she saw a slender, pretty woman straddling his lap. The woman's innocent face tilted upward, her voice whiny and aggrieved. "Mr. Woodard, what happens to me now that Stella is back?" Bradly sat in his executive chair, his tall frame looming over her. A flash of ruthlessness crossed his stern features. "You? You're just her stand-in. Don't forget your place." He lifted his hand, pinching her delicate chin with a sneer. "Barely a three-out-of-ten resemblance, and you think you can compare to her?" Stella was still clutching the gift she'd prepared for him. With a loud "bang," it dropped to the floor, finally breaking the scene in the office. Bradly's face drained of color as he shoved the woman off and jumped to his feet. That woman was Shanna. After Stella caught them in the act, Bradly fired Shanna on the spot and pulled out all the stops to win her back. Bradly, the arrogant prince of Ostralver's elite circles, humbled himself to the dust before her, begging her to give him another chance. Any project she set her sights on, he'd drop without a second thought. He stood in the pouring rain outside her building for over a week, just for a glimpse of her. He said, "Stella, I'm not asking you to forgive me. At least let me explain. "I only ever saw Shanna as your replacement. You've been gone abroad for so long; I missed you terribly. I swear, I just kept her around. Nothing more ever happened between us. "That time you walked in, I'd had too much to drink, and she deliberately tempted me. I lost control for a moment... "I've already let her go, and she won't show up in our lives again. Stella, please, come back to me." Back then, Stella couldn't stand even the slightest betrayal. She insisted on breaking off the engagement. Until that one incident. She was kidnapped by a business rival. The kidnappers reneged on the deal, tied her up in an abandoned factory, and set the place ablaze. Bradly charged into the flames without a second thought to rescue her, shielding her from a collapsing steel beam. He ended up gravely injured, confined to bed for nearly six months. By risking his life, Bradly finally melted her resolve. Once he was out of the hospital, she accepted his proposal, and they threw a lavish wedding. In the two years since they tied the knot, he'd treated her just as devotedly as ever, with zero scandals. He even imposed a strict curfew on himself, heading home right on time every day. Even on out-of-town business trips, he'd video call her constantly. His partners would tease him about being henpecked. He never denied it. Instead, he'd grin proudly and say, "A real man takes care of his family." Memories rushed through Stella's mind like a whirlwind, every past moment flashing by in a blur. Her legs buckled, and she dropped to her knees, burying her face in her hands. She couldn't figure out which Bradly was the real one anymore. A bitter, mocking gleam sparked in her eyes. She thought, 'How absurd.' She'd been his wife for two years, and only now was she learning that even their marriage license had been a sham. Stella scrubbed her face hard, her bangs already soaked with cold sweat. She ignored the other driver's furious yelling and calmly dialed the police. They showed up fast. After finishing her statement, Stella left the station under a sky that had gone completely dark. Her phone lit up with several missed calls from Bradly. When she hadn't answered, he'd sent texts instead. Bradly: [Babe, I was tied up in a key meeting this afternoon. Signal jammers were on, so I missed your call. You okay?] Bradly: [I've got a client dinner tonight, so I'll be late getting home. I double-checked: no women involved, so no need to worry.] Bradly: [Head to bed early. Don't wait up. Love you.] Stella stared at the screen, a sharp wave of irony twisting in her gut. Bradly didn't stagger in until the wee hours. He reeked of alcohol, which almost, but not quite, masked the subtle whiff of perfume on him. "Honey..." He could barely keep his balance, stumbling over to wrap his arms around her through the blanket. "I missed you so damn much..." Stella didn't say a word. Only once he was dead to the world did she sit up quietly and unlock his phone with his fingerprint. The thing was squeaky clean, no suspicious traces at all. His contacts were mostly buddies and business folks, with hers pinned at the top as "Darling Wife." Flawlessly tidy, just like their sham of a marriage. Stella hooked the phone up to her computer, and it didn't take long to uncover his second WhatsApp account. She signed in, and right away, messages popped up from a profile with a cute pink kitten avatar, labeled "Baby." Shanna: [Bradly, thanks for tonight. Without you, I wouldn't have known what to do.] Shanna: [I've always thought meeting you was the luckiest thing that's ever happened to me. I won't intrude on your life. As long as you swing by to see me once in a while, that's enough to make me happy.] Stella scrolled back through the history. She'd suspected as much, but seeing it all laid out still hit her like a punch to the chest, leaving her breathless. They chatted nearly every day. Shanna never missed a good morning message, and Bradly's replies had shifted over time, from total silence at first, to sporadic responses, and now to answering every single one. A chill spread through her. Stella clutched the phone tighter, knowing she should quit while she was ahead but unable to stop herself from digging deeper. Shanna: [Bradly, sorry, I had a few drinks and lost it for a bit. Doc says I'm okay now, so don't stress.] Shanna: [Mrs. Woodard's birthday bash is important. Go enjoy it with her. I'll be fine.] Stella squeezed her eyes shut as the memory came rushing back. Her birthday. Bradly had spent over a month planning it down to the last detail, but that day, he was totally distracted. Hell, he almost cut his own hand while slicing the cake. When she'd asked what was up, he'd brushed it off as work drama, told her not to worry, then pulled her into a soft embrace and encouraged her to blow out the candles and make a wish. It all made sense now, as she stared at this chat log. That same day, Shanna had tried to kill herself by slashing her wrists and ended up in the ER. A sour bitterness flooded her chest like a rising tide. In those brief seconds when she'd closed her eyes to wish, she wondered, 'Was he agonizing over Shanna in the hospital, or picturing endless years together with her?' Stella knew she didn't need an answer to that anymore. She gently placed the phone back and looked down at Bradly, fast asleep beside her. She'd known him since she was four, and for the twenty years that followed, she'd truly believed his love was hers alone, irreplaceable. But now she saw it for what it was: just cheap free samples at a store, handed out to anyone who walked by. If that was all it amounted to, she was done with it. Chapter 2 Bid Against Her The next day, Stella woke to find Bradly busy in the kitchen, his broad shoulders narrowing to a slim waist, his tall, lean build moving with purpose. The sight hit her hard, a dull ache tightening in her chest. Bradly had learned to cook entirely for her sake. She still remembered that turbulent period when the Woodard Group was in crisis. His rivals had targeted her, paying off a servant to poison her food. She'd been unconscious for three full days. When she finally woke, Bradly was there, his eyes red-rimmed and veined with exhaustion, gripping her hand like a lifeline. The instant she stirred, the imposing Bradly crumbled forward, enveloping her in a hug as scalding tears fell onto her skin. From then on, Bradly threw himself into cooking lessons, taking charge of all her meals. In less than a month, he'd gone from a spoiled elite who couldn't distinguish spices to turning out dishes worthy of a Michelin chef. Just then, his phone rang. Stella glanced at it but made no move to answer. Bradly darted out of the kitchen, apron still on, grabbing the phone with a barely concealed flash of anxiety. Stella pretended not to notice and went to wash up. When she came back, the table was set with breakfast, and he was slipping into his suit jacket from the coat rack. Seeing her, he said gently, "There's an emergency at work. I have to run. Sorry I can't join you for breakfast." Stella murmured, "Sure, work comes first." He was clearly in a hurry, because he didn't pick up on the new edge of cool distance in her tone and rushed out. She stared blankly after him until he was gone, then dumped the entire spread into the trash. Then she picked up her phone and dialed a number. "That offer you made before? I'm on board." The person on the other end erupted in delight, chattering away before shifting to broken Andosa Language. "Stella, why the sudden change of heart? I've bugged you about this so many times, and you always said you were married now and focusing on family." A mocking glint flickered in Stella's eyes. She thought, 'Married? This so-called marriage has been dead on arrival.' The caller was her former mentor from her overseas studies. He'd reached out lately, hoping she'd join his new team and spearhead a major project. At the time, she'd kept saying no out of loyalty to Bradly. Now, she only wished she'd seen through the absurd joke of their marriage earlier. After the call, she contacted immigration to schedule a passport renewal. It would take about a week. But before heading out, she had one loose end to tie up. That evening, Stella showed up at a private auction at the Cloud Hotel. She was after one of her mother's keepsakes. Her mom had died when she was eight, and soon after, the Daniels family had liquidated her wedding gift. Stella had been hunting down the items ever since. Over the years, she'd only reclaimed a few. Tonight's auction featured a bracelet from that collection, one her mother had picked up on a trip to Ijance. It was utterly unique, irreplaceable. Whatever it took, she was getting it back. Stella settled into her seat just as the auction was about to start. She was flipping through the catalog when Bradly's voice floated over. "Didn't I already pick out that royal blue sapphire set for you? Not good enough?" His voice carried that familiar tenderness. Shanna linked her arm with his, pouting playfully. "Your taste sucks! I want to pick my own birthday gift." Stella watched them quietly until Bradly threaded through the guests and their gazes collided by chance. The color drained from his face. On pure reflex, he jerked his arm away from Shanna. "Stella." He strode over quickly. "I tried calling you a few times, but you didn't answer. Were you planning to surprise me?" Even though he tried to play it cool, she could still catch that subtle hint of panic in his expression. Stella didn't bother calling him on it, replying evenly, "My phone was on silent. I didn't hear it." Bradly visibly relaxed, casually taking her hand in his with a look of concern. "Your hands are like ice. Didn't I warn you about the cold snap today? You're always putting style over staying warm. If you catch a chill, you know it'll just kill me." As he talked, he signaled a server for a blanket and draped it snugly around her shoulders. Stella kept a straight face, brushing him off as she looked past him to Shanna, who lingered behind with a scowl. Shanna nibbled her lip, then defiantly dropped into the seat next to Bradly, her gaze simmering with irritation. Bradly leaned closer, dropping his voice to explain, "We just wrapped up a major project at the company, and Shanna pulled her weight big time. Her birthday's around the corner, so I thought I'd treat her to something as a project bonus." He eyed her anxiously. "Stella, you're not mad, right?" Shanna piped up in a soft, vulnerable tone. "Mrs. Woodard, if this upsets you, I'll just go. I don't want to get in the way of you and Mr. Woodard." Stella's mouth quirked into a smile that never touched her eyes. "We're married. A little thing like this? Of course it doesn't bother me." The auction got underway shortly after. Bradly treated Shanna like she was invisible, focusing entirely on Stella. He paged through the catalog, throwing in bids left and right. "Babe, this would look amazing on you." He grinned, tenderly brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his tone warm and intimate. "You'd be gorgeous in it." Stella averted her eyes, but out of the corner of her vision, she saw Shanna discreetly clutching the edge of Bradly's jacket in the dim light. Their gazes locked for a split second in a shared, lingering look. She masked the derision in her own eyes, struck by how absurd it all was. Bradly seemed totally at ease juggling both women, convinced he was keeping things balanced, one with the official status, the other with his undivided public attention. She thought, 'What could be fairer than that?' But Stella had never been interested in that kind of equilibrium. Her world extended far beyond romance. Bradly? He was just a small detour on her path, a misstep she'd own up to. And now, it was time to set things right. "Next up: a string of bracelet. Fine-grained texture, deep aroma that lingers. Starting bid at 170,000 dollars, with increments of at least 20,000 dollars!" The auctioneer's pumped-up voice echoed through the room. Finally, Stella's main target for the evening. Bids flew in fast, the screen flickering with updates as the auctioneer called out, "Number 17 lady at 200,000 dollars! Number 9 gentleman ups it to 260,000 dollars! Going higher?" Once the initial frenzy tapered off, Stella lifted her paddle. "500,000 dollars." She'd doubled the current bid in one go. It was a hefty amount. Sure, the bracelet was top-notch, but it wasn't the auction's highlight. The room went quiet after her call; no one countered. "Fantastic! Number 11 lady at 500,000 dollars! "500,000 dollars once! 500,000 dollars twice!" The auctioneer hoisted his gavel, poised to bring it down. "No more bids? Then 500,000 dollars—" "520,000 dollars," A gentle, hesitant voice interrupted. Shanna shrank against Bradly's side, paddle in hand, murmuring timidly to him, "Is this where I put in the amount?" Chapter 3 You're Dirty Stella frowned and raised her bid. "540,000 dollars." But Shanna was right behind her, countering with, "560,000 dollars." How annoyingly precise, each time, she stuck to the bare minimum, slapping on just 20,000 dollars more than Stella's offer. Shanna turned toward her, her voice dripping with plea. "Stella, you've got plenty of jewelry already. Please, let me have this one. I adore it. "I'm not like you, born with money, everything handed to you on a silver platter. You snap your fingers and get whatever you want. If it goes any higher, I really won't be able to keep up." Stella didn't bother looking at her, just quirking her lips in a thin smile. "Isn't Mr. Woodard covering the cost for you? What are you stressing about?" Shanna's face went a shade paler, but she answered in that soft, demure tone, "Even so, Mr. Woodard earns his money the hard way. If I can save him a bit, I ought to." She was the epitome of considerate and caring. After several more back-and-forth bids, the bracelet's price had soared to 700,000 dollars. Stella let out a chilly scoff and was opening her mouth to up the ante when Bradly beat her to it. He said, "Babe, why don't we just let Shanna take this bracelet?" Stella's fingers curled into a tight fist, her nails biting into her palm. She lifted her gaze, any lingering warmth in her eyes turning to ice. "What did you just say?" Bradly let out a resigned sigh, giving her hand a comforting pat as he murmured gently, "Babe, I already told Shanna she'd get a gift tonight, and she's got her heart set on this one. No need to compete with her. "Plus, I've already snagged you a handful of other pieces. Isn't that plenty?" He said it all lightly, teasingly, as if it were nothing more than a harmless quip. Stella shut her eyes, a nameless sourness creeping along her nerves, coiling around her heart until it felt like she couldn't draw a breath. Given Shanna's modest background, 700,000 dollars was way out of her league. She wouldn't even make the guest list here on her own. The only reason she was in that seat, trading bids blow for blow, was Bradly's backing. His pampering had delivered her straight into Stella's path. Stella whispered, "What if I refuse to back down?" She hoisted her paddle once more, her voice echoing through the room. "1 million dollars." A hush blanketed the hall. The auctioneer clearly picked up on the drama, his delivery faltering. "Number eleven at 1 million dollars. Do I hear higher?" Shanna's eyes welled up, on the verge of tears, as she cast a helpless look at Bradly before tacking on another fifty thousand. "1 million 20 thousand dollars." Stella's features hardened to frost, and she was poised to fire back when the manager bustled over, bending close to murmur, "Mrs. Woodard, apologies. We ran a credit verification on your account, and it's frozen. Got another one we can use?" The words slammed into her like a bolt from the blue, ringing in her ears. She snapped her head toward Bradly, but he'd already looked away. An icy numbness spread through her arms and legs. She though,t 'Of course, it has to be him.' Her primary account was linked with his; besides her, only he could authorize a freeze on her cards. Triumph flickered in Shanna's eyes as she added with a pointed edge, "Well, in that case, Mrs. Woodard, maybe it's time to step aside. You've got so much already. Can't you let me have this one little thing?" Up on stage, the auction rolled on, the display frozen on Shanna's latest bid: 1 million 20 thousand dollars. Shanna could hardly hide her glee, chirping sweetly, "Go on, call it!" But the words had barely left her lips when someone announced he would bid for the lot at any costs right in the second-floor VIP suite. After a momentary silence, the room burst into chaos. "He's declared absolute intent!" Even the auctioneer's expression changed. He'd been in the game for over a decade, but this was his first encounter with such a scenario. He hurriedly called out, "Lot number six goes to the gentleman in box 217, regardless of how high the price goes." Anyone up in those second-floor VIP suites was either swimming in money or held serious sway in Ostralver's upper crust. Stella glanced upward toward the source of the voice, catching only a vague outline behind the draped curtains. Even when she couldn't see his face, the man's crossed-legged posture radiated an unspoken dominance that pressed down on the room. The auctioneer slammed his gavel down with finality, proclaiming, "Congratulations to our esteemed guest in box 217 on winning lot number six! You're now upgraded to black gold status!" Across all of Ostralver's elite scene, fewer than a handful had ever hit black gold level at these events. Stella wondered, 'Just who is this mystery man?' Stella loosened her clenched fist slightly, torn between relief that her mother's heirloom hadn't landed in Shanna's clutches and anxiety over reclaiming it from this unknown figure. No matter what, she'd stop at nothing, pay any price, to bring her mother's possession home. She rose to her feet, intent on marching over to box 217 for a chat, when the attendant who'd just ducked inside reappeared, tray in hand with the bracelet. "What's this? The bidder in 217 having second thoughts?" "Auctions don't do take-backs." "Probably short on funds. I called it. No one's done this here before." As the murmurs swirled, the attendant headed straight for Stella, dipping into a courteous bow with a warm smile. She said, "Mrs. Woodard, the gentleman in box 217 requests that I deliver the bracelet to you as a gift. He wishes for you to follow your true path and for all to unfold as it should." The place erupted in gossip once more, with guests shooting glances her way, some envious, others skeptical, many flat-out stunned. "Isn't that Mrs. Woodard? What's her deal with the upstairs guy?" "Likely just buttering up Mr. Woodard." "Nah, I don't buy it. Out of all the goodies tonight, why zero in on those beads for Mrs. Woodard? Sounds like she's got a real connection there." The buzz filtered through, and Bradly's face turned stone-cold. In a tight, edged voice, he demanded, "Stella, what's the story with you and whoever's in box 217?" Stella held his piercing stare and said flatly, "I have no idea who he is." "!" Bradly jumped up, clamping down on her wrist like a vice. Her soft, fair skin reddened almost instantly under the pressure. Stella winced sharply, jerking her arm back on reflex. "Bradly, have you lost your mind? Haven't you stirred up enough drama for one day?" But he barreled on, blind to her fury, his reddened eyes locked on her as if he could swallow her up. "What's really between you two? "Stella, through all our married years, I've bent over backward for you. Anything you desired, I served it up without question. Why would you betray me like this?" In his mind, it was already a done deal: she was entangled in something shady with the man above. If the guy was angling for a favor from him, Bradly would've recognized him right away. People in Ostralver didn't beat around the bush when they needed something from him. They came direct. The jab landed raw and direct. Bradly blinked, frozen for a beat as a flicker of alarm shot through his eyes. Chapter 4 Don't Know You'd Come Bradly said, "I'm sorry, Stella. I didn't mean it like that. I had no right getting jealous over you and some stranger. It's all on me." Bradly's eyes reddened. "But honestly, there's nothing going on between Shanna and me. I just brought her along as a thank-you. Can you let this slide?" Seeing his cue, Shanna ducked her head meekly, her voice catching. "That's right, Mrs. Woodard. I've been bending over backward to keep my distance from Mr. Woodard so you wouldn't get the wrong impression. "I'm not asking for the world, just a decent birthday gift. I didn't grow up with your advantages; you've had everything handed to you and even snagged a catch like Mr. Woodard. Can't I at least pick out something for myself?" "Just a gift, huh?" Stella closed in on her, one step at a time. "Ms. Erickson, I've never given a damn about this 'gift' you're going on about. What gets under my skin is you, a Woodard Group employee, crossing lines you have no business crossing." As they drew closer, Bradly instinctively stepped in front of Shanna, his voice soft and coaxing. "Stella, if it's bugging you this much, I'll transfer her to a branch office once the auction's over. "But for now, cut me some slack. Let Shanna have the bracelet. When we get home, name your price on anything, and it's yours." Shanna bobbed her head in agreement, tears glistening on her lashes as she pleaded, "Stella, I really adore this bracelet. You've got it all already. Why go after the one thing I want? "Or is this just because you hate my guts and can't resist taking shots at me?" "What makes you think I'd ever like you?" Stella let out a cold snort. "This belonged to me from the start. Why the hell would I give it up?" She took the bracelet from the attendant with casual ease, her smile sharp but empty. "Ms. Erickson, know your place." Her refusal to budge finally wore through Bradly's patience, erasing every bit of softness from his face. "Stella, do you have to humiliate me like this in front of everyone? Where does that leave my dignity? "It's just a crappy old bracelet. Am I really worth less to you than some trinket?" He said it with such conviction, as if he'd wiped from his memory the solemn vow he'd made when proposing: that he'd hunt down every single one of her mother's sold-off keepsakes, no matter what. Stella's hand flew up, delivering a resounding slap across his cheek. The sharp crack rang out, pulling shocked stares from every corner of the room. Bradly's head snapped sideways, his face livid as he fixed her with a glare, his words hissing through clenched teeth. "Stella, drop the drama already. Have I pampered you too much these days, turning you into this unreasonable nightmare?" Stella reined in her temper, keeping her tone even. "Bradly, you better not live to regret today." Without another word, she turned and walked out, not sparing a backward glance. As her figure receded, Shanna gently touched the angry red mark on Bradly's cheek, her voice full of worry. "Mr. Woodard, are you okay? "Stella's got no boundaries. How could she hit you with all these people watching?" Bradly swatted her hand aside, his nails digging into his palm as he stared after her retreating path. "I've spoiled her rotten, letting her forget that everything she has comes from me." Shanna peeked at his changing expression, testing the waters. "Mr. Woodard, about the bracelet..." Bradly rubbed his throbbing cheek, pulled a bank card from his pocket, and handed it over. "1.7 million dollars on there. Buy whatever catches your eye." Box 217, Stella rapped on the door, eager to thank the mystery bidder face-to-face. Silence. She caught a server walking by. "Excuse me, any idea where the gentleman from this box headed?" "He slipped out right after nabbing the last item," the server said. Disappointment flashed in her eyes, but Stella pressed on, "Do you know who he was?" The server gave her a regretful smile. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard, we're not allowed to spill on our VIPs. Don't make this harder for us." Catching herself, Stella moved out of the way. "Thanks all the same." By the time she made it home from the auction, an hour had ticked by. Stella went straight up to the study, fired up the computer, and dove into the assets registered under her and Bradly's names. After tallying up the numbers, she snatched her phone, found lawyer Rubin Cobb's contact, and hit dial. She said, "I've sorted out the asset division documents for me and Bradly and sent them over. I need you to handle the property split by tomorrow." Rubin quickly received the files and nodded respectfully. "Of course, Mrs. Woodard. I'll get right on it." Stella stared intently at her computer screen, her grip tightening on the mouse. "If Bradly's committed bigamy, how should our assets be divided?" "Generally, any property the bigamous party gained through the bigamy can be claimed back by the other spouse," Rubin replied matter-of-factly. Half of Bradly's current wealth had come from Stella's investments to support his career early on. Her expression darkened, and she promptly forwarded the marriage license between him and Shanna. "Rubin, please use every legal avenue to recover my half of the assets." After hanging up, Stella slumped back in her chair, utterly drained physically and emotionally. She closed her eyes slowly, but sleep was nowhere in sight. Bradly would never agree to a divorce. Until she had everything locked down, she couldn't let on that anything was amiss. Just then, the study door was kicked open from the outside. Bradly flung his jacket onto the desk and yanked Stella up from her seat in front of the computer. "Do you realize that because of your little outburst, I've become a laughingstock in our circles? "What exactly do you want? Are you still obsessing over what happened back then?" Stella opened her eyes slowly, her gaze settling calmly on Bradly, but she remained silent. A fire raged in Bradly's chest, intensifying by the second, and he couldn't hold back his fury any longer. "Since we got married, have I ever done anything to wrong you? I come home right on time every night after work, I always fill you in on any business dinners, and if there's even a hint of a woman involved, I skip them entirely! I've bent over backward, and it's still not good enough for you?" He remembered every detail crystal clear. In his mind, these were the sacrifices he'd made to marry her. Stella suddenly found the whole thing absurd. She couldn't bear to look at him anymore, so she stood up and walked straight out of the study without a backward glance. Behind her, Bradly's voice echoed heavily. "Stella, no matter what you think, my conscience is clear." It felt like Stella's heart had been shattered into icy fragments, a sharp, bitter pain surging through her. Her mind buzzed, and for a moment, all she could hear was that phrase repeating over and over. She thought, 'My conscience is clear? So, in his eyes, everything he's done is perfectly justifiable.' The next morning, when Stella woke up, Bradly was already gone. On the table sat the breakfast he'd prepared, tailored exactly to her tastes. Stella pressed her lips together, her feelings a complicated tangle. They'd ended things on a sour note last night, yet Bradly had still made her breakfast this morning. But this was the same man who'd lied to her for years. No matter what, it was time to end things with Bradly. She didn't touch the food and headed straight to the office. These past few years, she'd stayed out of Bradly's business dealings. A lot of her old financial records were outdated now, and she needed the latest reports. The secretary looked startled when she saw her, then managed to say, "Mrs. Woodard, are you here to see Mr. Woodard?" "No." Stella replied evenly. "Send the finance manager in to see me." Her shares were second only to Bradly's, giving her full access to every aspect of the company. The secretary hesitated briefly before nodding. Stella noticed her immediately turning to make a phone call, probably alerting Bradly. Stella didn't intervene; let her. She settled into the finance office, sipping her coffee absentmindedly while flipping through magazines on the shelf. Most were glossy entertainment rags, mixed in with novels and comics. Stella frowned, only now picking up on the details: the desk was covered in a pink plaid mat, cluttered with adorable plush toys. The standout pair was a set of couple dolls, their outfits emblazoned with the letters W and E. It hit Stella suddenly what that meant, and just then, the door behind her swung open. Shanna rushed in. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard." She was clutching a cup of coffee as she apologized. "I had no idea you'd drop by like this..." Chapter 5 All For Milford Stella arched an eyebrow as she looked her over. "So you're the finance manager?" Shanna nodded with a quick smile. "That's me. If you need anything at all, just say the word. Bradly, well, Mr. Woodard is tied up in a meeting right now. But don't worry, I'll make sure to relay whatever message you have." Stella let out a soft laugh. "No need for that." She regarded Shanna with clear curiosity. "I'm not looking for Bradly. I'm here to see you." Shanna's smile faltered for a moment before she recovered, her tone turning gentle. "Mrs. Woodard, I get that you're still bothered by what went down at the auction last night, but there's no reason to be so worked up about my connection to Mr. Woodard. After all..." She raised her hand, the elegant diamond ring on her finger glinting under the light, perfectly complementing her bashful grin. "I'm already married, and things are great between me and my husband." Stella's eyes locked on the ring, her breath hitching just for an instant. It was ridiculous. In this whole messed-up situation, she was the one playing the role of the mistress. The ring was an exact match for the one Bradly had given her during his proposal. But within seconds, Stella averted her gaze. "It's a lovely ring, but you're mistaken." She spoke unhurriedly, "I'm just here to grab the latest financial report from you. That's all." Stella caught the sour shift in Shanna's expression and smiled to herself. "Seems like you're the one on edge here, Ms. Erickson." Shanna's face transformed completely, that smug spark in her eyes snuffed out. She bit her lip, unable to find words for a long beat. Stella watched her with unruffled poise. "Do I need to repeat my request, Ms. Erickson?" The words had barely left her mouth when Bradly burst in, his expression clouding over at the sight. "Stella, wasn't the scene from last night enough?" His voice was laced with ice. "How long are you planning to drag this out? I've told you already. There's nothing going on between me and Shanna. If you don't believe me..." Stella interrupted him mid-sentence, "Oh, I believe you. Absolutely." A faint smirk tugged at her lips, though her eyes remained frosty as they settled on Shanna. "After all, Ms. Erickson's already married. She just mentioned it herself." The statement landed like a bomb. Shanna's face drained of color, and Bradly's followed suit. He shot her a withering glare. Tears sprang to Shanna's eyes in an instant. Stella had no interest in watching the drama unfold any further. She said evenly, "I'm here for this year's financials. I hold forty percent of the company. Surely I can access that, right?" Bradly seemed to snap back to reality, nodding hastily. "Of course you can." He barked orders at the secretary to fetch it immediately, all the while stealing wary glances at her face. Once he confirmed she wasn't giving anything away, he exhaled almost imperceptibly in relief. He said, "Stella, what's with the sudden interest? You've never bothered with company matters before." Stella answered coolly, "After the account freeze last night, I decided it's smarter to set up a separate one." Bradly's expression froze again. "Stella..." The secretary returned promptly with the report. Stella brushed Bradly aside, skimmed through it quickly, and was heading for the door when he caught her by the wrist. He said, "Stella, about the family dinner tonight, are you coming home with me?" His tone was pleading, like he needed her answer to reassure himself that she hadn't caught on to anything fishy. Stella didn't look back, just replying calmly, "Sure." Bradly's face lit up. "Great, I'll swing by after work to pick you up." Stella dropped her gaze, masking the cool detachment in her eyes. She'd only agreed to head back to the family estate for one specific reason. The marriage license from when she and Bradly had tied the knot was a phony, but he'd made a whole production out of stashing it away at the house, claiming it had to be kept secure. Nothing could serve as stronger proof. Once she got her hands on it, his bigamy would be ironclad. Stella didn't bother waiting for Bradly; she hailed a cab and got there ahead of time. She'd figured it was just a standard family gathering, but she was caught off guard by the full turnout. Bradly's parents, fresh from their overseas vacation last week, were back, and even the distant relatives from the Woodard family's side branches had shown up en masse. "Stella, dear." As she walked in, Nadine Woodard peered over her shoulder. "Bradly didn't come with you?" Stella answered evenly, "He'll be along shortly." Nadine clicked her tongue, her irritation obvious. "On an important occasion like this, letting someone from outside the family arrive solo, what's got into him?" Stella's brow furrowed just a touch. She and Bradly had been engaged since childhood, but after her mother's passing, the Daniels family's status had tanked while the Woodard family kept climbing. That was when Nadine started pushing to scrap the arrangement, and she'd mentioned it more than a few times. But Chuck Woodard was upright and principled, flat-out refusing to play the social-climbing game. With Bradly dead set on marrying her and no one else, Nadine had reluctantly given in, though she made her resentment clear. Even after the marriage, she never passed up an opportunity to give Stella the cold shoulder. She was about to add something else when the butler rushed in and murmured, "He's here." Nadine promptly dropped the subject with Stella and jumped to her feet, the extended family hustling out right behind her to welcome the arrivals. The level of pomp surprised Stella. The Woodard family was already at the top of Ostralver's social elite. For them to pull out all the stops like this... Standing at the edge of the group, Stella glanced up and saw a black Maybach rolling up to the front of the estate. Someone hurried forward to open the door respectfully, and a tall, imposing figure stepped out unhurriedly. The man wore a sleek black suit, his chiseled features sharp, eyes as midnight, radiating a fierce intensity. Every gesture exuded a natural poise and authority that made it tough to hold his stare. The crowd swarmed forward in a rush, but he stayed cool and detached the whole time, his stunningly handsome face as impassive as carved ice, showing zero emotion. Then, as if picking up on something, he looked up toward Stella. Their eyes locked unexpectedly, sending her heart pounding. It was Milford Woodard, Bradly's brother. He'd returned to the country. Though they were brothers in name, Milford wasn't all that tight with the family. He'd headed overseas young and had spent years growing the business abroad. His father Edward Woodard was a total lightweight, good only at spending cash, not earning it. His grandpa Chuck had the smarts and drive, but age was catching up, leaving him unable to manage it all. Real power over the Woodard family had shifted to Milford ages ago. Stella let out a quiet breath. She thought, 'That explains the big crowd today. They've all turned out for Milford.' Chapter 6 Need Help? Stella lingered in the corner of the living room, watching the relatives descend like a swarm of locusts, all scrambling to surround Milford. Bradly stood next to Nadine, flashing a polished smile as he greeted, "Hey, Milford." The uncles who'd been buttering up Bradly just a minute ago quickly switched gears, beaming with over-the-top enthusiasm as they stepped up to say hello. "Milford, what prompted the sudden return?" "Milford, I hear you're in the middle of acquiring a domestic company? You're just getting more impressive by the day." "Come on inside, take a seat. We've got some top-shelf coffee." Bradly caught the stark contrast in the uncles' warmth, his smile fading briefly before he pulled it together and led the way forward. Stella quietly eyed the tall, strikingly handsome Milford striding into the living room like the star of the show, instinctively edging back a step. Now fully pushed to the fringes of the crowd, she shifted aside to let the trailing group pass, doing everything she could to blend into the wallpaper. Milford approached steadily. Unlike Bradly's flashy, outgoing vibe, he had a more brooding, aloof kind of handsomeness, like a pine tree blanketed in snow, regal and intimidating. He acknowledged the flattery around him with simple nods, his eyes scanning the room casually, subtly taking stock of everyone there. Until his gaze swept over Stella again, and he came to an abrupt halt. He paused, causing Bradly to stop too. "Something wrong, Milford?" Milford didn't respond, his steady gaze fixed on Stella. It was only a look, but it jolted her to her core. She felt an odd sense of being claimed, uninvited. Yet she'd barely crossed paths with Milford before. Bradly and the others traced his stare, his eyebrow quirking up. "Stella, come say hi to Big Milford." Stella started to step forward, but Milford beat her to it, walking straight toward her. Bradly and the rest exchanged surprised glances. So far, everyone had been approaching Milford. He hadn't initiated with a soul. Milford's deep eyes gave nothing away. "Stella?" Her breath hitched, like a faint breeze had brushed her ear. She hadn't anticipated him coming over to chat. It had been years, and they'd only met once or twice, but he still remembered her. Stella nodded. "Milford, it's been ages—" Before she could finish, Milford held out his hand. The move was so casual, so natural. Out of pure reflex and politeness, Stella extended hers, their palms connecting. In that brief clasp, she felt him squeeze gently, his thumb settling on her fingers and grazing them with a warm intensity. Milford released after just a second. Suddenly, Bradly sidled up, drawing Stella into his side with an arm around her waist, lacing his fingers through her left hand. He said, "Milford, how long are you in town this time? Stella and I can take you out to dinner one of these days." Milford took in their cozy pose, his glance dropping to their intertwined hands. "About a month." The words had barely left his mouth when Chuck came down the stairs, leaning on the butler for support. Milford headed over to talk with him. Not long after, the kitchen called that the party was ready. Stella trailed Bradly to their seats on the left side of the main table. Everyone filed in and sat. As the eldest branch, the two Woodard brothers took priority. Chuck claimed the head of the main table, with Nadine and Milford next in line. Stella and Bradly fell further down the order, landing her right across from Milford on the diagonal. The family feast got underway, with everyone firing questions at Milford about what he'd been up to lately. Stella kept her head down, nibbling at her food while catching bits of the conversation. Zrester bigwig, major stakeholder in Wonder Group, founder of that financial exchange and the smart transportation AI... Milford's credentials were endless and mind-blowing. She thought back to that Zrester party invite list she'd snagged years ago. Milford was third from the top, while she languished at the bottom. In all these years, she'd had next to no interaction with him. Right after the wedding, this mysterious Milford had only shown up once. He dropped off a gift and vanished. In just a handful of years, Milford had climbed to the pinnacle of Zrester's power players. His talent was obvious. Before long, the family party wound down, and folks scattered to grab desserts. Still hung up on that marriage license, Stella excused herself to head upstairs for a coat change. Bradly was itching to chat with Milford, his gaze fixed that way as he muttered distractedly, "Yeah, go on up." Stella wasted no time hustling upstairs. With the crowd milling about downstairs, she slipped to the third floor of the villa and nudged open Bradly's bedroom door. There it was: the glaring marriage license perched right on top of the nightstand, framed, flanked by their wedding portrait. As she stepped closer, memories of Bradly's cozy moments with Shanna flooded her brain, her nails digging slowly into her palm. That license seared her eyes, like it was sneering at her gullibility. She never should've caved, never should've handed Bradly a second shot. It just went to show that people's hearts circled back for seconds. Disgust flickered in her eyes as she hauled the desk's computer chair over, the kind with wheels and a swivel, shaky at best. She climbed onto it, planting one foot on the bed for stability, teetering just enough to hold steady. Stella hiked up her pearl-white knee-length dress a bit and stretched upward slowly. Fingers extended to the max, but she was still a couple inches shy. She rose onto her tiptoes, straining, but no dice. Frowning from her perch, she scanned around and snagged a book from beside the cabinet. As she leaned down, footsteps suddenly echoed outside the door. Fast, but measured. A man's, for sure. Her pulse spiked. She clutched the table, scrambling to hop down, but, perfect timing, her other sleeve caught on the cabinet's edge. She tugged frantically to break free, but it was too late to descend. The door flew open out of nowhere. Stella went rigid, her knees giving way as she toppled backward off the chair. A quick yelp escaped her, but the expected crash never hit. A firm hand latched precisely onto her thigh, another banding around her waist, hauling her into a solid hold and planting her feet firmly on the floor. She slammed into a warm, toned chest, a crisp, grounding sandalwood aroma enveloping her, not Bradly's scent. Stella glanced up, nearly clipping the guy's chin. Milford let go right away, backing off a step to give her space. Her cheeks burned, the thigh he'd gripped feeling like it was on fire. Mortified and frozen, she stammered, "Th-thanks." Milford stayed composed, his eyes skimming her flushed face and the pinkened patch of skin on her thigh from his hold. His Adam's apple dipped subtly. "Didn't realize you were in here. My bad." Stella shook her head, even more flustered. She was the one imposing on him. Milford flicked a glance upward. "Need some help?" She looked too. Up top, the marriage license screamed for attention. Chapter 7 Don't Let Me Hate You Stella just came out with it. "I want to get the marriage license down." Milford hesitated for a beat, without probing why she needed it, and slid the chair out of the way. Tall and long-limbed, he barely had to tip up on his toes to snag it effortlessly. Milford skimmed the lettering on the license, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes before the faintest quirk tugged at his lips, almost undetectable. He passed it over to Stella. "Ah, I see." She missed the words, taking it with a soft murmur: "Thanks, Milford." Her palms were slick with sweat now, but holding the certificate still sent an icy shiver through her. Those bold letters were a brutal reminder. This whole marriage had been one big joke. From beginning to end, Bradly's grand performance of undying love had always had a third wheel in the shadows. Milford dropped his gaze. Towering over her, all he could make out was the neat swirl at the top of her head, round and oddly appealing. Those slim, pale hands gripped the certificate like a vise, completely bloodless. Milford asked offhandedly, "So, what's the marriage license for?" "Oh, I just want to bring it home and store it there," Stella shot back, pulling an excuse out of thin air. Milford's stare felt like it enveloped her, the heat of it almost scorching, though he kept his hands to himself. Then he casually adjusted his cufflinks and turned to go. Stella let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, sagging against the cool cabinet. Her thigh still tingled with warmth from his grip; she quickly smoothed her skirt down, tucked the license into her bag, and only left the room once everything looked undisturbed. Bradly was still out in the back garden, deep in conversation. Stella kept her face neutral, strolling over to stand at his side. A few relatives were chatting with him. "Hey, word is Milford actually got back a couple days ago, but only tipped us off today." Bradly looked taken aback. "I thought he was flying in today?" "Nope, sounds like he hit up some auction. I only heard bits and pieces, supposedly the other night at the Empire Auction House." "He must not have gone. I was there that evening too, and I didn't see him anywhere," Bradly said, frowning in confusion. Stella's eyelashes flickered subtly, but she played it cool. Out of nowhere, her mind jumped back to that enigmatic bidder in suite 217. She wondered, 'Could Milford be the mystery guest who got the bracelet for me?' She shoved the thought down as soon as it surfaced. They'd only crossed paths once, total strangers really, connected by the flimsiest in-law tie. No matter how you sliced it, Milford wouldn't stick his neck out for her. Just like Bradly said, he hadn't caught wind of anything, so it couldn't be Milford. Stella let it go. After some more mingling, the group started to break up. Bradly steered her over to bid farewell to Milford. "Mom, Milford, we're taking off. Let's set up a family dinner soon when things settle." Milford slouched back in his chair with effortless nonchalance and gave a nod. "I'm knee-deep in an acquisition, no hurry on the get-together. But you..." He lifted his head, his expression sharpening. "Keep your life on the straight and narrow. Don't veer off track." The edge of warning in his voice was crystal clear. Bradly had grown up overshadowed by Milford; he went rigid but brushed it off casually. "Come on, everything's good. My company's running smooth as ever. If you're skeptical, drop by anytime and pore over the financials—knock yourself out." "It's not just about the company," Milford said softly, eyes down as he savored a sip of coffee. Stella couldn't help stealing a glance at him, and in that instant, a ridiculous idea struck her. From what Bradly had mentioned, Milford was abroad most of the time but still had the inside scoop on everything back home. She wondered, 'Does he know about the shady stuff Bradly is up to on the sly?' "Milford, I hear you. I'll make sure to nurture my marriage with Stella, our whole life together." Bradly grinned, threading his fingers through Stella's. Milford's gaze lingered on their joined hands for a second before drifting away, sealed with a subtle nod. Stella had no desire for any more close contact with Bradly, so she subtly shook his hand free without thinking. A split second later, his disbelieving stare locked onto her face, and he tried to grab her again. She'd known her move would humiliate him in the moment, so she didn't bother saying goodbye to Milford. She just turned and walked out ahead. Once they slid into the car, Bradly shed his polite, deferential mask from earlier, reverting to his entitled rich-kid swagger. He tugged his tie loose, a flicker of annoyance pinching his brows. "Always playing the big-brother card to chew me out, same crap since we were little. "So what if he's crushing it overseas? I'm holding my own just fine back home. Who in Ostralver would even think about messing with me?" Bradly fished out a menthol cigarette on autopilot, ready to light up, but he caught himself after glancing at Stella and shoved it back. He said, "All these years, folks have been whispering, or saying it straight to my face, that my company's thriving because of his pull. Like he's behind every damn thing. "And you? You flat-out refused to let me hold your hand back there. Trying to make me look like an idiot in front of him?" His expression iced over, the edge in his voice impossible to miss. Stella's frown deepened as she took it in. Even without knowing Milford all that well, she understood that Bradly's cocky antics in Ostralver, brushing people off like they were nothing, had always been propped up by Milford's clout. She'd assumed the brothers were tight, but clearly Bradly's respect was just for show; underneath, his grudge against Milford simmered deep. She could overlook a lot, but with things the way they were now, there was zero point in him putting on that phony hand-holding act. Stella gripped her bag, the one with the marriage license inside, and couldn't bite her tongue. "We haven't held hands in forever. It feels off to me." The car went dead quiet. She was right. Their physical closeness had dwindled so much that even she couldn't pinpoint the last time. Bradly's brow creased, and he snapped the cigarette filter clean off between his fingers. "What was that?" Stella met his eyes steadily. "From here on out, let's skip the pointless touchy-feely stuff. It just doesn't sit right." She hadn't even finished when the brakes screeched harshly. The car lurched to a halt on the empty shoulder of the road. Stella almost smacked into the window from the force, her pulse hammering as she barked, "Are you out of your mind?" Bradly loomed over her, fingers digging into her chin, irritation boiling in his glare. "Stella, do you have any idea what you're saying?" The pinch stung like crazy, and the absurdity of it all hit her as she wrestled to shove him off. "Is it not true? When's the last time we even held hands. Can you remember?" Bradly's gaze turned stormy, like she'd struck a raw spot. "I bet you're hung up on Milford, just like that girl from the second branch. That's why you pulled away in front of him. You're trying to cut ties with me?" "Bradly! What the hell are you babbling about?" Anger surged through her as she pushed harder. "Don't you dare pin your gross history on me!" The way the family had orbited Milford like he was the sun had obviously gotten under his skin. The more she resisted, the darker his look grew. Abruptly, he leaned in and smashed his mouth against hers. Stella's eyes flew wide, her head whipping aside to evade as she hammered at his shoulders with everything she had. He'd locked lips with Shanna god knows how often. The thought turned her stomach, so she clamped down and bit him hard. Bradly yelped in pain, jerking back as the fog cleared and he clocked what he'd just done, regret flashing across his face. Blood dotted his lip, but he brushed it off, lunging to wrap her in his arms. "I'm sorry, Stella, baby, I'm so sorry. I screwed up; it was a stupid impulse..." Drained of energy, Stella sagged into the passenger seat, letting him hold her while a barren wave of emptiness and revulsion washed over her. The hug she'd once melted into now repulsed her to her core. "Get off me." Her voice came out rough and scratchy. "Bradly, don't push me to hating you."
Chapter 1 Don't Want Him Anymore "I'm sorry, ma'am." On the other end of the line, the insurance customer service rep said coolly, "After checking our records, the car owner, Mr. Woodard, is indeed married, but the spouse listed here isn't you." Stella Daniels had gotten into a car accident on her way to the Woodard Group headquarters. She couldn't get through to Bradly Woodard on his phone, so she had no choice but to call the insurance company. The car was registered in Bradly's name, but as his wife, she should be able to process the claim too. "When Mr. Woodard picked up the car, he came with his wife and provided the original marriage license. Her last name is Erickson, and her full name is Shanna Erickson," the rep said. It hit Stella like a slap in the face. Dizziness washed over her in waves, leaving her whole body shaking uncontrollably. She and Bradly had been childhood sweethearts. Their families were old friends, and everyone in Ostralver's high society knew how clingy he was with her. Bradly couldn't stand being apart from her even for a single day. Three years ago, when Stella headed abroad for her studies, Bradly had the plane stopped just for her. During her three years in Ensland, he expanded his business overseas to make it easier to look after her. Sixteen thousand miles apart, he'd still fly across the ocean every week to see her. The year she came down with a severe lung illness and nearly didn't pull through, she spent a week in intensive care. Bradly ignored the infection risks and stayed right by her side, sliding a ring onto her finger. He said, "If anything happens to you, I'll go with you. We'll be husband and wife in the next life too." For Bradly's sake, she turned down her mentor's offer to stay on in the lab and headed back home. Brimming with excitement, she went to find him, planning to surprise him. But when she pushed open the door to the CEO's office, she saw a slender, pretty woman straddling his lap. The woman's innocent face tilted upward, her voice whiny and aggrieved. "Mr. Woodard, what happens to me now that Stella is back?" Bradly sat in his executive chair, his tall frame looming over her. A flash of ruthlessness crossed his stern features. "You? You're just her stand-in. Don't forget your place." He lifted his hand, pinching her delicate chin with a sneer. "Barely a three-out-of-ten resemblance, and you think you can compare to her?" Stella was still clutching the gift she'd prepared for him. With a loud "bang," it dropped to the floor, finally breaking the scene in the office. Bradly's face drained of color as he shoved the woman off and jumped to his feet. That woman was Shanna. After Stella caught them in the act, Bradly fired Shanna on the spot and pulled out all the stops to win her back. Bradly, the arrogant prince of Ostralver's elite circles, humbled himself to the dust before her, begging her to give him another chance. Any project she set her sights on, he'd drop without a second thought. He stood in the pouring rain outside her building for over a week, just for a glimpse of her. He said, "Stella, I'm not asking you to forgive me. At least let me explain. "I only ever saw Shanna as your replacement. You've been gone abroad for so long; I missed you terribly. I swear, I just kept her around. Nothing more ever happened between us. "That time you walked in, I'd had too much to drink, and she deliberately tempted me. I lost control for a moment... "I've already let her go, and she won't show up in our lives again. Stella, please, come back to me." Back then, Stella couldn't stand even the slightest betrayal. She insisted on breaking off the engagement. Until that one incident. She was kidnapped by a business rival. The kidnappers reneged on the deal, tied her up in an abandoned factory, and set the place ablaze. Bradly charged into the flames without a second thought to rescue her, shielding her from a collapsing steel beam. He ended up gravely injured, confined to bed for nearly six months. By risking his life, Bradly finally melted her resolve. Once he was out of the hospital, she accepted his proposal, and they threw a lavish wedding. In the two years since they tied the knot, he'd treated her just as devotedly as ever, with zero scandals. He even imposed a strict curfew on himself, heading home right on time every day. Even on out-of-town business trips, he'd video call her constantly. His partners would tease him about being henpecked. He never denied it. Instead, he'd grin proudly and say, "A real man takes care of his family." Memories rushed through Stella's mind like a whirlwind, every past moment flashing by in a blur. Her legs buckled, and she dropped to her knees, burying her face in her hands. She couldn't figure out which Bradly was the real one anymore. A bitter, mocking gleam sparked in her eyes. She thought, 'How absurd.' She'd been his wife for two years, and only now was she learning that even their marriage license had been a sham. Stella scrubbed her face hard, her bangs already soaked with cold sweat. She ignored the other driver's furious yelling and calmly dialed the police. They showed up fast. After finishing her statement, Stella left the station under a sky that had gone completely dark. Her phone lit up with several missed calls from Bradly. When she hadn't answered, he'd sent texts instead. Bradly: [Babe, I was tied up in a key meeting this afternoon. Signal jammers were on, so I missed your call. You okay?] Bradly: [I've got a client dinner tonight, so I'll be late getting home. I double-checked: no women involved, so no need to worry.] Bradly: [Head to bed early. Don't wait up. Love you.] Stella stared at the screen, a sharp wave of irony twisting in her gut. Bradly didn't stagger in until the wee hours. He reeked of alcohol, which almost, but not quite, masked the subtle whiff of perfume on him. "Honey..." He could barely keep his balance, stumbling over to wrap his arms around her through the blanket. "I missed you so damn much..." Stella didn't say a word. Only once he was dead to the world did she sit up quietly and unlock his phone with his fingerprint. The thing was squeaky clean, no suspicious traces at all. His contacts were mostly buddies and business folks, with hers pinned at the top as "Darling Wife." Flawlessly tidy, just like their sham of a marriage. Stella hooked the phone up to her computer, and it didn't take long to uncover his second WhatsApp account. She signed in, and right away, messages popped up from a profile with a cute pink kitten avatar, labeled "Baby." Shanna: [Bradly, thanks for tonight. Without you, I wouldn't have known what to do.] Shanna: [I've always thought meeting you was the luckiest thing that's ever happened to me. I won't intrude on your life. As long as you swing by to see me once in a while, that's enough to make me happy.] Stella scrolled back through the history. She'd suspected as much, but seeing it all laid out still hit her like a punch to the chest, leaving her breathless. They chatted nearly every day. Shanna never missed a good morning message, and Bradly's replies had shifted over time, from total silence at first, to sporadic responses, and now to answering every single one. A chill spread through her. Stella clutched the phone tighter, knowing she should quit while she was ahead but unable to stop herself from digging deeper. Shanna: [Bradly, sorry, I had a few drinks and lost it for a bit. Doc says I'm okay now, so don't stress.] Shanna: [Mrs. Woodard's birthday bash is important. Go enjoy it with her. I'll be fine.] Stella squeezed her eyes shut as the memory came rushing back. Her birthday. Bradly had spent over a month planning it down to the last detail, but that day, he was totally distracted. Hell, he almost cut his own hand while slicing the cake. When she'd asked what was up, he'd brushed it off as work drama, told her not to worry, then pulled her into a soft embrace and encouraged her to blow out the candles and make a wish. It all made sense now, as she stared at this chat log. That same day, Shanna had tried to kill herself by slashing her wrists and ended up in the ER. A sour bitterness flooded her chest like a rising tide. In those brief seconds when she'd closed her eyes to wish, she wondered, 'Was he agonizing over Shanna in the hospital, or picturing endless years together with her?' Stella knew she didn't need an answer to that anymore. She gently placed the phone back and looked down at Bradly, fast asleep beside her. She'd known him since she was four, and for the twenty years that followed, she'd truly believed his love was hers alone, irreplaceable. But now she saw it for what it was: just cheap free samples at a store, handed out to anyone who walked by. If that was all it amounted to, she was done with it. Chapter 2 Bid Against Her The next day, Stella woke to find Bradly busy in the kitchen, his broad shoulders narrowing to a slim waist, his tall, lean build moving with purpose. The sight hit her hard, a dull ache tightening in her chest. Bradly had learned to cook entirely for her sake. She still remembered that turbulent period when the Woodard Group was in crisis. His rivals had targeted her, paying off a servant to poison her food. She'd been unconscious for three full days. When she finally woke, Bradly was there, his eyes red-rimmed and veined with exhaustion, gripping her hand like a lifeline. The instant she stirred, the imposing Bradly crumbled forward, enveloping her in a hug as scalding tears fell onto her skin. From then on, Bradly threw himself into cooking lessons, taking charge of all her meals. In less than a month, he'd gone from a spoiled elite who couldn't distinguish spices to turning out dishes worthy of a Michelin chef. Just then, his phone rang. Stella glanced at it but made no move to answer. Bradly darted out of the kitchen, apron still on, grabbing the phone with a barely concealed flash of anxiety. Stella pretended not to notice and went to wash up. When she came back, the table was set with breakfast, and he was slipping into his suit jacket from the coat rack. Seeing her, he said gently, "There's an emergency at work. I have to run. Sorry I can't join you for breakfast." Stella murmured, "Sure, work comes first." He was clearly in a hurry, because he didn't pick up on the new edge of cool distance in her tone and rushed out. She stared blankly after him until he was gone, then dumped the entire spread into the trash. Then she picked up her phone and dialed a number. "That offer you made before? I'm on board." The person on the other end erupted in delight, chattering away before shifting to broken Andosa Language. "Stella, why the sudden change of heart? I've bugged you about this so many times, and you always said you were married now and focusing on family." A mocking glint flickered in Stella's eyes. She thought, 'Married? This so-called marriage has been dead on arrival.' The caller was her former mentor from her overseas studies. He'd reached out lately, hoping she'd join his new team and spearhead a major project. At the time, she'd kept saying no out of loyalty to Bradly. Now, she only wished she'd seen through the absurd joke of their marriage earlier. After the call, she contacted immigration to schedule a passport renewal. It would take about a week. But before heading out, she had one loose end to tie up. That evening, Stella showed up at a private auction at the Cloud Hotel. She was after one of her mother's keepsakes. Her mom had died when she was eight, and soon after, the Daniels family had liquidated her wedding gift. Stella had been hunting down the items ever since. Over the years, she'd only reclaimed a few. Tonight's auction featured a bracelet from that collection, one her mother had picked up on a trip to Ijance. It was utterly unique, irreplaceable. Whatever it took, she was getting it back. Stella settled into her seat just as the auction was about to start. She was flipping through the catalog when Bradly's voice floated over. "Didn't I already pick out that royal blue sapphire set for you? Not good enough?" His voice carried that familiar tenderness. Shanna linked her arm with his, pouting playfully. "Your taste sucks! I want to pick my own birthday gift." Stella watched them quietly until Bradly threaded through the guests and their gazes collided by chance. The color drained from his face. On pure reflex, he jerked his arm away from Shanna. "Stella." He strode over quickly. "I tried calling you a few times, but you didn't answer. Were you planning to surprise me?" Even though he tried to play it cool, she could still catch that subtle hint of panic in his expression. Stella didn't bother calling him on it, replying evenly, "My phone was on silent. I didn't hear it." Bradly visibly relaxed, casually taking her hand in his with a look of concern. "Your hands are like ice. Didn't I warn you about the cold snap today? You're always putting style over staying warm. If you catch a chill, you know it'll just kill me." As he talked, he signaled a server for a blanket and draped it snugly around her shoulders. Stella kept a straight face, brushing him off as she looked past him to Shanna, who lingered behind with a scowl. Shanna nibbled her lip, then defiantly dropped into the seat next to Bradly, her gaze simmering with irritation. Bradly leaned closer, dropping his voice to explain, "We just wrapped up a major project at the company, and Shanna pulled her weight big time. Her birthday's around the corner, so I thought I'd treat her to something as a project bonus." He eyed her anxiously. "Stella, you're not mad, right?" Shanna piped up in a soft, vulnerable tone. "Mrs. Woodard, if this upsets you, I'll just go. I don't want to get in the way of you and Mr. Woodard." Stella's mouth quirked into a smile that never touched her eyes. "We're married. A little thing like this? Of course it doesn't bother me." The auction got underway shortly after. Bradly treated Shanna like she was invisible, focusing entirely on Stella. He paged through the catalog, throwing in bids left and right. "Babe, this would look amazing on you." He grinned, tenderly brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his tone warm and intimate. "You'd be gorgeous in it." Stella averted her eyes, but out of the corner of her vision, she saw Shanna discreetly clutching the edge of Bradly's jacket in the dim light. Their gazes locked for a split second in a shared, lingering look. She masked the derision in her own eyes, struck by how absurd it all was. Bradly seemed totally at ease juggling both women, convinced he was keeping things balanced, one with the official status, the other with his undivided public attention. She thought, 'What could be fairer than that?' But Stella had never been interested in that kind of equilibrium. Her world extended far beyond romance. Bradly? He was just a small detour on her path, a misstep she'd own up to. And now, it was time to set things right. "Next up: a string of bracelet. Fine-grained texture, deep aroma that lingers. Starting bid at 170,000 dollars, with increments of at least 20,000 dollars!" The auctioneer's pumped-up voice echoed through the room. Finally, Stella's main target for the evening. Bids flew in fast, the screen flickering with updates as the auctioneer called out, "Number 17 lady at 200,000 dollars! Number 9 gentleman ups it to 260,000 dollars! Going higher?" Once the initial frenzy tapered off, Stella lifted her paddle. "500,000 dollars." She'd doubled the current bid in one go. It was a hefty amount. Sure, the bracelet was top-notch, but it wasn't the auction's highlight. The room went quiet after her call; no one countered. "Fantastic! Number 11 lady at 500,000 dollars! "500,000 dollars once! 500,000 dollars twice!" The auctioneer hoisted his gavel, poised to bring it down. "No more bids? Then 500,000 dollars—" "520,000 dollars," A gentle, hesitant voice interrupted. Shanna shrank against Bradly's side, paddle in hand, murmuring timidly to him, "Is this where I put in the amount?" Chapter 3 You're Dirty Stella frowned and raised her bid. "540,000 dollars." But Shanna was right behind her, countering with, "560,000 dollars." How annoyingly precise, each time, she stuck to the bare minimum, slapping on just 20,000 dollars more than Stella's offer. Shanna turned toward her, her voice dripping with plea. "Stella, you've got plenty of jewelry already. Please, let me have this one. I adore it. "I'm not like you, born with money, everything handed to you on a silver platter. You snap your fingers and get whatever you want. If it goes any higher, I really won't be able to keep up." Stella didn't bother looking at her, just quirking her lips in a thin smile. "Isn't Mr. Woodard covering the cost for you? What are you stressing about?" Shanna's face went a shade paler, but she answered in that soft, demure tone, "Even so, Mr. Woodard earns his money the hard way. If I can save him a bit, I ought to." She was the epitome of considerate and caring. After several more back-and-forth bids, the bracelet's price had soared to 700,000 dollars. Stella let out a chilly scoff and was opening her mouth to up the ante when Bradly beat her to it. He said, "Babe, why don't we just let Shanna take this bracelet?" Stella's fingers curled into a tight fist, her nails biting into her palm. She lifted her gaze, any lingering warmth in her eyes turning to ice. "What did you just say?" Bradly let out a resigned sigh, giving her hand a comforting pat as he murmured gently, "Babe, I already told Shanna she'd get a gift tonight, and she's got her heart set on this one. No need to compete with her. "Plus, I've already snagged you a handful of other pieces. Isn't that plenty?" He said it all lightly, teasingly, as if it were nothing more than a harmless quip. Stella shut her eyes, a nameless sourness creeping along her nerves, coiling around her heart until it felt like she couldn't draw a breath. Given Shanna's modest background, 700,000 dollars was way out of her league. She wouldn't even make the guest list here on her own. The only reason she was in that seat, trading bids blow for blow, was Bradly's backing. His pampering had delivered her straight into Stella's path. Stella whispered, "What if I refuse to back down?" She hoisted her paddle once more, her voice echoing through the room. "1 million dollars." A hush blanketed the hall. The auctioneer clearly picked up on the drama, his delivery faltering. "Number eleven at 1 million dollars. Do I hear higher?" Shanna's eyes welled up, on the verge of tears, as she cast a helpless look at Bradly before tacking on another fifty thousand. "1 million 20 thousand dollars." Stella's features hardened to frost, and she was poised to fire back when the manager bustled over, bending close to murmur, "Mrs. Woodard, apologies. We ran a credit verification on your account, and it's frozen. Got another one we can use?" The words slammed into her like a bolt from the blue, ringing in her ears. She snapped her head toward Bradly, but he'd already looked away. An icy numbness spread through her arms and legs. She though,t 'Of course, it has to be him.' Her primary account was linked with his; besides her, only he could authorize a freeze on her cards. Triumph flickered in Shanna's eyes as she added with a pointed edge, "Well, in that case, Mrs. Woodard, maybe it's time to step aside. You've got so much already. Can't you let me have this one little thing?" Up on stage, the auction rolled on, the display frozen on Shanna's latest bid: 1 million 20 thousand dollars. Shanna could hardly hide her glee, chirping sweetly, "Go on, call it!" But the words had barely left her lips when someone announced he would bid for the lot at any costs right in the second-floor VIP suite. After a momentary silence, the room burst into chaos. "He's declared absolute intent!" Even the auctioneer's expression changed. He'd been in the game for over a decade, but this was his first encounter with such a scenario. He hurriedly called out, "Lot number six goes to the gentleman in box 217, regardless of how high the price goes." Anyone up in those second-floor VIP suites was either swimming in money or held serious sway in Ostralver's upper crust. Stella glanced upward toward the source of the voice, catching only a vague outline behind the draped curtains. Even when she couldn't see his face, the man's crossed-legged posture radiated an unspoken dominance that pressed down on the room. The auctioneer slammed his gavel down with finality, proclaiming, "Congratulations to our esteemed guest in box 217 on winning lot number six! You're now upgraded to black gold status!" Across all of Ostralver's elite scene, fewer than a handful had ever hit black gold level at these events. Stella wondered, 'Just who is this mystery man?' Stella loosened her clenched fist slightly, torn between relief that her mother's heirloom hadn't landed in Shanna's clutches and anxiety over reclaiming it from this unknown figure. No matter what, she'd stop at nothing, pay any price, to bring her mother's possession home. She rose to her feet, intent on marching over to box 217 for a chat, when the attendant who'd just ducked inside reappeared, tray in hand with the bracelet. "What's this? The bidder in 217 having second thoughts?" "Auctions don't do take-backs." "Probably short on funds. I called it. No one's done this here before." As the murmurs swirled, the attendant headed straight for Stella, dipping into a courteous bow with a warm smile. She said, "Mrs. Woodard, the gentleman in box 217 requests that I deliver the bracelet to you as a gift. He wishes for you to follow your true path and for all to unfold as it should." The place erupted in gossip once more, with guests shooting glances her way, some envious, others skeptical, many flat-out stunned. "Isn't that Mrs. Woodard? What's her deal with the upstairs guy?" "Likely just buttering up Mr. Woodard." "Nah, I don't buy it. Out of all the goodies tonight, why zero in on those beads for Mrs. Woodard? Sounds like she's got a real connection there." The buzz filtered through, and Bradly's face turned stone-cold. In a tight, edged voice, he demanded, "Stella, what's the story with you and whoever's in box 217?" Stella held his piercing stare and said flatly, "I have no idea who he is." "!" Bradly jumped up, clamping down on her wrist like a vice. Her soft, fair skin reddened almost instantly under the pressure. Stella winced sharply, jerking her arm back on reflex. "Bradly, have you lost your mind? Haven't you stirred up enough drama for one day?" But he barreled on, blind to her fury, his reddened eyes locked on her as if he could swallow her up. "What's really between you two? "Stella, through all our married years, I've bent over backward for you. Anything you desired, I served it up without question. Why would you betray me like this?" In his mind, it was already a done deal: she was entangled in something shady with the man above. If the guy was angling for a favor from him, Bradly would've recognized him right away. People in Ostralver didn't beat around the bush when they needed something from him. They came direct. The jab landed raw and direct. Bradly blinked, frozen for a beat as a flicker of alarm shot through his eyes. Chapter 4 Don't Know You'd Come Bradly said, "I'm sorry, Stella. I didn't mean it like that. I had no right getting jealous over you and some stranger. It's all on me." Bradly's eyes reddened. "But honestly, there's nothing going on between Shanna and me. I just brought her along as a thank-you. Can you let this slide?" Seeing his cue, Shanna ducked her head meekly, her voice catching. "That's right, Mrs. Woodard. I've been bending over backward to keep my distance from Mr. Woodard so you wouldn't get the wrong impression. "I'm not asking for the world, just a decent birthday gift. I didn't grow up with your advantages; you've had everything handed to you and even snagged a catch like Mr. Woodard. Can't I at least pick out something for myself?" "Just a gift, huh?" Stella closed in on her, one step at a time. "Ms. Erickson, I've never given a damn about this 'gift' you're going on about. What gets under my skin is you, a Woodard Group employee, crossing lines you have no business crossing." As they drew closer, Bradly instinctively stepped in front of Shanna, his voice soft and coaxing. "Stella, if it's bugging you this much, I'll transfer her to a branch office once the auction's over. "But for now, cut me some slack. Let Shanna have the bracelet. When we get home, name your price on anything, and it's yours." Shanna bobbed her head in agreement, tears glistening on her lashes as she pleaded, "Stella, I really adore this bracelet. You've got it all already. Why go after the one thing I want? "Or is this just because you hate my guts and can't resist taking shots at me?" "What makes you think I'd ever like you?" Stella let out a cold snort. "This belonged to me from the start. Why the hell would I give it up?" She took the bracelet from the attendant with casual ease, her smile sharp but empty. "Ms. Erickson, know your place." Her refusal to budge finally wore through Bradly's patience, erasing every bit of softness from his face. "Stella, do you have to humiliate me like this in front of everyone? Where does that leave my dignity? "It's just a crappy old bracelet. Am I really worth less to you than some trinket?" He said it with such conviction, as if he'd wiped from his memory the solemn vow he'd made when proposing: that he'd hunt down every single one of her mother's sold-off keepsakes, no matter what. Stella's hand flew up, delivering a resounding slap across his cheek. The sharp crack rang out, pulling shocked stares from every corner of the room. Bradly's head snapped sideways, his face livid as he fixed her with a glare, his words hissing through clenched teeth. "Stella, drop the drama already. Have I pampered you too much these days, turning you into this unreasonable nightmare?" Stella reined in her temper, keeping her tone even. "Bradly, you better not live to regret today." Without another word, she turned and walked out, not sparing a backward glance. As her figure receded, Shanna gently touched the angry red mark on Bradly's cheek, her voice full of worry. "Mr. Woodard, are you okay? "Stella's got no boundaries. How could she hit you with all these people watching?" Bradly swatted her hand aside, his nails digging into his palm as he stared after her retreating path. "I've spoiled her rotten, letting her forget that everything she has comes from me." Shanna peeked at his changing expression, testing the waters. "Mr. Woodard, about the bracelet..." Bradly rubbed his throbbing cheek, pulled a bank card from his pocket, and handed it over. "1.7 million dollars on there. Buy whatever catches your eye." Box 217, Stella rapped on the door, eager to thank the mystery bidder face-to-face. Silence. She caught a server walking by. "Excuse me, any idea where the gentleman from this box headed?" "He slipped out right after nabbing the last item," the server said. Disappointment flashed in her eyes, but Stella pressed on, "Do you know who he was?" The server gave her a regretful smile. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard, we're not allowed to spill on our VIPs. Don't make this harder for us." Catching herself, Stella moved out of the way. "Thanks all the same." By the time she made it home from the auction, an hour had ticked by. Stella went straight up to the study, fired up the computer, and dove into the assets registered under her and Bradly's names. After tallying up the numbers, she snatched her phone, found lawyer Rubin Cobb's contact, and hit dial. She said, "I've sorted out the asset division documents for me and Bradly and sent them over. I need you to handle the property split by tomorrow." Rubin quickly received the files and nodded respectfully. "Of course, Mrs. Woodard. I'll get right on it." Stella stared intently at her computer screen, her grip tightening on the mouse. "If Bradly's committed bigamy, how should our assets be divided?" "Generally, any property the bigamous party gained through the bigamy can be claimed back by the other spouse," Rubin replied matter-of-factly. Half of Bradly's current wealth had come from Stella's investments to support his career early on. Her expression darkened, and she promptly forwarded the marriage license between him and Shanna. "Rubin, please use every legal avenue to recover my half of the assets." After hanging up, Stella slumped back in her chair, utterly drained physically and emotionally. She closed her eyes slowly, but sleep was nowhere in sight. Bradly would never agree to a divorce. Until she had everything locked down, she couldn't let on that anything was amiss. Just then, the study door was kicked open from the outside. Bradly flung his jacket onto the desk and yanked Stella up from her seat in front of the computer. "Do you realize that because of your little outburst, I've become a laughingstock in our circles? "What exactly do you want? Are you still obsessing over what happened back then?" Stella opened her eyes slowly, her gaze settling calmly on Bradly, but she remained silent. A fire raged in Bradly's chest, intensifying by the second, and he couldn't hold back his fury any longer. "Since we got married, have I ever done anything to wrong you? I come home right on time every night after work, I always fill you in on any business dinners, and if there's even a hint of a woman involved, I skip them entirely! I've bent over backward, and it's still not good enough for you?" He remembered every detail crystal clear. In his mind, these were the sacrifices he'd made to marry her. Stella suddenly found the whole thing absurd. She couldn't bear to look at him anymore, so she stood up and walked straight out of the study without a backward glance. Behind her, Bradly's voice echoed heavily. "Stella, no matter what you think, my conscience is clear." It felt like Stella's heart had been shattered into icy fragments, a sharp, bitter pain surging through her. Her mind buzzed, and for a moment, all she could hear was that phrase repeating over and over. She thought, 'My conscience is clear? So, in his eyes, everything he's done is perfectly justifiable.' The next morning, when Stella woke up, Bradly was already gone. On the table sat the breakfast he'd prepared, tailored exactly to her tastes. Stella pressed her lips together, her feelings a complicated tangle. They'd ended things on a sour note last night, yet Bradly had still made her breakfast this morning. But this was the same man who'd lied to her for years. No matter what, it was time to end things with Bradly. She didn't touch the food and headed straight to the office. These past few years, she'd stayed out of Bradly's business dealings. A lot of her old financial records were outdated now, and she needed the latest reports. The secretary looked startled when she saw her, then managed to say, "Mrs. Woodard, are you here to see Mr. Woodard?" "No." Stella replied evenly. "Send the finance manager in to see me." Her shares were second only to Bradly's, giving her full access to every aspect of the company. The secretary hesitated briefly before nodding. Stella noticed her immediately turning to make a phone call, probably alerting Bradly. Stella didn't intervene; let her. She settled into the finance office, sipping her coffee absentmindedly while flipping through magazines on the shelf. Most were glossy entertainment rags, mixed in with novels and comics. Stella frowned, only now picking up on the details: the desk was covered in a pink plaid mat, cluttered with adorable plush toys. The standout pair was a set of couple dolls, their outfits emblazoned with the letters W and E. It hit Stella suddenly what that meant, and just then, the door behind her swung open. Shanna rushed in. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard." She was clutching a cup of coffee as she apologized. "I had no idea you'd drop by like this..." Chapter 5 All For Milford Stella arched an eyebrow as she looked her over. "So you're the finance manager?" Shanna nodded with a quick smile. "That's me. If you need anything at all, just say the word. Bradly, well, Mr. Woodard is tied up in a meeting right now. But don't worry, I'll make sure to relay whatever message you have." Stella let out a soft laugh. "No need for that." She regarded Shanna with clear curiosity. "I'm not looking for Bradly. I'm here to see you." Shanna's smile faltered for a moment before she recovered, her tone turning gentle. "Mrs. Woodard, I get that you're still bothered by what went down at the auction last night, but there's no reason to be so worked up about my connection to Mr. Woodard. After all..." She raised her hand, the elegant diamond ring on her finger glinting under the light, perfectly complementing her bashful grin. "I'm already married, and things are great between me and my husband." Stella's eyes locked on the ring, her breath hitching just for an instant. It was ridiculous. In this whole messed-up situation, she was the one playing the role of the mistress. The ring was an exact match for the one Bradly had given her during his proposal. But within seconds, Stella averted her gaze. "It's a lovely ring, but you're mistaken." She spoke unhurriedly, "I'm just here to grab the latest financial report from you. That's all." Stella caught the sour shift in Shanna's expression and smiled to herself. "Seems like you're the one on edge here, Ms. Erickson." Shanna's face transformed completely, that smug spark in her eyes snuffed out. She bit her lip, unable to find words for a long beat. Stella watched her with unruffled poise. "Do I need to repeat my request, Ms. Erickson?" The words had barely left her mouth when Bradly burst in, his expression clouding over at the sight. "Stella, wasn't the scene from last night enough?" His voice was laced with ice. "How long are you planning to drag this out? I've told you already. There's nothing going on between me and Shanna. If you don't believe me..." Stella interrupted him mid-sentence, "Oh, I believe you. Absolutely." A faint smirk tugged at her lips, though her eyes remained frosty as they settled on Shanna. "After all, Ms. Erickson's already married. She just mentioned it herself." The statement landed like a bomb. Shanna's face drained of color, and Bradly's followed suit. He shot her a withering glare. Tears sprang to Shanna's eyes in an instant. Stella had no interest in watching the drama unfold any further. She said evenly, "I'm here for this year's financials. I hold forty percent of the company. Surely I can access that, right?" Bradly seemed to snap back to reality, nodding hastily. "Of course you can." He barked orders at the secretary to fetch it immediately, all the while stealing wary glances at her face. Once he confirmed she wasn't giving anything away, he exhaled almost imperceptibly in relief. He said, "Stella, what's with the sudden interest? You've never bothered with company matters before." Stella answered coolly, "After the account freeze last night, I decided it's smarter to set up a separate one." Bradly's expression froze again. "Stella..." The secretary returned promptly with the report. Stella brushed Bradly aside, skimmed through it quickly, and was heading for the door when he caught her by the wrist. He said, "Stella, about the family dinner tonight, are you coming home with me?" His tone was pleading, like he needed her answer to reassure himself that she hadn't caught on to anything fishy. Stella didn't look back, just replying calmly, "Sure." Bradly's face lit up. "Great, I'll swing by after work to pick you up." Stella dropped her gaze, masking the cool detachment in her eyes. She'd only agreed to head back to the family estate for one specific reason. The marriage license from when she and Bradly had tied the knot was a phony, but he'd made a whole production out of stashing it away at the house, claiming it had to be kept secure. Nothing could serve as stronger proof. Once she got her hands on it, his bigamy would be ironclad. Stella didn't bother waiting for Bradly; she hailed a cab and got there ahead of time. She'd figured it was just a standard family gathering, but she was caught off guard by the full turnout. Bradly's parents, fresh from their overseas vacation last week, were back, and even the distant relatives from the Woodard family's side branches had shown up en masse. "Stella, dear." As she walked in, Nadine Woodard peered over her shoulder. "Bradly didn't come with you?" Stella answered evenly, "He'll be along shortly." Nadine clicked her tongue, her irritation obvious. "On an important occasion like this, letting someone from outside the family arrive solo, what's got into him?" Stella's brow furrowed just a touch. She and Bradly had been engaged since childhood, but after her mother's passing, the Daniels family's status had tanked while the Woodard family kept climbing. That was when Nadine started pushing to scrap the arrangement, and she'd mentioned it more than a few times. But Chuck Woodard was upright and principled, flat-out refusing to play the social-climbing game. With Bradly dead set on marrying her and no one else, Nadine had reluctantly given in, though she made her resentment clear. Even after the marriage, she never passed up an opportunity to give Stella the cold shoulder. She was about to add something else when the butler rushed in and murmured, "He's here." Nadine promptly dropped the subject with Stella and jumped to her feet, the extended family hustling out right behind her to welcome the arrivals. The level of pomp surprised Stella. The Woodard family was already at the top of Ostralver's social elite. For them to pull out all the stops like this... Standing at the edge of the group, Stella glanced up and saw a black Maybach rolling up to the front of the estate. Someone hurried forward to open the door respectfully, and a tall, imposing figure stepped out unhurriedly. The man wore a sleek black suit, his chiseled features sharp, eyes as midnight, radiating a fierce intensity. Every gesture exuded a natural poise and authority that made it tough to hold his stare. The crowd swarmed forward in a rush, but he stayed cool and detached the whole time, his stunningly handsome face as impassive as carved ice, showing zero emotion. Then, as if picking up on something, he looked up toward Stella. Their eyes locked unexpectedly, sending her heart pounding. It was Milford Woodard, Bradly's brother. He'd returned to the country. Though they were brothers in name, Milford wasn't all that tight with the family. He'd headed overseas young and had spent years growing the business abroad. His father Edward Woodard was a total lightweight, good only at spending cash, not earning it. His grandpa Chuck had the smarts and drive, but age was catching up, leaving him unable to manage it all. Real power over the Woodard family had shifted to Milford ages ago. Stella let out a quiet breath. She thought, 'That explains the big crowd today. They've all turned out for Milford.' Chapter 6 Need Help? Stella lingered in the corner of the living room, watching the relatives descend like a swarm of locusts, all scrambling to surround Milford. Bradly stood next to Nadine, flashing a polished smile as he greeted, "Hey, Milford." The uncles who'd been buttering up Bradly just a minute ago quickly switched gears, beaming with over-the-top enthusiasm as they stepped up to say hello. "Milford, what prompted the sudden return?" "Milford, I hear you're in the middle of acquiring a domestic company? You're just getting more impressive by the day." "Come on inside, take a seat. We've got some top-shelf coffee." Bradly caught the stark contrast in the uncles' warmth, his smile fading briefly before he pulled it together and led the way forward. Stella quietly eyed the tall, strikingly handsome Milford striding into the living room like the star of the show, instinctively edging back a step. Now fully pushed to the fringes of the crowd, she shifted aside to let the trailing group pass, doing everything she could to blend into the wallpaper. Milford approached steadily. Unlike Bradly's flashy, outgoing vibe, he had a more brooding, aloof kind of handsomeness, like a pine tree blanketed in snow, regal and intimidating. He acknowledged the flattery around him with simple nods, his eyes scanning the room casually, subtly taking stock of everyone there. Until his gaze swept over Stella again, and he came to an abrupt halt. He paused, causing Bradly to stop too. "Something wrong, Milford?" Milford didn't respond, his steady gaze fixed on Stella. It was only a look, but it jolted her to her core. She felt an odd sense of being claimed, uninvited. Yet she'd barely crossed paths with Milford before. Bradly and the others traced his stare, his eyebrow quirking up. "Stella, come say hi to Big Milford." Stella started to step forward, but Milford beat her to it, walking straight toward her. Bradly and the rest exchanged surprised glances. So far, everyone had been approaching Milford. He hadn't initiated with a soul. Milford's deep eyes gave nothing away. "Stella?" Her breath hitched, like a faint breeze had brushed her ear. She hadn't anticipated him coming over to chat. It had been years, and they'd only met once or twice, but he still remembered her. Stella nodded. "Milford, it's been ages—" Before she could finish, Milford held out his hand. The move was so casual, so natural. Out of pure reflex and politeness, Stella extended hers, their palms connecting. In that brief clasp, she felt him squeeze gently, his thumb settling on her fingers and grazing them with a warm intensity. Milford released after just a second. Suddenly, Bradly sidled up, drawing Stella into his side with an arm around her waist, lacing his fingers through her left hand. He said, "Milford, how long are you in town this time? Stella and I can take you out to dinner one of these days." Milford took in their cozy pose, his glance dropping to their intertwined hands. "About a month." The words had barely left his mouth when Chuck came down the stairs, leaning on the butler for support. Milford headed over to talk with him. Not long after, the kitchen called that the party was ready. Stella trailed Bradly to their seats on the left side of the main table. Everyone filed in and sat. As the eldest branch, the two Woodard brothers took priority. Chuck claimed the head of the main table, with Nadine and Milford next in line. Stella and Bradly fell further down the order, landing her right across from Milford on the diagonal. The family feast got underway, with everyone firing questions at Milford about what he'd been up to lately. Stella kept her head down, nibbling at her food while catching bits of the conversation. Zrester bigwig, major stakeholder in Wonder Group, founder of that financial exchange and the smart transportation AI... Milford's credentials were endless and mind-blowing. She thought back to that Zrester party invite list she'd snagged years ago. Milford was third from the top, while she languished at the bottom. In all these years, she'd had next to no interaction with him. Right after the wedding, this mysterious Milford had only shown up once. He dropped off a gift and vanished. In just a handful of years, Milford had climbed to the pinnacle of Zrester's power players. His talent was obvious. Before long, the family party wound down, and folks scattered to grab desserts. Still hung up on that marriage license, Stella excused herself to head upstairs for a coat change. Bradly was itching to chat with Milford, his gaze fixed that way as he muttered distractedly, "Yeah, go on up." Stella wasted no time hustling upstairs. With the crowd milling about downstairs, she slipped to the third floor of the villa and nudged open Bradly's bedroom door. There it was: the glaring marriage license perched right on top of the nightstand, framed, flanked by their wedding portrait. As she stepped closer, memories of Bradly's cozy moments with Shanna flooded her brain, her nails digging slowly into her palm. That license seared her eyes, like it was sneering at her gullibility. She never should've caved, never should've handed Bradly a second shot. It just went to show that people's hearts circled back for seconds. Disgust flickered in her eyes as she hauled the desk's computer chair over, the kind with wheels and a swivel, shaky at best. She climbed onto it, planting one foot on the bed for stability, teetering just enough to hold steady. Stella hiked up her pearl-white knee-length dress a bit and stretched upward slowly. Fingers extended to the max, but she was still a couple inches shy. She rose onto her tiptoes, straining, but no dice. Frowning from her perch, she scanned around and snagged a book from beside the cabinet. As she leaned down, footsteps suddenly echoed outside the door. Fast, but measured. A man's, for sure. Her pulse spiked. She clutched the table, scrambling to hop down, but, perfect timing, her other sleeve caught on the cabinet's edge. She tugged frantically to break free, but it was too late to descend. The door flew open out of nowhere. Stella went rigid, her knees giving way as she toppled backward off the chair. A quick yelp escaped her, but the expected crash never hit. A firm hand latched precisely onto her thigh, another banding around her waist, hauling her into a solid hold and planting her feet firmly on the floor. She slammed into a warm, toned chest, a crisp, grounding sandalwood aroma enveloping her, not Bradly's scent. Stella glanced up, nearly clipping the guy's chin. Milford let go right away, backing off a step to give her space. Her cheeks burned, the thigh he'd gripped feeling like it was on fire. Mortified and frozen, she stammered, "Th-thanks." Milford stayed composed, his eyes skimming her flushed face and the pinkened patch of skin on her thigh from his hold. His Adam's apple dipped subtly. "Didn't realize you were in here. My bad." Stella shook her head, even more flustered. She was the one imposing on him. Milford flicked a glance upward. "Need some help?" She looked too. Up top, the marriage license screamed for attention. Chapter 7 Don't Let Me Hate You Stella just came out with it. "I want to get the marriage license down." Milford hesitated for a beat, without probing why she needed it, and slid the chair out of the way. Tall and long-limbed, he barely had to tip up on his toes to snag it effortlessly. Milford skimmed the lettering on the license, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes before the faintest quirk tugged at his lips, almost undetectable. He passed it over to Stella. "Ah, I see." She missed the words, taking it with a soft murmur: "Thanks, Milford." Her palms were slick with sweat now, but holding the certificate still sent an icy shiver through her. Those bold letters were a brutal reminder. This whole marriage had been one big joke. From beginning to end, Bradly's grand performance of undying love had always had a third wheel in the shadows. Milford dropped his gaze. Towering over her, all he could make out was the neat swirl at the top of her head, round and oddly appealing. Those slim, pale hands gripped the certificate like a vise, completely bloodless. Milford asked offhandedly, "So, what's the marriage license for?" "Oh, I just want to bring it home and store it there," Stella shot back, pulling an excuse out of thin air. Milford's stare felt like it enveloped her, the heat of it almost scorching, though he kept his hands to himself. Then he casually adjusted his cufflinks and turned to go. Stella let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, sagging against the cool cabinet. Her thigh still tingled with warmth from his grip; she quickly smoothed her skirt down, tucked the license into her bag, and only left the room once everything looked undisturbed. Bradly was still out in the back garden, deep in conversation. Stella kept her face neutral, strolling over to stand at his side. A few relatives were chatting with him. "Hey, word is Milford actually got back a couple days ago, but only tipped us off today." Bradly looked taken aback. "I thought he was flying in today?" "Nope, sounds like he hit up some auction. I only heard bits and pieces, supposedly the other night at the Empire Auction House." "He must not have gone. I was there that evening too, and I didn't see him anywhere," Bradly said, frowning in confusion. Stella's eyelashes flickered subtly, but she played it cool. Out of nowhere, her mind jumped back to that enigmatic bidder in suite 217. She wondered, 'Could Milford be the mystery guest who got the bracelet for me?' She shoved the thought down as soon as it surfaced. They'd only crossed paths once, total strangers really, connected by the flimsiest in-law tie. No matter how you sliced it, Milford wouldn't stick his neck out for her. Just like Bradly said, he hadn't caught wind of anything, so it couldn't be Milford. Stella let it go. After some more mingling, the group started to break up. Bradly steered her over to bid farewell to Milford. "Mom, Milford, we're taking off. Let's set up a family dinner soon when things settle." Milford slouched back in his chair with effortless nonchalance and gave a nod. "I'm knee-deep in an acquisition, no hurry on the get-together. But you..." He lifted his head, his expression sharpening. "Keep your life on the straight and narrow. Don't veer off track." The edge of warning in his voice was crystal clear. Bradly had grown up overshadowed by Milford; he went rigid but brushed it off casually. "Come on, everything's good. My company's running smooth as ever. If you're skeptical, drop by anytime and pore over the financials—knock yourself out." "It's not just about the company," Milford said softly, eyes down as he savored a sip of coffee. Stella couldn't help stealing a glance at him, and in that instant, a ridiculous idea struck her. From what Bradly had mentioned, Milford was abroad most of the time but still had the inside scoop on everything back home. She wondered, 'Does he know about the shady stuff Bradly is up to on the sly?' "Milford, I hear you. I'll make sure to nurture my marriage with Stella, our whole life together." Bradly grinned, threading his fingers through Stella's. Milford's gaze lingered on their joined hands for a second before drifting away, sealed with a subtle nod. Stella had no desire for any more close contact with Bradly, so she subtly shook his hand free without thinking. A split second later, his disbelieving stare locked onto her face, and he tried to grab her again. She'd known her move would humiliate him in the moment, so she didn't bother saying goodbye to Milford. She just turned and walked out ahead. Once they slid into the car, Bradly shed his polite, deferential mask from earlier, reverting to his entitled rich-kid swagger. He tugged his tie loose, a flicker of annoyance pinching his brows. "Always playing the big-brother card to chew me out, same crap since we were little. "So what if he's crushing it overseas? I'm holding my own just fine back home. Who in Ostralver would even think about messing with me?" Bradly fished out a menthol cigarette on autopilot, ready to light up, but he caught himself after glancing at Stella and shoved it back. He said, "All these years, folks have been whispering, or saying it straight to my face, that my company's thriving because of his pull. Like he's behind every damn thing. "And you? You flat-out refused to let me hold your hand back there. Trying to make me look like an idiot in front of him?" His expression iced over, the edge in his voice impossible to miss. Stella's frown deepened as she took it in. Even without knowing Milford all that well, she understood that Bradly's cocky antics in Ostralver, brushing people off like they were nothing, had always been propped up by Milford's clout. She'd assumed the brothers were tight, but clearly Bradly's respect was just for show; underneath, his grudge against Milford simmered deep. She could overlook a lot, but with things the way they were now, there was zero point in him putting on that phony hand-holding act. Stella gripped her bag, the one with the marriage license inside, and couldn't bite her tongue. "We haven't held hands in forever. It feels off to me." The car went dead quiet. She was right. Their physical closeness had dwindled so much that even she couldn't pinpoint the last time. Bradly's brow creased, and he snapped the cigarette filter clean off between his fingers. "What was that?" Stella met his eyes steadily. "From here on out, let's skip the pointless touchy-feely stuff. It just doesn't sit right." She hadn't even finished when the brakes screeched harshly. The car lurched to a halt on the empty shoulder of the road. Stella almost smacked into the window from the force, her pulse hammering as she barked, "Are you out of your mind?" Bradly loomed over her, fingers digging into her chin, irritation boiling in his glare. "Stella, do you have any idea what you're saying?" The pinch stung like crazy, and the absurdity of it all hit her as she wrestled to shove him off. "Is it not true? When's the last time we even held hands. Can you remember?" Bradly's gaze turned stormy, like she'd struck a raw spot. "I bet you're hung up on Milford, just like that girl from the second branch. That's why you pulled away in front of him. You're trying to cut ties with me?" "Bradly! What the hell are you babbling about?" Anger surged through her as she pushed harder. "Don't you dare pin your gross history on me!" The way the family had orbited Milford like he was the sun had obviously gotten under his skin. The more she resisted, the darker his look grew. Abruptly, he leaned in and smashed his mouth against hers. Stella's eyes flew wide, her head whipping aside to evade as she hammered at his shoulders with everything she had. He'd locked lips with Shanna god knows how often. The thought turned her stomach, so she clamped down and bit him hard. Bradly yelped in pain, jerking back as the fog cleared and he clocked what he'd just done, regret flashing across his face. Blood dotted his lip, but he brushed it off, lunging to wrap her in his arms. "I'm sorry, Stella, baby, I'm so sorry. I screwed up; it was a stupid impulse..." Drained of energy, Stella sagged into the passenger seat, letting him hold her while a barren wave of emptiness and revulsion washed over her. The hug she'd once melted into now repulsed her to her core. "Get off me." Her voice came out rough and scratchy. "Bradly, don't push me to hating you."
Chapter 1 Don't Want Him Anymore "I'm sorry, ma'am." On the other end of the line, the insurance customer service rep said coolly, "After checking our records, the car owner, Mr. Woodard, is indeed married, but the spouse listed here isn't you." Stella Daniels had gotten into a car accident on her way to the Woodard Group headquarters. She couldn't get through to Bradly Woodard on his phone, so she had no choice but to call the insurance company. The car was registered in Bradly's name, but as his wife, she should be able to process the claim too. "When Mr. Woodard picked up the car, he came with his wife and provided the original marriage license. Her last name is Erickson, and her full name is Shanna Erickson," the rep said. It hit Stella like a slap in the face. Dizziness washed over her in waves, leaving her whole body shaking uncontrollably. She and Bradly had been childhood sweethearts. Their families were old friends, and everyone in Ostralver's high society knew how clingy he was with her. Bradly couldn't stand being apart from her even for a single day. Three years ago, when Stella headed abroad for her studies, Bradly had the plane stopped just for her. During her three years in Ensland, he expanded his business overseas to make it easier to look after her. Sixteen thousand miles apart, he'd still fly across the ocean every week to see her. The year she came down with a severe lung illness and nearly didn't pull through, she spent a week in intensive care. Bradly ignored the infection risks and stayed right by her side, sliding a ring onto her finger. He said, "If anything happens to you, I'll go with you. We'll be husband and wife in the next life too." For Bradly's sake, she turned down her mentor's offer to stay on in the lab and headed back home. Brimming with excitement, she went to find him, planning to surprise him. But when she pushed open the door to the CEO's office, she saw a slender, pretty woman straddling his lap. The woman's innocent face tilted upward, her voice whiny and aggrieved. "Mr. Woodard, what happens to me now that Stella is back?" Bradly sat in his executive chair, his tall frame looming over her. A flash of ruthlessness crossed his stern features. "You? You're just her stand-in. Don't forget your place." He lifted his hand, pinching her delicate chin with a sneer. "Barely a three-out-of-ten resemblance, and you think you can compare to her?" Stella was still clutching the gift she'd prepared for him. With a loud "bang," it dropped to the floor, finally breaking the scene in the office. Bradly's face drained of color as he shoved the woman off and jumped to his feet. That woman was Shanna. After Stella caught them in the act, Bradly fired Shanna on the spot and pulled out all the stops to win her back. Bradly, the arrogant prince of Ostralver's elite circles, humbled himself to the dust before her, begging her to give him another chance. Any project she set her sights on, he'd drop without a second thought. He stood in the pouring rain outside her building for over a week, just for a glimpse of her. He said, "Stella, I'm not asking you to forgive me. At least let me explain. "I only ever saw Shanna as your replacement. You've been gone abroad for so long; I missed you terribly. I swear, I just kept her around. Nothing more ever happened between us. "That time you walked in, I'd had too much to drink, and she deliberately tempted me. I lost control for a moment... "I've already let her go, and she won't show up in our lives again. Stella, please, come back to me." Back then, Stella couldn't stand even the slightest betrayal. She insisted on breaking off the engagement. Until that one incident. She was kidnapped by a business rival. The kidnappers reneged on the deal, tied her up in an abandoned factory, and set the place ablaze. Bradly charged into the flames without a second thought to rescue her, shielding her from a collapsing steel beam. He ended up gravely injured, confined to bed for nearly six months. By risking his life, Bradly finally melted her resolve. Once he was out of the hospital, she accepted his proposal, and they threw a lavish wedding. In the two years since they tied the knot, he'd treated her just as devotedly as ever, with zero scandals. He even imposed a strict curfew on himself, heading home right on time every day. Even on out-of-town business trips, he'd video call her constantly. His partners would tease him about being henpecked. He never denied it. Instead, he'd grin proudly and say, "A real man takes care of his family." Memories rushed through Stella's mind like a whirlwind, every past moment flashing by in a blur. Her legs buckled, and she dropped to her knees, burying her face in her hands. She couldn't figure out which Bradly was the real one anymore. A bitter, mocking gleam sparked in her eyes. She thought, 'How absurd.' She'd been his wife for two years, and only now was she learning that even their marriage license had been a sham. Stella scrubbed her face hard, her bangs already soaked with cold sweat. She ignored the other driver's furious yelling and calmly dialed the police. They showed up fast. After finishing her statement, Stella left the station under a sky that had gone completely dark. Her phone lit up with several missed calls from Bradly. When she hadn't answered, he'd sent texts instead. Bradly: [Babe, I was tied up in a key meeting this afternoon. Signal jammers were on, so I missed your call. You okay?] Bradly: [I've got a client dinner tonight, so I'll be late getting home. I double-checked: no women involved, so no need to worry.] Bradly: [Head to bed early. Don't wait up. Love you.] Stella stared at the screen, a sharp wave of irony twisting in her gut. Bradly didn't stagger in until the wee hours. He reeked of alcohol, which almost, but not quite, masked the subtle whiff of perfume on him. "Honey..." He could barely keep his balance, stumbling over to wrap his arms around her through the blanket. "I missed you so damn much..." Stella didn't say a word. Only once he was dead to the world did she sit up quietly and unlock his phone with his fingerprint. The thing was squeaky clean, no suspicious traces at all. His contacts were mostly buddies and business folks, with hers pinned at the top as "Darling Wife." Flawlessly tidy, just like their sham of a marriage. Stella hooked the phone up to her computer, and it didn't take long to uncover his second WhatsApp account. She signed in, and right away, messages popped up from a profile with a cute pink kitten avatar, labeled "Baby." Shanna: [Bradly, thanks for tonight. Without you, I wouldn't have known what to do.] Shanna: [I've always thought meeting you was the luckiest thing that's ever happened to me. I won't intrude on your life. As long as you swing by to see me once in a while, that's enough to make me happy.] Stella scrolled back through the history. She'd suspected as much, but seeing it all laid out still hit her like a punch to the chest, leaving her breathless. They chatted nearly every day. Shanna never missed a good morning message, and Bradly's replies had shifted over time, from total silence at first, to sporadic responses, and now to answering every single one. A chill spread through her. Stella clutched the phone tighter, knowing she should quit while she was ahead but unable to stop herself from digging deeper. Shanna: [Bradly, sorry, I had a few drinks and lost it for a bit. Doc says I'm okay now, so don't stress.] Shanna: [Mrs. Woodard's birthday bash is important. Go enjoy it with her. I'll be fine.] Stella squeezed her eyes shut as the memory came rushing back. Her birthday. Bradly had spent over a month planning it down to the last detail, but that day, he was totally distracted. Hell, he almost cut his own hand while slicing the cake. When she'd asked what was up, he'd brushed it off as work drama, told her not to worry, then pulled her into a soft embrace and encouraged her to blow out the candles and make a wish. It all made sense now, as she stared at this chat log. That same day, Shanna had tried to kill herself by slashing her wrists and ended up in the ER. A sour bitterness flooded her chest like a rising tide. In those brief seconds when she'd closed her eyes to wish, she wondered, 'Was he agonizing over Shanna in the hospital, or picturing endless years together with her?' Stella knew she didn't need an answer to that anymore. She gently placed the phone back and looked down at Bradly, fast asleep beside her. She'd known him since she was four, and for the twenty years that followed, she'd truly believed his love was hers alone, irreplaceable. But now she saw it for what it was: just cheap free samples at a store, handed out to anyone who walked by. If that was all it amounted to, she was done with it. Chapter 2 Bid Against Her The next day, Stella woke to find Bradly busy in the kitchen, his broad shoulders narrowing to a slim waist, his tall, lean build moving with purpose. The sight hit her hard, a dull ache tightening in her chest. Bradly had learned to cook entirely for her sake. She still remembered that turbulent period when the Woodard Group was in crisis. His rivals had targeted her, paying off a servant to poison her food. She'd been unconscious for three full days. When she finally woke, Bradly was there, his eyes red-rimmed and veined with exhaustion, gripping her hand like a lifeline. The instant she stirred, the imposing Bradly crumbled forward, enveloping her in a hug as scalding tears fell onto her skin. From then on, Bradly threw himself into cooking lessons, taking charge of all her meals. In less than a month, he'd gone from a spoiled elite who couldn't distinguish spices to turning out dishes worthy of a Michelin chef. Just then, his phone rang. Stella glanced at it but made no move to answer. Bradly darted out of the kitchen, apron still on, grabbing the phone with a barely concealed flash of anxiety. Stella pretended not to notice and went to wash up. When she came back, the table was set with breakfast, and he was slipping into his suit jacket from the coat rack. Seeing her, he said gently, "There's an emergency at work. I have to run. Sorry I can't join you for breakfast." Stella murmured, "Sure, work comes first." He was clearly in a hurry, because he didn't pick up on the new edge of cool distance in her tone and rushed out. She stared blankly after him until he was gone, then dumped the entire spread into the trash. Then she picked up her phone and dialed a number. "That offer you made before? I'm on board." The person on the other end erupted in delight, chattering away before shifting to broken Andosa Language. "Stella, why the sudden change of heart? I've bugged you about this so many times, and you always said you were married now and focusing on family." A mocking glint flickered in Stella's eyes. She thought, 'Married? This so-called marriage has been dead on arrival.' The caller was her former mentor from her overseas studies. He'd reached out lately, hoping she'd join his new team and spearhead a major project. At the time, she'd kept saying no out of loyalty to Bradly. Now, she only wished she'd seen through the absurd joke of their marriage earlier. After the call, she contacted immigration to schedule a passport renewal. It would take about a week. But before heading out, she had one loose end to tie up. That evening, Stella showed up at a private auction at the Cloud Hotel. She was after one of her mother's keepsakes. Her mom had died when she was eight, and soon after, the Daniels family had liquidated her wedding gift. Stella had been hunting down the items ever since. Over the years, she'd only reclaimed a few. Tonight's auction featured a bracelet from that collection, one her mother had picked up on a trip to Ijance. It was utterly unique, irreplaceable. Whatever it took, she was getting it back. Stella settled into her seat just as the auction was about to start. She was flipping through the catalog when Bradly's voice floated over. "Didn't I already pick out that royal blue sapphire set for you? Not good enough?" His voice carried that familiar tenderness. Shanna linked her arm with his, pouting playfully. "Your taste sucks! I want to pick my own birthday gift." Stella watched them quietly until Bradly threaded through the guests and their gazes collided by chance. The color drained from his face. On pure reflex, he jerked his arm away from Shanna. "Stella." He strode over quickly. "I tried calling you a few times, but you didn't answer. Were you planning to surprise me?" Even though he tried to play it cool, she could still catch that subtle hint of panic in his expression. Stella didn't bother calling him on it, replying evenly, "My phone was on silent. I didn't hear it." Bradly visibly relaxed, casually taking her hand in his with a look of concern. "Your hands are like ice. Didn't I warn you about the cold snap today? You're always putting style over staying warm. If you catch a chill, you know it'll just kill me." As he talked, he signaled a server for a blanket and draped it snugly around her shoulders. Stella kept a straight face, brushing him off as she looked past him to Shanna, who lingered behind with a scowl. Shanna nibbled her lip, then defiantly dropped into the seat next to Bradly, her gaze simmering with irritation. Bradly leaned closer, dropping his voice to explain, "We just wrapped up a major project at the company, and Shanna pulled her weight big time. Her birthday's around the corner, so I thought I'd treat her to something as a project bonus." He eyed her anxiously. "Stella, you're not mad, right?" Shanna piped up in a soft, vulnerable tone. "Mrs. Woodard, if this upsets you, I'll just go. I don't want to get in the way of you and Mr. Woodard." Stella's mouth quirked into a smile that never touched her eyes. "We're married. A little thing like this? Of course it doesn't bother me." The auction got underway shortly after. Bradly treated Shanna like she was invisible, focusing entirely on Stella. He paged through the catalog, throwing in bids left and right. "Babe, this would look amazing on you." He grinned, tenderly brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his tone warm and intimate. "You'd be gorgeous in it." Stella averted her eyes, but out of the corner of her vision, she saw Shanna discreetly clutching the edge of Bradly's jacket in the dim light. Their gazes locked for a split second in a shared, lingering look. She masked the derision in her own eyes, struck by how absurd it all was. Bradly seemed totally at ease juggling both women, convinced he was keeping things balanced, one with the official status, the other with his undivided public attention. She thought, 'What could be fairer than that?' But Stella had never been interested in that kind of equilibrium. Her world extended far beyond romance. Bradly? He was just a small detour on her path, a misstep she'd own up to. And now, it was time to set things right. "Next up: a string of bracelet. Fine-grained texture, deep aroma that lingers. Starting bid at 170,000 dollars, with increments of at least 20,000 dollars!" The auctioneer's pumped-up voice echoed through the room. Finally, Stella's main target for the evening. Bids flew in fast, the screen flickering with updates as the auctioneer called out, "Number 17 lady at 200,000 dollars! Number 9 gentleman ups it to 260,000 dollars! Going higher?" Once the initial frenzy tapered off, Stella lifted her paddle. "500,000 dollars." She'd doubled the current bid in one go. It was a hefty amount. Sure, the bracelet was top-notch, but it wasn't the auction's highlight. The room went quiet after her call; no one countered. "Fantastic! Number 11 lady at 500,000 dollars! "500,000 dollars once! 500,000 dollars twice!" The auctioneer hoisted his gavel, poised to bring it down. "No more bids? Then 500,000 dollars—" "520,000 dollars," A gentle, hesitant voice interrupted. Shanna shrank against Bradly's side, paddle in hand, murmuring timidly to him, "Is this where I put in the amount?" Chapter 3 You're Dirty Stella frowned and raised her bid. "540,000 dollars." But Shanna was right behind her, countering with, "560,000 dollars." How annoyingly precise, each time, she stuck to the bare minimum, slapping on just 20,000 dollars more than Stella's offer. Shanna turned toward her, her voice dripping with plea. "Stella, you've got plenty of jewelry already. Please, let me have this one. I adore it. "I'm not like you, born with money, everything handed to you on a silver platter. You snap your fingers and get whatever you want. If it goes any higher, I really won't be able to keep up." Stella didn't bother looking at her, just quirking her lips in a thin smile. "Isn't Mr. Woodard covering the cost for you? What are you stressing about?" Shanna's face went a shade paler, but she answered in that soft, demure tone, "Even so, Mr. Woodard earns his money the hard way. If I can save him a bit, I ought to." She was the epitome of considerate and caring. After several more back-and-forth bids, the bracelet's price had soared to 700,000 dollars. Stella let out a chilly scoff and was opening her mouth to up the ante when Bradly beat her to it. He said, "Babe, why don't we just let Shanna take this bracelet?" Stella's fingers curled into a tight fist, her nails biting into her palm. She lifted her gaze, any lingering warmth in her eyes turning to ice. "What did you just say?" Bradly let out a resigned sigh, giving her hand a comforting pat as he murmured gently, "Babe, I already told Shanna she'd get a gift tonight, and she's got her heart set on this one. No need to compete with her. "Plus, I've already snagged you a handful of other pieces. Isn't that plenty?" He said it all lightly, teasingly, as if it were nothing more than a harmless quip. Stella shut her eyes, a nameless sourness creeping along her nerves, coiling around her heart until it felt like she couldn't draw a breath. Given Shanna's modest background, 700,000 dollars was way out of her league. She wouldn't even make the guest list here on her own. The only reason she was in that seat, trading bids blow for blow, was Bradly's backing. His pampering had delivered her straight into Stella's path. Stella whispered, "What if I refuse to back down?" She hoisted her paddle once more, her voice echoing through the room. "1 million dollars." A hush blanketed the hall. The auctioneer clearly picked up on the drama, his delivery faltering. "Number eleven at 1 million dollars. Do I hear higher?" Shanna's eyes welled up, on the verge of tears, as she cast a helpless look at Bradly before tacking on another fifty thousand. "1 million 20 thousand dollars." Stella's features hardened to frost, and she was poised to fire back when the manager bustled over, bending close to murmur, "Mrs. Woodard, apologies. We ran a credit verification on your account, and it's frozen. Got another one we can use?" The words slammed into her like a bolt from the blue, ringing in her ears. She snapped her head toward Bradly, but he'd already looked away. An icy numbness spread through her arms and legs. She though,t 'Of course, it has to be him.' Her primary account was linked with his; besides her, only he could authorize a freeze on her cards. Triumph flickered in Shanna's eyes as she added with a pointed edge, "Well, in that case, Mrs. Woodard, maybe it's time to step aside. You've got so much already. Can't you let me have this one little thing?" Up on stage, the auction rolled on, the display frozen on Shanna's latest bid: 1 million 20 thousand dollars. Shanna could hardly hide her glee, chirping sweetly, "Go on, call it!" But the words had barely left her lips when someone announced he would bid for the lot at any costs right in the second-floor VIP suite. After a momentary silence, the room burst into chaos. "He's declared absolute intent!" Even the auctioneer's expression changed. He'd been in the game for over a decade, but this was his first encounter with such a scenario. He hurriedly called out, "Lot number six goes to the gentleman in box 217, regardless of how high the price goes." Anyone up in those second-floor VIP suites was either swimming in money or held serious sway in Ostralver's upper crust. Stella glanced upward toward the source of the voice, catching only a vague outline behind the draped curtains. Even when she couldn't see his face, the man's crossed-legged posture radiated an unspoken dominance that pressed down on the room. The auctioneer slammed his gavel down with finality, proclaiming, "Congratulations to our esteemed guest in box 217 on winning lot number six! You're now upgraded to black gold status!" Across all of Ostralver's elite scene, fewer than a handful had ever hit black gold level at these events. Stella wondered, 'Just who is this mystery man?' Stella loosened her clenched fist slightly, torn between relief that her mother's heirloom hadn't landed in Shanna's clutches and anxiety over reclaiming it from this unknown figure. No matter what, she'd stop at nothing, pay any price, to bring her mother's possession home. She rose to her feet, intent on marching over to box 217 for a chat, when the attendant who'd just ducked inside reappeared, tray in hand with the bracelet. "What's this? The bidder in 217 having second thoughts?" "Auctions don't do take-backs." "Probably short on funds. I called it. No one's done this here before." As the murmurs swirled, the attendant headed straight for Stella, dipping into a courteous bow with a warm smile. She said, "Mrs. Woodard, the gentleman in box 217 requests that I deliver the bracelet to you as a gift. He wishes for you to follow your true path and for all to unfold as it should." The place erupted in gossip once more, with guests shooting glances her way, some envious, others skeptical, many flat-out stunned. "Isn't that Mrs. Woodard? What's her deal with the upstairs guy?" "Likely just buttering up Mr. Woodard." "Nah, I don't buy it. Out of all the goodies tonight, why zero in on those beads for Mrs. Woodard? Sounds like she's got a real connection there." The buzz filtered through, and Bradly's face turned stone-cold. In a tight, edged voice, he demanded, "Stella, what's the story with you and whoever's in box 217?" Stella held his piercing stare and said flatly, "I have no idea who he is." "!" Bradly jumped up, clamping down on her wrist like a vice. Her soft, fair skin reddened almost instantly under the pressure. Stella winced sharply, jerking her arm back on reflex. "Bradly, have you lost your mind? Haven't you stirred up enough drama for one day?" But he barreled on, blind to her fury, his reddened eyes locked on her as if he could swallow her up. "What's really between you two? "Stella, through all our married years, I've bent over backward for you. Anything you desired, I served it up without question. Why would you betray me like this?" In his mind, it was already a done deal: she was entangled in something shady with the man above. If the guy was angling for a favor from him, Bradly would've recognized him right away. People in Ostralver didn't beat around the bush when they needed something from him. They came direct. The jab landed raw and direct. Bradly blinked, frozen for a beat as a flicker of alarm shot through his eyes. Chapter 4 Don't Know You'd Come Bradly said, "I'm sorry, Stella. I didn't mean it like that. I had no right getting jealous over you and some stranger. It's all on me." Bradly's eyes reddened. "But honestly, there's nothing going on between Shanna and me. I just brought her along as a thank-you. Can you let this slide?" Seeing his cue, Shanna ducked her head meekly, her voice catching. "That's right, Mrs. Woodard. I've been bending over backward to keep my distance from Mr. Woodard so you wouldn't get the wrong impression. "I'm not asking for the world, just a decent birthday gift. I didn't grow up with your advantages; you've had everything handed to you and even snagged a catch like Mr. Woodard. Can't I at least pick out something for myself?" "Just a gift, huh?" Stella closed in on her, one step at a time. "Ms. Erickson, I've never given a damn about this 'gift' you're going on about. What gets under my skin is you, a Woodard Group employee, crossing lines you have no business crossing." As they drew closer, Bradly instinctively stepped in front of Shanna, his voice soft and coaxing. "Stella, if it's bugging you this much, I'll transfer her to a branch office once the auction's over. "But for now, cut me some slack. Let Shanna have the bracelet. When we get home, name your price on anything, and it's yours." Shanna bobbed her head in agreement, tears glistening on her lashes as she pleaded, "Stella, I really adore this bracelet. You've got it all already. Why go after the one thing I want? "Or is this just because you hate my guts and can't resist taking shots at me?" "What makes you think I'd ever like you?" Stella let out a cold snort. "This belonged to me from the start. Why the hell would I give it up?" She took the bracelet from the attendant with casual ease, her smile sharp but empty. "Ms. Erickson, know your place." Her refusal to budge finally wore through Bradly's patience, erasing every bit of softness from his face. "Stella, do you have to humiliate me like this in front of everyone? Where does that leave my dignity? "It's just a crappy old bracelet. Am I really worth less to you than some trinket?" He said it with such conviction, as if he'd wiped from his memory the solemn vow he'd made when proposing: that he'd hunt down every single one of her mother's sold-off keepsakes, no matter what. Stella's hand flew up, delivering a resounding slap across his cheek. The sharp crack rang out, pulling shocked stares from every corner of the room. Bradly's head snapped sideways, his face livid as he fixed her with a glare, his words hissing through clenched teeth. "Stella, drop the drama already. Have I pampered you too much these days, turning you into this unreasonable nightmare?" Stella reined in her temper, keeping her tone even. "Bradly, you better not live to regret today." Without another word, she turned and walked out, not sparing a backward glance. As her figure receded, Shanna gently touched the angry red mark on Bradly's cheek, her voice full of worry. "Mr. Woodard, are you okay? "Stella's got no boundaries. How could she hit you with all these people watching?" Bradly swatted her hand aside, his nails digging into his palm as he stared after her retreating path. "I've spoiled her rotten, letting her forget that everything she has comes from me." Shanna peeked at his changing expression, testing the waters. "Mr. Woodard, about the bracelet..." Bradly rubbed his throbbing cheek, pulled a bank card from his pocket, and handed it over. "1.7 million dollars on there. Buy whatever catches your eye." Box 217, Stella rapped on the door, eager to thank the mystery bidder face-to-face. Silence. She caught a server walking by. "Excuse me, any idea where the gentleman from this box headed?" "He slipped out right after nabbing the last item," the server said. Disappointment flashed in her eyes, but Stella pressed on, "Do you know who he was?" The server gave her a regretful smile. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard, we're not allowed to spill on our VIPs. Don't make this harder for us." Catching herself, Stella moved out of the way. "Thanks all the same." By the time she made it home from the auction, an hour had ticked by. Stella went straight up to the study, fired up the computer, and dove into the assets registered under her and Bradly's names. After tallying up the numbers, she snatched her phone, found lawyer Rubin Cobb's contact, and hit dial. She said, "I've sorted out the asset division documents for me and Bradly and sent them over. I need you to handle the property split by tomorrow." Rubin quickly received the files and nodded respectfully. "Of course, Mrs. Woodard. I'll get right on it." Stella stared intently at her computer screen, her grip tightening on the mouse. "If Bradly's committed bigamy, how should our assets be divided?" "Generally, any property the bigamous party gained through the bigamy can be claimed back by the other spouse," Rubin replied matter-of-factly. Half of Bradly's current wealth had come from Stella's investments to support his career early on. Her expression darkened, and she promptly forwarded the marriage license between him and Shanna. "Rubin, please use every legal avenue to recover my half of the assets." After hanging up, Stella slumped back in her chair, utterly drained physically and emotionally. She closed her eyes slowly, but sleep was nowhere in sight. Bradly would never agree to a divorce. Until she had everything locked down, she couldn't let on that anything was amiss. Just then, the study door was kicked open from the outside. Bradly flung his jacket onto the desk and yanked Stella up from her seat in front of the computer. "Do you realize that because of your little outburst, I've become a laughingstock in our circles? "What exactly do you want? Are you still obsessing over what happened back then?" Stella opened her eyes slowly, her gaze settling calmly on Bradly, but she remained silent. A fire raged in Bradly's chest, intensifying by the second, and he couldn't hold back his fury any longer. "Since we got married, have I ever done anything to wrong you? I come home right on time every night after work, I always fill you in on any business dinners, and if there's even a hint of a woman involved, I skip them entirely! I've bent over backward, and it's still not good enough for you?" He remembered every detail crystal clear. In his mind, these were the sacrifices he'd made to marry her. Stella suddenly found the whole thing absurd. She couldn't bear to look at him anymore, so she stood up and walked straight out of the study without a backward glance. Behind her, Bradly's voice echoed heavily. "Stella, no matter what you think, my conscience is clear." It felt like Stella's heart had been shattered into icy fragments, a sharp, bitter pain surging through her. Her mind buzzed, and for a moment, all she could hear was that phrase repeating over and over. She thought, 'My conscience is clear? So, in his eyes, everything he's done is perfectly justifiable.' The next morning, when Stella woke up, Bradly was already gone. On the table sat the breakfast he'd prepared, tailored exactly to her tastes. Stella pressed her lips together, her feelings a complicated tangle. They'd ended things on a sour note last night, yet Bradly had still made her breakfast this morning. But this was the same man who'd lied to her for years. No matter what, it was time to end things with Bradly. She didn't touch the food and headed straight to the office. These past few years, she'd stayed out of Bradly's business dealings. A lot of her old financial records were outdated now, and she needed the latest reports. The secretary looked startled when she saw her, then managed to say, "Mrs. Woodard, are you here to see Mr. Woodard?" "No." Stella replied evenly. "Send the finance manager in to see me." Her shares were second only to Bradly's, giving her full access to every aspect of the company. The secretary hesitated briefly before nodding. Stella noticed her immediately turning to make a phone call, probably alerting Bradly. Stella didn't intervene; let her. She settled into the finance office, sipping her coffee absentmindedly while flipping through magazines on the shelf. Most were glossy entertainment rags, mixed in with novels and comics. Stella frowned, only now picking up on the details: the desk was covered in a pink plaid mat, cluttered with adorable plush toys. The standout pair was a set of couple dolls, their outfits emblazoned with the letters W and E. It hit Stella suddenly what that meant, and just then, the door behind her swung open. Shanna rushed in. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard." She was clutching a cup of coffee as she apologized. "I had no idea you'd drop by like this..." Chapter 5 All For Milford Stella arched an eyebrow as she looked her over. "So you're the finance manager?" Shanna nodded with a quick smile. "That's me. If you need anything at all, just say the word. Bradly, well, Mr. Woodard is tied up in a meeting right now. But don't worry, I'll make sure to relay whatever message you have." Stella let out a soft laugh. "No need for that." She regarded Shanna with clear curiosity. "I'm not looking for Bradly. I'm here to see you." Shanna's smile faltered for a moment before she recovered, her tone turning gentle. "Mrs. Woodard, I get that you're still bothered by what went down at the auction last night, but there's no reason to be so worked up about my connection to Mr. Woodard. After all..." She raised her hand, the elegant diamond ring on her finger glinting under the light, perfectly complementing her bashful grin. "I'm already married, and things are great between me and my husband." Stella's eyes locked on the ring, her breath hitching just for an instant. It was ridiculous. In this whole messed-up situation, she was the one playing the role of the mistress. The ring was an exact match for the one Bradly had given her during his proposal. But within seconds, Stella averted her gaze. "It's a lovely ring, but you're mistaken." She spoke unhurriedly, "I'm just here to grab the latest financial report from you. That's all." Stella caught the sour shift in Shanna's expression and smiled to herself. "Seems like you're the one on edge here, Ms. Erickson." Shanna's face transformed completely, that smug spark in her eyes snuffed out. She bit her lip, unable to find words for a long beat. Stella watched her with unruffled poise. "Do I need to repeat my request, Ms. Erickson?" The words had barely left her mouth when Bradly burst in, his expression clouding over at the sight. "Stella, wasn't the scene from last night enough?" His voice was laced with ice. "How long are you planning to drag this out? I've told you already. There's nothing going on between me and Shanna. If you don't believe me..." Stella interrupted him mid-sentence, "Oh, I believe you. Absolutely." A faint smirk tugged at her lips, though her eyes remained frosty as they settled on Shanna. "After all, Ms. Erickson's already married. She just mentioned it herself." The statement landed like a bomb. Shanna's face drained of color, and Bradly's followed suit. He shot her a withering glare. Tears sprang to Shanna's eyes in an instant. Stella had no interest in watching the drama unfold any further. She said evenly, "I'm here for this year's financials. I hold forty percent of the company. Surely I can access that, right?" Bradly seemed to snap back to reality, nodding hastily. "Of course you can." He barked orders at the secretary to fetch it immediately, all the while stealing wary glances at her face. Once he confirmed she wasn't giving anything away, he exhaled almost imperceptibly in relief. He said, "Stella, what's with the sudden interest? You've never bothered with company matters before." Stella answered coolly, "After the account freeze last night, I decided it's smarter to set up a separate one." Bradly's expression froze again. "Stella..." The secretary returned promptly with the report. Stella brushed Bradly aside, skimmed through it quickly, and was heading for the door when he caught her by the wrist. He said, "Stella, about the family dinner tonight, are you coming home with me?" His tone was pleading, like he needed her answer to reassure himself that she hadn't caught on to anything fishy. Stella didn't look back, just replying calmly, "Sure." Bradly's face lit up. "Great, I'll swing by after work to pick you up." Stella dropped her gaze, masking the cool detachment in her eyes. She'd only agreed to head back to the family estate for one specific reason. The marriage license from when she and Bradly had tied the knot was a phony, but he'd made a whole production out of stashing it away at the house, claiming it had to be kept secure. Nothing could serve as stronger proof. Once she got her hands on it, his bigamy would be ironclad. Stella didn't bother waiting for Bradly; she hailed a cab and got there ahead of time. She'd figured it was just a standard family gathering, but she was caught off guard by the full turnout. Bradly's parents, fresh from their overseas vacation last week, were back, and even the distant relatives from the Woodard family's side branches had shown up en masse. "Stella, dear." As she walked in, Nadine Woodard peered over her shoulder. "Bradly didn't come with you?" Stella answered evenly, "He'll be along shortly." Nadine clicked her tongue, her irritation obvious. "On an important occasion like this, letting someone from outside the family arrive solo, what's got into him?" Stella's brow furrowed just a touch. She and Bradly had been engaged since childhood, but after her mother's passing, the Daniels family's status had tanked while the Woodard family kept climbing. That was when Nadine started pushing to scrap the arrangement, and she'd mentioned it more than a few times. But Chuck Woodard was upright and principled, flat-out refusing to play the social-climbing game. With Bradly dead set on marrying her and no one else, Nadine had reluctantly given in, though she made her resentment clear. Even after the marriage, she never passed up an opportunity to give Stella the cold shoulder. She was about to add something else when the butler rushed in and murmured, "He's here." Nadine promptly dropped the subject with Stella and jumped to her feet, the extended family hustling out right behind her to welcome the arrivals. The level of pomp surprised Stella. The Woodard family was already at the top of Ostralver's social elite. For them to pull out all the stops like this... Standing at the edge of the group, Stella glanced up and saw a black Maybach rolling up to the front of the estate. Someone hurried forward to open the door respectfully, and a tall, imposing figure stepped out unhurriedly. The man wore a sleek black suit, his chiseled features sharp, eyes as midnight, radiating a fierce intensity. Every gesture exuded a natural poise and authority that made it tough to hold his stare. The crowd swarmed forward in a rush, but he stayed cool and detached the whole time, his stunningly handsome face as impassive as carved ice, showing zero emotion. Then, as if picking up on something, he looked up toward Stella. Their eyes locked unexpectedly, sending her heart pounding. It was Milford Woodard, Bradly's brother. He'd returned to the country. Though they were brothers in name, Milford wasn't all that tight with the family. He'd headed overseas young and had spent years growing the business abroad. His father Edward Woodard was a total lightweight, good only at spending cash, not earning it. His grandpa Chuck had the smarts and drive, but age was catching up, leaving him unable to manage it all. Real power over the Woodard family had shifted to Milford ages ago. Stella let out a quiet breath. She thought, 'That explains the big crowd today. They've all turned out for Milford.' Chapter 6 Need Help? Stella lingered in the corner of the living room, watching the relatives descend like a swarm of locusts, all scrambling to surround Milford. Bradly stood next to Nadine, flashing a polished smile as he greeted, "Hey, Milford." The uncles who'd been buttering up Bradly just a minute ago quickly switched gears, beaming with over-the-top enthusiasm as they stepped up to say hello. "Milford, what prompted the sudden return?" "Milford, I hear you're in the middle of acquiring a domestic company? You're just getting more impressive by the day." "Come on inside, take a seat. We've got some top-shelf coffee." Bradly caught the stark contrast in the uncles' warmth, his smile fading briefly before he pulled it together and led the way forward. Stella quietly eyed the tall, strikingly handsome Milford striding into the living room like the star of the show, instinctively edging back a step. Now fully pushed to the fringes of the crowd, she shifted aside to let the trailing group pass, doing everything she could to blend into the wallpaper. Milford approached steadily. Unlike Bradly's flashy, outgoing vibe, he had a more brooding, aloof kind of handsomeness, like a pine tree blanketed in snow, regal and intimidating. He acknowledged the flattery around him with simple nods, his eyes scanning the room casually, subtly taking stock of everyone there. Until his gaze swept over Stella again, and he came to an abrupt halt. He paused, causing Bradly to stop too. "Something wrong, Milford?" Milford didn't respond, his steady gaze fixed on Stella. It was only a look, but it jolted her to her core. She felt an odd sense of being claimed, uninvited. Yet she'd barely crossed paths with Milford before. Bradly and the others traced his stare, his eyebrow quirking up. "Stella, come say hi to Big Milford." Stella started to step forward, but Milford beat her to it, walking straight toward her. Bradly and the rest exchanged surprised glances. So far, everyone had been approaching Milford. He hadn't initiated with a soul. Milford's deep eyes gave nothing away. "Stella?" Her breath hitched, like a faint breeze had brushed her ear. She hadn't anticipated him coming over to chat. It had been years, and they'd only met once or twice, but he still remembered her. Stella nodded. "Milford, it's been ages—" Before she could finish, Milford held out his hand. The move was so casual, so natural. Out of pure reflex and politeness, Stella extended hers, their palms connecting. In that brief clasp, she felt him squeeze gently, his thumb settling on her fingers and grazing them with a warm intensity. Milford released after just a second. Suddenly, Bradly sidled up, drawing Stella into his side with an arm around her waist, lacing his fingers through her left hand. He said, "Milford, how long are you in town this time? Stella and I can take you out to dinner one of these days." Milford took in their cozy pose, his glance dropping to their intertwined hands. "About a month." The words had barely left his mouth when Chuck came down the stairs, leaning on the butler for support. Milford headed over to talk with him. Not long after, the kitchen called that the party was ready. Stella trailed Bradly to their seats on the left side of the main table. Everyone filed in and sat. As the eldest branch, the two Woodard brothers took priority. Chuck claimed the head of the main table, with Nadine and Milford next in line. Stella and Bradly fell further down the order, landing her right across from Milford on the diagonal. The family feast got underway, with everyone firing questions at Milford about what he'd been up to lately. Stella kept her head down, nibbling at her food while catching bits of the conversation. Zrester bigwig, major stakeholder in Wonder Group, founder of that financial exchange and the smart transportation AI... Milford's credentials were endless and mind-blowing. She thought back to that Zrester party invite list she'd snagged years ago. Milford was third from the top, while she languished at the bottom. In all these years, she'd had next to no interaction with him. Right after the wedding, this mysterious Milford had only shown up once. He dropped off a gift and vanished. In just a handful of years, Milford had climbed to the pinnacle of Zrester's power players. His talent was obvious. Before long, the family party wound down, and folks scattered to grab desserts. Still hung up on that marriage license, Stella excused herself to head upstairs for a coat change. Bradly was itching to chat with Milford, his gaze fixed that way as he muttered distractedly, "Yeah, go on up." Stella wasted no time hustling upstairs. With the crowd milling about downstairs, she slipped to the third floor of the villa and nudged open Bradly's bedroom door. There it was: the glaring marriage license perched right on top of the nightstand, framed, flanked by their wedding portrait. As she stepped closer, memories of Bradly's cozy moments with Shanna flooded her brain, her nails digging slowly into her palm. That license seared her eyes, like it was sneering at her gullibility. She never should've caved, never should've handed Bradly a second shot. It just went to show that people's hearts circled back for seconds. Disgust flickered in her eyes as she hauled the desk's computer chair over, the kind with wheels and a swivel, shaky at best. She climbed onto it, planting one foot on the bed for stability, teetering just enough to hold steady. Stella hiked up her pearl-white knee-length dress a bit and stretched upward slowly. Fingers extended to the max, but she was still a couple inches shy. She rose onto her tiptoes, straining, but no dice. Frowning from her perch, she scanned around and snagged a book from beside the cabinet. As she leaned down, footsteps suddenly echoed outside the door. Fast, but measured. A man's, for sure. Her pulse spiked. She clutched the table, scrambling to hop down, but, perfect timing, her other sleeve caught on the cabinet's edge. She tugged frantically to break free, but it was too late to descend. The door flew open out of nowhere. Stella went rigid, her knees giving way as she toppled backward off the chair. A quick yelp escaped her, but the expected crash never hit. A firm hand latched precisely onto her thigh, another banding around her waist, hauling her into a solid hold and planting her feet firmly on the floor. She slammed into a warm, toned chest, a crisp, grounding sandalwood aroma enveloping her, not Bradly's scent. Stella glanced up, nearly clipping the guy's chin. Milford let go right away, backing off a step to give her space. Her cheeks burned, the thigh he'd gripped feeling like it was on fire. Mortified and frozen, she stammered, "Th-thanks." Milford stayed composed, his eyes skimming her flushed face and the pinkened patch of skin on her thigh from his hold. His Adam's apple dipped subtly. "Didn't realize you were in here. My bad." Stella shook her head, even more flustered. She was the one imposing on him. Milford flicked a glance upward. "Need some help?" She looked too. Up top, the marriage license screamed for attention. Chapter 7 Don't Let Me Hate You Stella just came out with it. "I want to get the marriage license down." Milford hesitated for a beat, without probing why she needed it, and slid the chair out of the way. Tall and long-limbed, he barely had to tip up on his toes to snag it effortlessly. Milford skimmed the lettering on the license, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes before the faintest quirk tugged at his lips, almost undetectable. He passed it over to Stella. "Ah, I see." She missed the words, taking it with a soft murmur: "Thanks, Milford." Her palms were slick with sweat now, but holding the certificate still sent an icy shiver through her. Those bold letters were a brutal reminder. This whole marriage had been one big joke. From beginning to end, Bradly's grand performance of undying love had always had a third wheel in the shadows. Milford dropped his gaze. Towering over her, all he could make out was the neat swirl at the top of her head, round and oddly appealing. Those slim, pale hands gripped the certificate like a vise, completely bloodless. Milford asked offhandedly, "So, what's the marriage license for?" "Oh, I just want to bring it home and store it there," Stella shot back, pulling an excuse out of thin air. Milford's stare felt like it enveloped her, the heat of it almost scorching, though he kept his hands to himself. Then he casually adjusted his cufflinks and turned to go. Stella let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, sagging against the cool cabinet. Her thigh still tingled with warmth from his grip; she quickly smoothed her skirt down, tucked the license into her bag, and only left the room once everything looked undisturbed. Bradly was still out in the back garden, deep in conversation. Stella kept her face neutral, strolling over to stand at his side. A few relatives were chatting with him. "Hey, word is Milford actually got back a couple days ago, but only tipped us off today." Bradly looked taken aback. "I thought he was flying in today?" "Nope, sounds like he hit up some auction. I only heard bits and pieces, supposedly the other night at the Empire Auction House." "He must not have gone. I was there that evening too, and I didn't see him anywhere," Bradly said, frowning in confusion. Stella's eyelashes flickered subtly, but she played it cool. Out of nowhere, her mind jumped back to that enigmatic bidder in suite 217. She wondered, 'Could Milford be the mystery guest who got the bracelet for me?' She shoved the thought down as soon as it surfaced. They'd only crossed paths once, total strangers really, connected by the flimsiest in-law tie. No matter how you sliced it, Milford wouldn't stick his neck out for her. Just like Bradly said, he hadn't caught wind of anything, so it couldn't be Milford. Stella let it go. After some more mingling, the group started to break up. Bradly steered her over to bid farewell to Milford. "Mom, Milford, we're taking off. Let's set up a family dinner soon when things settle." Milford slouched back in his chair with effortless nonchalance and gave a nod. "I'm knee-deep in an acquisition, no hurry on the get-together. But you..." He lifted his head, his expression sharpening. "Keep your life on the straight and narrow. Don't veer off track." The edge of warning in his voice was crystal clear. Bradly had grown up overshadowed by Milford; he went rigid but brushed it off casually. "Come on, everything's good. My company's running smooth as ever. If you're skeptical, drop by anytime and pore over the financials—knock yourself out." "It's not just about the company," Milford said softly, eyes down as he savored a sip of coffee. Stella couldn't help stealing a glance at him, and in that instant, a ridiculous idea struck her. From what Bradly had mentioned, Milford was abroad most of the time but still had the inside scoop on everything back home. She wondered, 'Does he know about the shady stuff Bradly is up to on the sly?' "Milford, I hear you. I'll make sure to nurture my marriage with Stella, our whole life together." Bradly grinned, threading his fingers through Stella's. Milford's gaze lingered on their joined hands for a second before drifting away, sealed with a subtle nod. Stella had no desire for any more close contact with Bradly, so she subtly shook his hand free without thinking. A split second later, his disbelieving stare locked onto her face, and he tried to grab her again. She'd known her move would humiliate him in the moment, so she didn't bother saying goodbye to Milford. She just turned and walked out ahead. Once they slid into the car, Bradly shed his polite, deferential mask from earlier, reverting to his entitled rich-kid swagger. He tugged his tie loose, a flicker of annoyance pinching his brows. "Always playing the big-brother card to chew me out, same crap since we were little. "So what if he's crushing it overseas? I'm holding my own just fine back home. Who in Ostralver would even think about messing with me?" Bradly fished out a menthol cigarette on autopilot, ready to light up, but he caught himself after glancing at Stella and shoved it back. He said, "All these years, folks have been whispering, or saying it straight to my face, that my company's thriving because of his pull. Like he's behind every damn thing. "And you? You flat-out refused to let me hold your hand back there. Trying to make me look like an idiot in front of him?" His expression iced over, the edge in his voice impossible to miss. Stella's frown deepened as she took it in. Even without knowing Milford all that well, she understood that Bradly's cocky antics in Ostralver, brushing people off like they were nothing, had always been propped up by Milford's clout. She'd assumed the brothers were tight, but clearly Bradly's respect was just for show; underneath, his grudge against Milford simmered deep. She could overlook a lot, but with things the way they were now, there was zero point in him putting on that phony hand-holding act. Stella gripped her bag, the one with the marriage license inside, and couldn't bite her tongue. "We haven't held hands in forever. It feels off to me." The car went dead quiet. She was right. Their physical closeness had dwindled so much that even she couldn't pinpoint the last time. Bradly's brow creased, and he snapped the cigarette filter clean off between his fingers. "What was that?" Stella met his eyes steadily. "From here on out, let's skip the pointless touchy-feely stuff. It just doesn't sit right." She hadn't even finished when the brakes screeched harshly. The car lurched to a halt on the empty shoulder of the road. Stella almost smacked into the window from the force, her pulse hammering as she barked, "Are you out of your mind?" Bradly loomed over her, fingers digging into her chin, irritation boiling in his glare. "Stella, do you have any idea what you're saying?" The pinch stung like crazy, and the absurdity of it all hit her as she wrestled to shove him off. "Is it not true? When's the last time we even held hands. Can you remember?" Bradly's gaze turned stormy, like she'd struck a raw spot. "I bet you're hung up on Milford, just like that girl from the second branch. That's why you pulled away in front of him. You're trying to cut ties with me?" "Bradly! What the hell are you babbling about?" Anger surged through her as she pushed harder. "Don't you dare pin your gross history on me!" The way the family had orbited Milford like he was the sun had obviously gotten under his skin. The more she resisted, the darker his look grew. Abruptly, he leaned in and smashed his mouth against hers. Stella's eyes flew wide, her head whipping aside to evade as she hammered at his shoulders with everything she had. He'd locked lips with Shanna god knows how often. The thought turned her stomach, so she clamped down and bit him hard. Bradly yelped in pain, jerking back as the fog cleared and he clocked what he'd just done, regret flashing across his face. Blood dotted his lip, but he brushed it off, lunging to wrap her in his arms. "I'm sorry, Stella, baby, I'm so sorry. I screwed up; it was a stupid impulse..." Drained of energy, Stella sagged into the passenger seat, letting him hold her while a barren wave of emptiness and revulsion washed over her. The hug she'd once melted into now repulsed her to her core. "Get off me." Her voice came out rough and scratchy. "Bradly, don't push me to hating you."
Chapter 1 Don't Want Him Anymore "I'm sorry, ma'am." On the other end of the line, the insurance customer service rep said coolly, "After checking our records, the car owner, Mr. Woodard, is indeed married, but the spouse listed here isn't you." Stella Daniels had gotten into a car accident on her way to the Woodard Group headquarters. She couldn't get through to Bradly Woodard on his phone, so she had no choice but to call the insurance company. The car was registered in Bradly's name, but as his wife, she should be able to process the claim too. "When Mr. Woodard picked up the car, he came with his wife and provided the original marriage license. Her last name is Erickson, and her full name is Shanna Erickson," the rep said. It hit Stella like a slap in the face. Dizziness washed over her in waves, leaving her whole body shaking uncontrollably. She and Bradly had been childhood sweethearts. Their families were old friends, and everyone in Ostralver's high society knew how clingy he was with her. Bradly couldn't stand being apart from her even for a single day. Three years ago, when Stella headed abroad for her studies, Bradly had the plane stopped just for her. During her three years in Ensland, he expanded his business overseas to make it easier to look after her. Sixteen thousand miles apart, he'd still fly across the ocean every week to see her. The year she came down with a severe lung illness and nearly didn't pull through, she spent a week in intensive care. Bradly ignored the infection risks and stayed right by her side, sliding a ring onto her finger. He said, "If anything happens to you, I'll go with you. We'll be husband and wife in the next life too." For Bradly's sake, she turned down her mentor's offer to stay on in the lab and headed back home. Brimming with excitement, she went to find him, planning to surprise him. But when she pushed open the door to the CEO's office, she saw a slender, pretty woman straddling his lap. The woman's innocent face tilted upward, her voice whiny and aggrieved. "Mr. Woodard, what happens to me now that Stella is back?" Bradly sat in his executive chair, his tall frame looming over her. A flash of ruthlessness crossed his stern features. "You? You're just her stand-in. Don't forget your place." He lifted his hand, pinching her delicate chin with a sneer. "Barely a three-out-of-ten resemblance, and you think you can compare to her?" Stella was still clutching the gift she'd prepared for him. With a loud "bang," it dropped to the floor, finally breaking the scene in the office. Bradly's face drained of color as he shoved the woman off and jumped to his feet. That woman was Shanna. After Stella caught them in the act, Bradly fired Shanna on the spot and pulled out all the stops to win her back. Bradly, the arrogant prince of Ostralver's elite circles, humbled himself to the dust before her, begging her to give him another chance. Any project she set her sights on, he'd drop without a second thought. He stood in the pouring rain outside her building for over a week, just for a glimpse of her. He said, "Stella, I'm not asking you to forgive me. At least let me explain. "I only ever saw Shanna as your replacement. You've been gone abroad for so long; I missed you terribly. I swear, I just kept her around. Nothing more ever happened between us. "That time you walked in, I'd had too much to drink, and she deliberately tempted me. I lost control for a moment... "I've already let her go, and she won't show up in our lives again. Stella, please, come back to me." Back then, Stella couldn't stand even the slightest betrayal. She insisted on breaking off the engagement. Until that one incident. She was kidnapped by a business rival. The kidnappers reneged on the deal, tied her up in an abandoned factory, and set the place ablaze. Bradly charged into the flames without a second thought to rescue her, shielding her from a collapsing steel beam. He ended up gravely injured, confined to bed for nearly six months. By risking his life, Bradly finally melted her resolve. Once he was out of the hospital, she accepted his proposal, and they threw a lavish wedding. In the two years since they tied the knot, he'd treated her just as devotedly as ever, with zero scandals. He even imposed a strict curfew on himself, heading home right on time every day. Even on out-of-town business trips, he'd video call her constantly. His partners would tease him about being henpecked. He never denied it. Instead, he'd grin proudly and say, "A real man takes care of his family." Memories rushed through Stella's mind like a whirlwind, every past moment flashing by in a blur. Her legs buckled, and she dropped to her knees, burying her face in her hands. She couldn't figure out which Bradly was the real one anymore. A bitter, mocking gleam sparked in her eyes. She thought, 'How absurd.' She'd been his wife for two years, and only now was she learning that even their marriage license had been a sham. Stella scrubbed her face hard, her bangs already soaked with cold sweat. She ignored the other driver's furious yelling and calmly dialed the police. They showed up fast. After finishing her statement, Stella left the station under a sky that had gone completely dark. Her phone lit up with several missed calls from Bradly. When she hadn't answered, he'd sent texts instead. Bradly: [Babe, I was tied up in a key meeting this afternoon. Signal jammers were on, so I missed your call. You okay?] Bradly: [I've got a client dinner tonight, so I'll be late getting home. I double-checked: no women involved, so no need to worry.] Bradly: [Head to bed early. Don't wait up. Love you.] Stella stared at the screen, a sharp wave of irony twisting in her gut. Bradly didn't stagger in until the wee hours. He reeked of alcohol, which almost, but not quite, masked the subtle whiff of perfume on him. "Honey..." He could barely keep his balance, stumbling over to wrap his arms around her through the blanket. "I missed you so damn much..." Stella didn't say a word. Only once he was dead to the world did she sit up quietly and unlock his phone with his fingerprint. The thing was squeaky clean, no suspicious traces at all. His contacts were mostly buddies and business folks, with hers pinned at the top as "Darling Wife." Flawlessly tidy, just like their sham of a marriage. Stella hooked the phone up to her computer, and it didn't take long to uncover his second WhatsApp account. She signed in, and right away, messages popped up from a profile with a cute pink kitten avatar, labeled "Baby." Shanna: [Bradly, thanks for tonight. Without you, I wouldn't have known what to do.] Shanna: [I've always thought meeting you was the luckiest thing that's ever happened to me. I won't intrude on your life. As long as you swing by to see me once in a while, that's enough to make me happy.] Stella scrolled back through the history. She'd suspected as much, but seeing it all laid out still hit her like a punch to the chest, leaving her breathless. They chatted nearly every day. Shanna never missed a good morning message, and Bradly's replies had shifted over time, from total silence at first, to sporadic responses, and now to answering every single one. A chill spread through her. Stella clutched the phone tighter, knowing she should quit while she was ahead but unable to stop herself from digging deeper. Shanna: [Bradly, sorry, I had a few drinks and lost it for a bit. Doc says I'm okay now, so don't stress.] Shanna: [Mrs. Woodard's birthday bash is important. Go enjoy it with her. I'll be fine.] Stella squeezed her eyes shut as the memory came rushing back. Her birthday. Bradly had spent over a month planning it down to the last detail, but that day, he was totally distracted. Hell, he almost cut his own hand while slicing the cake. When she'd asked what was up, he'd brushed it off as work drama, told her not to worry, then pulled her into a soft embrace and encouraged her to blow out the candles and make a wish. It all made sense now, as she stared at this chat log. That same day, Shanna had tried to kill herself by slashing her wrists and ended up in the ER. A sour bitterness flooded her chest like a rising tide. In those brief seconds when she'd closed her eyes to wish, she wondered, 'Was he agonizing over Shanna in the hospital, or picturing endless years together with her?' Stella knew she didn't need an answer to that anymore. She gently placed the phone back and looked down at Bradly, fast asleep beside her. She'd known him since she was four, and for the twenty years that followed, she'd truly believed his love was hers alone, irreplaceable. But now she saw it for what it was: just cheap free samples at a store, handed out to anyone who walked by. If that was all it amounted to, she was done with it. Chapter 2 Bid Against Her The next day, Stella woke to find Bradly busy in the kitchen, his broad shoulders narrowing to a slim waist, his tall, lean build moving with purpose. The sight hit her hard, a dull ache tightening in her chest. Bradly had learned to cook entirely for her sake. She still remembered that turbulent period when the Woodard Group was in crisis. His rivals had targeted her, paying off a servant to poison her food. She'd been unconscious for three full days. When she finally woke, Bradly was there, his eyes red-rimmed and veined with exhaustion, gripping her hand like a lifeline. The instant she stirred, the imposing Bradly crumbled forward, enveloping her in a hug as scalding tears fell onto her skin. From then on, Bradly threw himself into cooking lessons, taking charge of all her meals. In less than a month, he'd gone from a spoiled elite who couldn't distinguish spices to turning out dishes worthy of a Michelin chef. Just then, his phone rang. Stella glanced at it but made no move to answer. Bradly darted out of the kitchen, apron still on, grabbing the phone with a barely concealed flash of anxiety. Stella pretended not to notice and went to wash up. When she came back, the table was set with breakfast, and he was slipping into his suit jacket from the coat rack. Seeing her, he said gently, "There's an emergency at work. I have to run. Sorry I can't join you for breakfast." Stella murmured, "Sure, work comes first." He was clearly in a hurry, because he didn't pick up on the new edge of cool distance in her tone and rushed out. She stared blankly after him until he was gone, then dumped the entire spread into the trash. Then she picked up her phone and dialed a number. "That offer you made before? I'm on board." The person on the other end erupted in delight, chattering away before shifting to broken Andosa Language. "Stella, why the sudden change of heart? I've bugged you about this so many times, and you always said you were married now and focusing on family." A mocking glint flickered in Stella's eyes. She thought, 'Married? This so-called marriage has been dead on arrival.' The caller was her former mentor from her overseas studies. He'd reached out lately, hoping she'd join his new team and spearhead a major project. At the time, she'd kept saying no out of loyalty to Bradly. Now, she only wished she'd seen through the absurd joke of their marriage earlier. After the call, she contacted immigration to schedule a passport renewal. It would take about a week. But before heading out, she had one loose end to tie up. That evening, Stella showed up at a private auction at the Cloud Hotel. She was after one of her mother's keepsakes. Her mom had died when she was eight, and soon after, the Daniels family had liquidated her wedding gift. Stella had been hunting down the items ever since. Over the years, she'd only reclaimed a few. Tonight's auction featured a bracelet from that collection, one her mother had picked up on a trip to Ijance. It was utterly unique, irreplaceable. Whatever it took, she was getting it back. Stella settled into her seat just as the auction was about to start. She was flipping through the catalog when Bradly's voice floated over. "Didn't I already pick out that royal blue sapphire set for you? Not good enough?" His voice carried that familiar tenderness. Shanna linked her arm with his, pouting playfully. "Your taste sucks! I want to pick my own birthday gift." Stella watched them quietly until Bradly threaded through the guests and their gazes collided by chance. The color drained from his face. On pure reflex, he jerked his arm away from Shanna. "Stella." He strode over quickly. "I tried calling you a few times, but you didn't answer. Were you planning to surprise me?" Even though he tried to play it cool, she could still catch that subtle hint of panic in his expression. Stella didn't bother calling him on it, replying evenly, "My phone was on silent. I didn't hear it." Bradly visibly relaxed, casually taking her hand in his with a look of concern. "Your hands are like ice. Didn't I warn you about the cold snap today? You're always putting style over staying warm. If you catch a chill, you know it'll just kill me." As he talked, he signaled a server for a blanket and draped it snugly around her shoulders. Stella kept a straight face, brushing him off as she looked past him to Shanna, who lingered behind with a scowl. Shanna nibbled her lip, then defiantly dropped into the seat next to Bradly, her gaze simmering with irritation. Bradly leaned closer, dropping his voice to explain, "We just wrapped up a major project at the company, and Shanna pulled her weight big time. Her birthday's around the corner, so I thought I'd treat her to something as a project bonus." He eyed her anxiously. "Stella, you're not mad, right?" Shanna piped up in a soft, vulnerable tone. "Mrs. Woodard, if this upsets you, I'll just go. I don't want to get in the way of you and Mr. Woodard." Stella's mouth quirked into a smile that never touched her eyes. "We're married. A little thing like this? Of course it doesn't bother me." The auction got underway shortly after. Bradly treated Shanna like she was invisible, focusing entirely on Stella. He paged through the catalog, throwing in bids left and right. "Babe, this would look amazing on you." He grinned, tenderly brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his tone warm and intimate. "You'd be gorgeous in it." Stella averted her eyes, but out of the corner of her vision, she saw Shanna discreetly clutching the edge of Bradly's jacket in the dim light. Their gazes locked for a split second in a shared, lingering look. She masked the derision in her own eyes, struck by how absurd it all was. Bradly seemed totally at ease juggling both women, convinced he was keeping things balanced, one with the official status, the other with his undivided public attention. She thought, 'What could be fairer than that?' But Stella had never been interested in that kind of equilibrium. Her world extended far beyond romance. Bradly? He was just a small detour on her path, a misstep she'd own up to. And now, it was time to set things right. "Next up: a string of bracelet. Fine-grained texture, deep aroma that lingers. Starting bid at 170,000 dollars, with increments of at least 20,000 dollars!" The auctioneer's pumped-up voice echoed through the room. Finally, Stella's main target for the evening. Bids flew in fast, the screen flickering with updates as the auctioneer called out, "Number 17 lady at 200,000 dollars! Number 9 gentleman ups it to 260,000 dollars! Going higher?" Once the initial frenzy tapered off, Stella lifted her paddle. "500,000 dollars." She'd doubled the current bid in one go. It was a hefty amount. Sure, the bracelet was top-notch, but it wasn't the auction's highlight. The room went quiet after her call; no one countered. "Fantastic! Number 11 lady at 500,000 dollars! "500,000 dollars once! 500,000 dollars twice!" The auctioneer hoisted his gavel, poised to bring it down. "No more bids? Then 500,000 dollars—" "520,000 dollars," A gentle, hesitant voice interrupted. Shanna shrank against Bradly's side, paddle in hand, murmuring timidly to him, "Is this where I put in the amount?" Chapter 3 You're Dirty Stella frowned and raised her bid. "540,000 dollars." But Shanna was right behind her, countering with, "560,000 dollars." How annoyingly precise, each time, she stuck to the bare minimum, slapping on just 20,000 dollars more than Stella's offer. Shanna turned toward her, her voice dripping with plea. "Stella, you've got plenty of jewelry already. Please, let me have this one. I adore it. "I'm not like you, born with money, everything handed to you on a silver platter. You snap your fingers and get whatever you want. If it goes any higher, I really won't be able to keep up." Stella didn't bother looking at her, just quirking her lips in a thin smile. "Isn't Mr. Woodard covering the cost for you? What are you stressing about?" Shanna's face went a shade paler, but she answered in that soft, demure tone, "Even so, Mr. Woodard earns his money the hard way. If I can save him a bit, I ought to." She was the epitome of considerate and caring. After several more back-and-forth bids, the bracelet's price had soared to 700,000 dollars. Stella let out a chilly scoff and was opening her mouth to up the ante when Bradly beat her to it. He said, "Babe, why don't we just let Shanna take this bracelet?" Stella's fingers curled into a tight fist, her nails biting into her palm. She lifted her gaze, any lingering warmth in her eyes turning to ice. "What did you just say?" Bradly let out a resigned sigh, giving her hand a comforting pat as he murmured gently, "Babe, I already told Shanna she'd get a gift tonight, and she's got her heart set on this one. No need to compete with her. "Plus, I've already snagged you a handful of other pieces. Isn't that plenty?" He said it all lightly, teasingly, as if it were nothing more than a harmless quip. Stella shut her eyes, a nameless sourness creeping along her nerves, coiling around her heart until it felt like she couldn't draw a breath. Given Shanna's modest background, 700,000 dollars was way out of her league. She wouldn't even make the guest list here on her own. The only reason she was in that seat, trading bids blow for blow, was Bradly's backing. His pampering had delivered her straight into Stella's path. Stella whispered, "What if I refuse to back down?" She hoisted her paddle once more, her voice echoing through the room. "1 million dollars." A hush blanketed the hall. The auctioneer clearly picked up on the drama, his delivery faltering. "Number eleven at 1 million dollars. Do I hear higher?" Shanna's eyes welled up, on the verge of tears, as she cast a helpless look at Bradly before tacking on another fifty thousand. "1 million 20 thousand dollars." Stella's features hardened to frost, and she was poised to fire back when the manager bustled over, bending close to murmur, "Mrs. Woodard, apologies. We ran a credit verification on your account, and it's frozen. Got another one we can use?" The words slammed into her like a bolt from the blue, ringing in her ears. She snapped her head toward Bradly, but he'd already looked away. An icy numbness spread through her arms and legs. She though,t 'Of course, it has to be him.' Her primary account was linked with his; besides her, only he could authorize a freeze on her cards. Triumph flickered in Shanna's eyes as she added with a pointed edge, "Well, in that case, Mrs. Woodard, maybe it's time to step aside. You've got so much already. Can't you let me have this one little thing?" Up on stage, the auction rolled on, the display frozen on Shanna's latest bid: 1 million 20 thousand dollars. Shanna could hardly hide her glee, chirping sweetly, "Go on, call it!" But the words had barely left her lips when someone announced he would bid for the lot at any costs right in the second-floor VIP suite. After a momentary silence, the room burst into chaos. "He's declared absolute intent!" Even the auctioneer's expression changed. He'd been in the game for over a decade, but this was his first encounter with such a scenario. He hurriedly called out, "Lot number six goes to the gentleman in box 217, regardless of how high the price goes." Anyone up in those second-floor VIP suites was either swimming in money or held serious sway in Ostralver's upper crust. Stella glanced upward toward the source of the voice, catching only a vague outline behind the draped curtains. Even when she couldn't see his face, the man's crossed-legged posture radiated an unspoken dominance that pressed down on the room. The auctioneer slammed his gavel down with finality, proclaiming, "Congratulations to our esteemed guest in box 217 on winning lot number six! You're now upgraded to black gold status!" Across all of Ostralver's elite scene, fewer than a handful had ever hit black gold level at these events. Stella wondered, 'Just who is this mystery man?' Stella loosened her clenched fist slightly, torn between relief that her mother's heirloom hadn't landed in Shanna's clutches and anxiety over reclaiming it from this unknown figure. No matter what, she'd stop at nothing, pay any price, to bring her mother's possession home. She rose to her feet, intent on marching over to box 217 for a chat, when the attendant who'd just ducked inside reappeared, tray in hand with the bracelet. "What's this? The bidder in 217 having second thoughts?" "Auctions don't do take-backs." "Probably short on funds. I called it. No one's done this here before." As the murmurs swirled, the attendant headed straight for Stella, dipping into a courteous bow with a warm smile. She said, "Mrs. Woodard, the gentleman in box 217 requests that I deliver the bracelet to you as a gift. He wishes for you to follow your true path and for all to unfold as it should." The place erupted in gossip once more, with guests shooting glances her way, some envious, others skeptical, many flat-out stunned. "Isn't that Mrs. Woodard? What's her deal with the upstairs guy?" "Likely just buttering up Mr. Woodard." "Nah, I don't buy it. Out of all the goodies tonight, why zero in on those beads for Mrs. Woodard? Sounds like she's got a real connection there." The buzz filtered through, and Bradly's face turned stone-cold. In a tight, edged voice, he demanded, "Stella, what's the story with you and whoever's in box 217?" Stella held his piercing stare and said flatly, "I have no idea who he is." "!" Bradly jumped up, clamping down on her wrist like a vice. Her soft, fair skin reddened almost instantly under the pressure. Stella winced sharply, jerking her arm back on reflex. "Bradly, have you lost your mind? Haven't you stirred up enough drama for one day?" But he barreled on, blind to her fury, his reddened eyes locked on her as if he could swallow her up. "What's really between you two? "Stella, through all our married years, I've bent over backward for you. Anything you desired, I served it up without question. Why would you betray me like this?" In his mind, it was already a done deal: she was entangled in something shady with the man above. If the guy was angling for a favor from him, Bradly would've recognized him right away. People in Ostralver didn't beat around the bush when they needed something from him. They came direct. The jab landed raw and direct. Bradly blinked, frozen for a beat as a flicker of alarm shot through his eyes. Chapter 4 Don't Know You'd Come Bradly said, "I'm sorry, Stella. I didn't mean it like that. I had no right getting jealous over you and some stranger. It's all on me." Bradly's eyes reddened. "But honestly, there's nothing going on between Shanna and me. I just brought her along as a thank-you. Can you let this slide?" Seeing his cue, Shanna ducked her head meekly, her voice catching. "That's right, Mrs. Woodard. I've been bending over backward to keep my distance from Mr. Woodard so you wouldn't get the wrong impression. "I'm not asking for the world, just a decent birthday gift. I didn't grow up with your advantages; you've had everything handed to you and even snagged a catch like Mr. Woodard. Can't I at least pick out something for myself?" "Just a gift, huh?" Stella closed in on her, one step at a time. "Ms. Erickson, I've never given a damn about this 'gift' you're going on about. What gets under my skin is you, a Woodard Group employee, crossing lines you have no business crossing." As they drew closer, Bradly instinctively stepped in front of Shanna, his voice soft and coaxing. "Stella, if it's bugging you this much, I'll transfer her to a branch office once the auction's over. "But for now, cut me some slack. Let Shanna have the bracelet. When we get home, name your price on anything, and it's yours." Shanna bobbed her head in agreement, tears glistening on her lashes as she pleaded, "Stella, I really adore this bracelet. You've got it all already. Why go after the one thing I want? "Or is this just because you hate my guts and can't resist taking shots at me?" "What makes you think I'd ever like you?" Stella let out a cold snort. "This belonged to me from the start. Why the hell would I give it up?" She took the bracelet from the attendant with casual ease, her smile sharp but empty. "Ms. Erickson, know your place." Her refusal to budge finally wore through Bradly's patience, erasing every bit of softness from his face. "Stella, do you have to humiliate me like this in front of everyone? Where does that leave my dignity? "It's just a crappy old bracelet. Am I really worth less to you than some trinket?" He said it with such conviction, as if he'd wiped from his memory the solemn vow he'd made when proposing: that he'd hunt down every single one of her mother's sold-off keepsakes, no matter what. Stella's hand flew up, delivering a resounding slap across his cheek. The sharp crack rang out, pulling shocked stares from every corner of the room. Bradly's head snapped sideways, his face livid as he fixed her with a glare, his words hissing through clenched teeth. "Stella, drop the drama already. Have I pampered you too much these days, turning you into this unreasonable nightmare?" Stella reined in her temper, keeping her tone even. "Bradly, you better not live to regret today." Without another word, she turned and walked out, not sparing a backward glance. As her figure receded, Shanna gently touched the angry red mark on Bradly's cheek, her voice full of worry. "Mr. Woodard, are you okay? "Stella's got no boundaries. How could she hit you with all these people watching?" Bradly swatted her hand aside, his nails digging into his palm as he stared after her retreating path. "I've spoiled her rotten, letting her forget that everything she has comes from me." Shanna peeked at his changing expression, testing the waters. "Mr. Woodard, about the bracelet..." Bradly rubbed his throbbing cheek, pulled a bank card from his pocket, and handed it over. "1.7 million dollars on there. Buy whatever catches your eye." Box 217, Stella rapped on the door, eager to thank the mystery bidder face-to-face. Silence. She caught a server walking by. "Excuse me, any idea where the gentleman from this box headed?" "He slipped out right after nabbing the last item," the server said. Disappointment flashed in her eyes, but Stella pressed on, "Do you know who he was?" The server gave her a regretful smile. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard, we're not allowed to spill on our VIPs. Don't make this harder for us." Catching herself, Stella moved out of the way. "Thanks all the same." By the time she made it home from the auction, an hour had ticked by. Stella went straight up to the study, fired up the computer, and dove into the assets registered under her and Bradly's names. After tallying up the numbers, she snatched her phone, found lawyer Rubin Cobb's contact, and hit dial. She said, "I've sorted out the asset division documents for me and Bradly and sent them over. I need you to handle the property split by tomorrow." Rubin quickly received the files and nodded respectfully. "Of course, Mrs. Woodard. I'll get right on it." Stella stared intently at her computer screen, her grip tightening on the mouse. "If Bradly's committed bigamy, how should our assets be divided?" "Generally, any property the bigamous party gained through the bigamy can be claimed back by the other spouse," Rubin replied matter-of-factly. Half of Bradly's current wealth had come from Stella's investments to support his career early on. Her expression darkened, and she promptly forwarded the marriage license between him and Shanna. "Rubin, please use every legal avenue to recover my half of the assets." After hanging up, Stella slumped back in her chair, utterly drained physically and emotionally. She closed her eyes slowly, but sleep was nowhere in sight. Bradly would never agree to a divorce. Until she had everything locked down, she couldn't let on that anything was amiss. Just then, the study door was kicked open from the outside. Bradly flung his jacket onto the desk and yanked Stella up from her seat in front of the computer. "Do you realize that because of your little outburst, I've become a laughingstock in our circles? "What exactly do you want? Are you still obsessing over what happened back then?" Stella opened her eyes slowly, her gaze settling calmly on Bradly, but she remained silent. A fire raged in Bradly's chest, intensifying by the second, and he couldn't hold back his fury any longer. "Since we got married, have I ever done anything to wrong you? I come home right on time every night after work, I always fill you in on any business dinners, and if there's even a hint of a woman involved, I skip them entirely! I've bent over backward, and it's still not good enough for you?" He remembered every detail crystal clear. In his mind, these were the sacrifices he'd made to marry her. Stella suddenly found the whole thing absurd. She couldn't bear to look at him anymore, so she stood up and walked straight out of the study without a backward glance. Behind her, Bradly's voice echoed heavily. "Stella, no matter what you think, my conscience is clear." It felt like Stella's heart had been shattered into icy fragments, a sharp, bitter pain surging through her. Her mind buzzed, and for a moment, all she could hear was that phrase repeating over and over. She thought, 'My conscience is clear? So, in his eyes, everything he's done is perfectly justifiable.' The next morning, when Stella woke up, Bradly was already gone. On the table sat the breakfast he'd prepared, tailored exactly to her tastes. Stella pressed her lips together, her feelings a complicated tangle. They'd ended things on a sour note last night, yet Bradly had still made her breakfast this morning. But this was the same man who'd lied to her for years. No matter what, it was time to end things with Bradly. She didn't touch the food and headed straight to the office. These past few years, she'd stayed out of Bradly's business dealings. A lot of her old financial records were outdated now, and she needed the latest reports. The secretary looked startled when she saw her, then managed to say, "Mrs. Woodard, are you here to see Mr. Woodard?" "No." Stella replied evenly. "Send the finance manager in to see me." Her shares were second only to Bradly's, giving her full access to every aspect of the company. The secretary hesitated briefly before nodding. Stella noticed her immediately turning to make a phone call, probably alerting Bradly. Stella didn't intervene; let her. She settled into the finance office, sipping her coffee absentmindedly while flipping through magazines on the shelf. Most were glossy entertainment rags, mixed in with novels and comics. Stella frowned, only now picking up on the details: the desk was covered in a pink plaid mat, cluttered with adorable plush toys. The standout pair was a set of couple dolls, their outfits emblazoned with the letters W and E. It hit Stella suddenly what that meant, and just then, the door behind her swung open. Shanna rushed in. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard." She was clutching a cup of coffee as she apologized. "I had no idea you'd drop by like this..." Chapter 5 All For Milford Stella arched an eyebrow as she looked her over. "So you're the finance manager?" Shanna nodded with a quick smile. "That's me. If you need anything at all, just say the word. Bradly, well, Mr. Woodard is tied up in a meeting right now. But don't worry, I'll make sure to relay whatever message you have." Stella let out a soft laugh. "No need for that." She regarded Shanna with clear curiosity. "I'm not looking for Bradly. I'm here to see you." Shanna's smile faltered for a moment before she recovered, her tone turning gentle. "Mrs. Woodard, I get that you're still bothered by what went down at the auction last night, but there's no reason to be so worked up about my connection to Mr. Woodard. After all..." She raised her hand, the elegant diamond ring on her finger glinting under the light, perfectly complementing her bashful grin. "I'm already married, and things are great between me and my husband." Stella's eyes locked on the ring, her breath hitching just for an instant. It was ridiculous. In this whole messed-up situation, she was the one playing the role of the mistress. The ring was an exact match for the one Bradly had given her during his proposal. But within seconds, Stella averted her gaze. "It's a lovely ring, but you're mistaken." She spoke unhurriedly, "I'm just here to grab the latest financial report from you. That's all." Stella caught the sour shift in Shanna's expression and smiled to herself. "Seems like you're the one on edge here, Ms. Erickson." Shanna's face transformed completely, that smug spark in her eyes snuffed out. She bit her lip, unable to find words for a long beat. Stella watched her with unruffled poise. "Do I need to repeat my request, Ms. Erickson?" The words had barely left her mouth when Bradly burst in, his expression clouding over at the sight. "Stella, wasn't the scene from last night enough?" His voice was laced with ice. "How long are you planning to drag this out? I've told you already. There's nothing going on between me and Shanna. If you don't believe me..." Stella interrupted him mid-sentence, "Oh, I believe you. Absolutely." A faint smirk tugged at her lips, though her eyes remained frosty as they settled on Shanna. "After all, Ms. Erickson's already married. She just mentioned it herself." The statement landed like a bomb. Shanna's face drained of color, and Bradly's followed suit. He shot her a withering glare. Tears sprang to Shanna's eyes in an instant. Stella had no interest in watching the drama unfold any further. She said evenly, "I'm here for this year's financials. I hold forty percent of the company. Surely I can access that, right?" Bradly seemed to snap back to reality, nodding hastily. "Of course you can." He barked orders at the secretary to fetch it immediately, all the while stealing wary glances at her face. Once he confirmed she wasn't giving anything away, he exhaled almost imperceptibly in relief. He said, "Stella, what's with the sudden interest? You've never bothered with company matters before." Stella answered coolly, "After the account freeze last night, I decided it's smarter to set up a separate one." Bradly's expression froze again. "Stella..." The secretary returned promptly with the report. Stella brushed Bradly aside, skimmed through it quickly, and was heading for the door when he caught her by the wrist. He said, "Stella, about the family dinner tonight, are you coming home with me?" His tone was pleading, like he needed her answer to reassure himself that she hadn't caught on to anything fishy. Stella didn't look back, just replying calmly, "Sure." Bradly's face lit up. "Great, I'll swing by after work to pick you up." Stella dropped her gaze, masking the cool detachment in her eyes. She'd only agreed to head back to the family estate for one specific reason. The marriage license from when she and Bradly had tied the knot was a phony, but he'd made a whole production out of stashing it away at the house, claiming it had to be kept secure. Nothing could serve as stronger proof. Once she got her hands on it, his bigamy would be ironclad. Stella didn't bother waiting for Bradly; she hailed a cab and got there ahead of time. She'd figured it was just a standard family gathering, but she was caught off guard by the full turnout. Bradly's parents, fresh from their overseas vacation last week, were back, and even the distant relatives from the Woodard family's side branches had shown up en masse. "Stella, dear." As she walked in, Nadine Woodard peered over her shoulder. "Bradly didn't come with you?" Stella answered evenly, "He'll be along shortly." Nadine clicked her tongue, her irritation obvious. "On an important occasion like this, letting someone from outside the family arrive solo, what's got into him?" Stella's brow furrowed just a touch. She and Bradly had been engaged since childhood, but after her mother's passing, the Daniels family's status had tanked while the Woodard family kept climbing. That was when Nadine started pushing to scrap the arrangement, and she'd mentioned it more than a few times. But Chuck Woodard was upright and principled, flat-out refusing to play the social-climbing game. With Bradly dead set on marrying her and no one else, Nadine had reluctantly given in, though she made her resentment clear. Even after the marriage, she never passed up an opportunity to give Stella the cold shoulder. She was about to add something else when the butler rushed in and murmured, "He's here." Nadine promptly dropped the subject with Stella and jumped to her feet, the extended family hustling out right behind her to welcome the arrivals. The level of pomp surprised Stella. The Woodard family was already at the top of Ostralver's social elite. For them to pull out all the stops like this... Standing at the edge of the group, Stella glanced up and saw a black Maybach rolling up to the front of the estate. Someone hurried forward to open the door respectfully, and a tall, imposing figure stepped out unhurriedly. The man wore a sleek black suit, his chiseled features sharp, eyes as midnight, radiating a fierce intensity. Every gesture exuded a natural poise and authority that made it tough to hold his stare. The crowd swarmed forward in a rush, but he stayed cool and detached the whole time, his stunningly handsome face as impassive as carved ice, showing zero emotion. Then, as if picking up on something, he looked up toward Stella. Their eyes locked unexpectedly, sending her heart pounding. It was Milford Woodard, Bradly's brother. He'd returned to the country. Though they were brothers in name, Milford wasn't all that tight with the family. He'd headed overseas young and had spent years growing the business abroad. His father Edward Woodard was a total lightweight, good only at spending cash, not earning it. His grandpa Chuck had the smarts and drive, but age was catching up, leaving him unable to manage it all. Real power over the Woodard family had shifted to Milford ages ago. Stella let out a quiet breath. She thought, 'That explains the big crowd today. They've all turned out for Milford.' Chapter 6 Need Help? Stella lingered in the corner of the living room, watching the relatives descend like a swarm of locusts, all scrambling to surround Milford. Bradly stood next to Nadine, flashing a polished smile as he greeted, "Hey, Milford." The uncles who'd been buttering up Bradly just a minute ago quickly switched gears, beaming with over-the-top enthusiasm as they stepped up to say hello. "Milford, what prompted the sudden return?" "Milford, I hear you're in the middle of acquiring a domestic company? You're just getting more impressive by the day." "Come on inside, take a seat. We've got some top-shelf coffee." Bradly caught the stark contrast in the uncles' warmth, his smile fading briefly before he pulled it together and led the way forward. Stella quietly eyed the tall, strikingly handsome Milford striding into the living room like the star of the show, instinctively edging back a step. Now fully pushed to the fringes of the crowd, she shifted aside to let the trailing group pass, doing everything she could to blend into the wallpaper. Milford approached steadily. Unlike Bradly's flashy, outgoing vibe, he had a more brooding, aloof kind of handsomeness, like a pine tree blanketed in snow, regal and intimidating. He acknowledged the flattery around him with simple nods, his eyes scanning the room casually, subtly taking stock of everyone there. Until his gaze swept over Stella again, and he came to an abrupt halt. He paused, causing Bradly to stop too. "Something wrong, Milford?" Milford didn't respond, his steady gaze fixed on Stella. It was only a look, but it jolted her to her core. She felt an odd sense of being claimed, uninvited. Yet she'd barely crossed paths with Milford before. Bradly and the others traced his stare, his eyebrow quirking up. "Stella, come say hi to Big Milford." Stella started to step forward, but Milford beat her to it, walking straight toward her. Bradly and the rest exchanged surprised glances. So far, everyone had been approaching Milford. He hadn't initiated with a soul. Milford's deep eyes gave nothing away. "Stella?" Her breath hitched, like a faint breeze had brushed her ear. She hadn't anticipated him coming over to chat. It had been years, and they'd only met once or twice, but he still remembered her. Stella nodded. "Milford, it's been ages—" Before she could finish, Milford held out his hand. The move was so casual, so natural. Out of pure reflex and politeness, Stella extended hers, their palms connecting. In that brief clasp, she felt him squeeze gently, his thumb settling on her fingers and grazing them with a warm intensity. Milford released after just a second. Suddenly, Bradly sidled up, drawing Stella into his side with an arm around her waist, lacing his fingers through her left hand. He said, "Milford, how long are you in town this time? Stella and I can take you out to dinner one of these days." Milford took in their cozy pose, his glance dropping to their intertwined hands. "About a month." The words had barely left his mouth when Chuck came down the stairs, leaning on the butler for support. Milford headed over to talk with him. Not long after, the kitchen called that the party was ready. Stella trailed Bradly to their seats on the left side of the main table. Everyone filed in and sat. As the eldest branch, the two Woodard brothers took priority. Chuck claimed the head of the main table, with Nadine and Milford next in line. Stella and Bradly fell further down the order, landing her right across from Milford on the diagonal. The family feast got underway, with everyone firing questions at Milford about what he'd been up to lately. Stella kept her head down, nibbling at her food while catching bits of the conversation. Zrester bigwig, major stakeholder in Wonder Group, founder of that financial exchange and the smart transportation AI... Milford's credentials were endless and mind-blowing. She thought back to that Zrester party invite list she'd snagged years ago. Milford was third from the top, while she languished at the bottom. In all these years, she'd had next to no interaction with him. Right after the wedding, this mysterious Milford had only shown up once. He dropped off a gift and vanished. In just a handful of years, Milford had climbed to the pinnacle of Zrester's power players. His talent was obvious. Before long, the family party wound down, and folks scattered to grab desserts. Still hung up on that marriage license, Stella excused herself to head upstairs for a coat change. Bradly was itching to chat with Milford, his gaze fixed that way as he muttered distractedly, "Yeah, go on up." Stella wasted no time hustling upstairs. With the crowd milling about downstairs, she slipped to the third floor of the villa and nudged open Bradly's bedroom door. There it was: the glaring marriage license perched right on top of the nightstand, framed, flanked by their wedding portrait. As she stepped closer, memories of Bradly's cozy moments with Shanna flooded her brain, her nails digging slowly into her palm. That license seared her eyes, like it was sneering at her gullibility. She never should've caved, never should've handed Bradly a second shot. It just went to show that people's hearts circled back for seconds. Disgust flickered in her eyes as she hauled the desk's computer chair over, the kind with wheels and a swivel, shaky at best. She climbed onto it, planting one foot on the bed for stability, teetering just enough to hold steady. Stella hiked up her pearl-white knee-length dress a bit and stretched upward slowly. Fingers extended to the max, but she was still a couple inches shy. She rose onto her tiptoes, straining, but no dice. Frowning from her perch, she scanned around and snagged a book from beside the cabinet. As she leaned down, footsteps suddenly echoed outside the door. Fast, but measured. A man's, for sure. Her pulse spiked. She clutched the table, scrambling to hop down, but, perfect timing, her other sleeve caught on the cabinet's edge. She tugged frantically to break free, but it was too late to descend. The door flew open out of nowhere. Stella went rigid, her knees giving way as she toppled backward off the chair. A quick yelp escaped her, but the expected crash never hit. A firm hand latched precisely onto her thigh, another banding around her waist, hauling her into a solid hold and planting her feet firmly on the floor. She slammed into a warm, toned chest, a crisp, grounding sandalwood aroma enveloping her, not Bradly's scent. Stella glanced up, nearly clipping the guy's chin. Milford let go right away, backing off a step to give her space. Her cheeks burned, the thigh he'd gripped feeling like it was on fire. Mortified and frozen, she stammered, "Th-thanks." Milford stayed composed, his eyes skimming her flushed face and the pinkened patch of skin on her thigh from his hold. His Adam's apple dipped subtly. "Didn't realize you were in here. My bad." Stella shook her head, even more flustered. She was the one imposing on him. Milford flicked a glance upward. "Need some help?" She looked too. Up top, the marriage license screamed for attention. Chapter 7 Don't Let Me Hate You Stella just came out with it. "I want to get the marriage license down." Milford hesitated for a beat, without probing why she needed it, and slid the chair out of the way. Tall and long-limbed, he barely had to tip up on his toes to snag it effortlessly. Milford skimmed the lettering on the license, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes before the faintest quirk tugged at his lips, almost undetectable. He passed it over to Stella. "Ah, I see." She missed the words, taking it with a soft murmur: "Thanks, Milford." Her palms were slick with sweat now, but holding the certificate still sent an icy shiver through her. Those bold letters were a brutal reminder. This whole marriage had been one big joke. From beginning to end, Bradly's grand performance of undying love had always had a third wheel in the shadows. Milford dropped his gaze. Towering over her, all he could make out was the neat swirl at the top of her head, round and oddly appealing. Those slim, pale hands gripped the certificate like a vise, completely bloodless. Milford asked offhandedly, "So, what's the marriage license for?" "Oh, I just want to bring it home and store it there," Stella shot back, pulling an excuse out of thin air. Milford's stare felt like it enveloped her, the heat of it almost scorching, though he kept his hands to himself. Then he casually adjusted his cufflinks and turned to go. Stella let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, sagging against the cool cabinet. Her thigh still tingled with warmth from his grip; she quickly smoothed her skirt down, tucked the license into her bag, and only left the room once everything looked undisturbed. Bradly was still out in the back garden, deep in conversation. Stella kept her face neutral, strolling over to stand at his side. A few relatives were chatting with him. "Hey, word is Milford actually got back a couple days ago, but only tipped us off today." Bradly looked taken aback. "I thought he was flying in today?" "Nope, sounds like he hit up some auction. I only heard bits and pieces, supposedly the other night at the Empire Auction House." "He must not have gone. I was there that evening too, and I didn't see him anywhere," Bradly said, frowning in confusion. Stella's eyelashes flickered subtly, but she played it cool. Out of nowhere, her mind jumped back to that enigmatic bidder in suite 217. She wondered, 'Could Milford be the mystery guest who got the bracelet for me?' She shoved the thought down as soon as it surfaced. They'd only crossed paths once, total strangers really, connected by the flimsiest in-law tie. No matter how you sliced it, Milford wouldn't stick his neck out for her. Just like Bradly said, he hadn't caught wind of anything, so it couldn't be Milford. Stella let it go. After some more mingling, the group started to break up. Bradly steered her over to bid farewell to Milford. "Mom, Milford, we're taking off. Let's set up a family dinner soon when things settle." Milford slouched back in his chair with effortless nonchalance and gave a nod. "I'm knee-deep in an acquisition, no hurry on the get-together. But you..." He lifted his head, his expression sharpening. "Keep your life on the straight and narrow. Don't veer off track." The edge of warning in his voice was crystal clear. Bradly had grown up overshadowed by Milford; he went rigid but brushed it off casually. "Come on, everything's good. My company's running smooth as ever. If you're skeptical, drop by anytime and pore over the financials—knock yourself out." "It's not just about the company," Milford said softly, eyes down as he savored a sip of coffee. Stella couldn't help stealing a glance at him, and in that instant, a ridiculous idea struck her. From what Bradly had mentioned, Milford was abroad most of the time but still had the inside scoop on everything back home. She wondered, 'Does he know about the shady stuff Bradly is up to on the sly?' "Milford, I hear you. I'll make sure to nurture my marriage with Stella, our whole life together." Bradly grinned, threading his fingers through Stella's. Milford's gaze lingered on their joined hands for a second before drifting away, sealed with a subtle nod. Stella had no desire for any more close contact with Bradly, so she subtly shook his hand free without thinking. A split second later, his disbelieving stare locked onto her face, and he tried to grab her again. She'd known her move would humiliate him in the moment, so she didn't bother saying goodbye to Milford. She just turned and walked out ahead. Once they slid into the car, Bradly shed his polite, deferential mask from earlier, reverting to his entitled rich-kid swagger. He tugged his tie loose, a flicker of annoyance pinching his brows. "Always playing the big-brother card to chew me out, same crap since we were little. "So what if he's crushing it overseas? I'm holding my own just fine back home. Who in Ostralver would even think about messing with me?" Bradly fished out a menthol cigarette on autopilot, ready to light up, but he caught himself after glancing at Stella and shoved it back. He said, "All these years, folks have been whispering, or saying it straight to my face, that my company's thriving because of his pull. Like he's behind every damn thing. "And you? You flat-out refused to let me hold your hand back there. Trying to make me look like an idiot in front of him?" His expression iced over, the edge in his voice impossible to miss. Stella's frown deepened as she took it in. Even without knowing Milford all that well, she understood that Bradly's cocky antics in Ostralver, brushing people off like they were nothing, had always been propped up by Milford's clout. She'd assumed the brothers were tight, but clearly Bradly's respect was just for show; underneath, his grudge against Milford simmered deep. She could overlook a lot, but with things the way they were now, there was zero point in him putting on that phony hand-holding act. Stella gripped her bag, the one with the marriage license inside, and couldn't bite her tongue. "We haven't held hands in forever. It feels off to me." The car went dead quiet. She was right. Their physical closeness had dwindled so much that even she couldn't pinpoint the last time. Bradly's brow creased, and he snapped the cigarette filter clean off between his fingers. "What was that?" Stella met his eyes steadily. "From here on out, let's skip the pointless touchy-feely stuff. It just doesn't sit right." She hadn't even finished when the brakes screeched harshly. The car lurched to a halt on the empty shoulder of the road. Stella almost smacked into the window from the force, her pulse hammering as she barked, "Are you out of your mind?" Bradly loomed over her, fingers digging into her chin, irritation boiling in his glare. "Stella, do you have any idea what you're saying?" The pinch stung like crazy, and the absurdity of it all hit her as she wrestled to shove him off. "Is it not true? When's the last time we even held hands. Can you remember?" Bradly's gaze turned stormy, like she'd struck a raw spot. "I bet you're hung up on Milford, just like that girl from the second branch. That's why you pulled away in front of him. You're trying to cut ties with me?" "Bradly! What the hell are you babbling about?" Anger surged through her as she pushed harder. "Don't you dare pin your gross history on me!" The way the family had orbited Milford like he was the sun had obviously gotten under his skin. The more she resisted, the darker his look grew. Abruptly, he leaned in and smashed his mouth against hers. Stella's eyes flew wide, her head whipping aside to evade as she hammered at his shoulders with everything she had. He'd locked lips with Shanna god knows how often. The thought turned her stomach, so she clamped down and bit him hard. Bradly yelped in pain, jerking back as the fog cleared and he clocked what he'd just done, regret flashing across his face. Blood dotted his lip, but he brushed it off, lunging to wrap her in his arms. "I'm sorry, Stella, baby, I'm so sorry. I screwed up; it was a stupid impulse..." Drained of energy, Stella sagged into the passenger seat, letting him hold her while a barren wave of emptiness and revulsion washed over her. The hug she'd once melted into now repulsed her to her core. "Get off me." Her voice came out rough and scratchy. "Bradly, don't push me to hating you."
Chapter 1 Don't Want Him Anymore "I'm sorry, ma'am." On the other end of the line, the insurance customer service rep said coolly, "After checking our records, the car owner, Mr. Woodard, is indeed married, but the spouse listed here isn't you." Stella Daniels had gotten into a car accident on her way to the Woodard Group headquarters. She couldn't get through to Bradly Woodard on his phone, so she had no choice but to call the insurance company. The car was registered in Bradly's name, but as his wife, she should be able to process the claim too. "When Mr. Woodard picked up the car, he came with his wife and provided the original marriage license. Her last name is Erickson, and her full name is Shanna Erickson," the rep said. It hit Stella like a slap in the face. Dizziness washed over her in waves, leaving her whole body shaking uncontrollably. She and Bradly had been childhood sweethearts. Their families were old friends, and everyone in Ostralver's high society knew how clingy he was with her. Bradly couldn't stand being apart from her even for a single day. Three years ago, when Stella headed abroad for her studies, Bradly had the plane stopped just for her. During her three years in Ensland, he expanded his business overseas to make it easier to look after her. Sixteen thousand miles apart, he'd still fly across the ocean every week to see her. The year she came down with a severe lung illness and nearly didn't pull through, she spent a week in intensive care. Bradly ignored the infection risks and stayed right by her side, sliding a ring onto her finger. He said, "If anything happens to you, I'll go with you. We'll be husband and wife in the next life too." For Bradly's sake, she turned down her mentor's offer to stay on in the lab and headed back home. Brimming with excitement, she went to find him, planning to surprise him. But when she pushed open the door to the CEO's office, she saw a slender, pretty woman straddling his lap. The woman's innocent face tilted upward, her voice whiny and aggrieved. "Mr. Woodard, what happens to me now that Stella is back?" Bradly sat in his executive chair, his tall frame looming over her. A flash of ruthlessness crossed his stern features. "You? You're just her stand-in. Don't forget your place." He lifted his hand, pinching her delicate chin with a sneer. "Barely a three-out-of-ten resemblance, and you think you can compare to her?" Stella was still clutching the gift she'd prepared for him. With a loud "bang," it dropped to the floor, finally breaking the scene in the office. Bradly's face drained of color as he shoved the woman off and jumped to his feet. That woman was Shanna. After Stella caught them in the act, Bradly fired Shanna on the spot and pulled out all the stops to win her back. Bradly, the arrogant prince of Ostralver's elite circles, humbled himself to the dust before her, begging her to give him another chance. Any project she set her sights on, he'd drop without a second thought. He stood in the pouring rain outside her building for over a week, just for a glimpse of her. He said, "Stella, I'm not asking you to forgive me. At least let me explain. "I only ever saw Shanna as your replacement. You've been gone abroad for so long; I missed you terribly. I swear, I just kept her around. Nothing more ever happened between us. "That time you walked in, I'd had too much to drink, and she deliberately tempted me. I lost control for a moment... "I've already let her go, and she won't show up in our lives again. Stella, please, come back to me." Back then, Stella couldn't stand even the slightest betrayal. She insisted on breaking off the engagement. Until that one incident. She was kidnapped by a business rival. The kidnappers reneged on the deal, tied her up in an abandoned factory, and set the place ablaze. Bradly charged into the flames without a second thought to rescue her, shielding her from a collapsing steel beam. He ended up gravely injured, confined to bed for nearly six months. By risking his life, Bradly finally melted her resolve. Once he was out of the hospital, she accepted his proposal, and they threw a lavish wedding. In the two years since they tied the knot, he'd treated her just as devotedly as ever, with zero scandals. He even imposed a strict curfew on himself, heading home right on time every day. Even on out-of-town business trips, he'd video call her constantly. His partners would tease him about being henpecked. He never denied it. Instead, he'd grin proudly and say, "A real man takes care of his family." Memories rushed through Stella's mind like a whirlwind, every past moment flashing by in a blur. Her legs buckled, and she dropped to her knees, burying her face in her hands. She couldn't figure out which Bradly was the real one anymore. A bitter, mocking gleam sparked in her eyes. She thought, 'How absurd.' She'd been his wife for two years, and only now was she learning that even their marriage license had been a sham. Stella scrubbed her face hard, her bangs already soaked with cold sweat. She ignored the other driver's furious yelling and calmly dialed the police. They showed up fast. After finishing her statement, Stella left the station under a sky that had gone completely dark. Her phone lit up with several missed calls from Bradly. When she hadn't answered, he'd sent texts instead. Bradly: [Babe, I was tied up in a key meeting this afternoon. Signal jammers were on, so I missed your call. You okay?] Bradly: [I've got a client dinner tonight, so I'll be late getting home. I double-checked: no women involved, so no need to worry.] Bradly: [Head to bed early. Don't wait up. Love you.] Stella stared at the screen, a sharp wave of irony twisting in her gut. Bradly didn't stagger in until the wee hours. He reeked of alcohol, which almost, but not quite, masked the subtle whiff of perfume on him. "Honey..." He could barely keep his balance, stumbling over to wrap his arms around her through the blanket. "I missed you so damn much..." Stella didn't say a word. Only once he was dead to the world did she sit up quietly and unlock his phone with his fingerprint. The thing was squeaky clean, no suspicious traces at all. His contacts were mostly buddies and business folks, with hers pinned at the top as "Darling Wife." Flawlessly tidy, just like their sham of a marriage. Stella hooked the phone up to her computer, and it didn't take long to uncover his second WhatsApp account. She signed in, and right away, messages popped up from a profile with a cute pink kitten avatar, labeled "Baby." Shanna: [Bradly, thanks for tonight. Without you, I wouldn't have known what to do.] Shanna: [I've always thought meeting you was the luckiest thing that's ever happened to me. I won't intrude on your life. As long as you swing by to see me once in a while, that's enough to make me happy.] Stella scrolled back through the history. She'd suspected as much, but seeing it all laid out still hit her like a punch to the chest, leaving her breathless. They chatted nearly every day. Shanna never missed a good morning message, and Bradly's replies had shifted over time, from total silence at first, to sporadic responses, and now to answering every single one. A chill spread through her. Stella clutched the phone tighter, knowing she should quit while she was ahead but unable to stop herself from digging deeper. Shanna: [Bradly, sorry, I had a few drinks and lost it for a bit. Doc says I'm okay now, so don't stress.] Shanna: [Mrs. Woodard's birthday bash is important. Go enjoy it with her. I'll be fine.] Stella squeezed her eyes shut as the memory came rushing back. Her birthday. Bradly had spent over a month planning it down to the last detail, but that day, he was totally distracted. Hell, he almost cut his own hand while slicing the cake. When she'd asked what was up, he'd brushed it off as work drama, told her not to worry, then pulled her into a soft embrace and encouraged her to blow out the candles and make a wish. It all made sense now, as she stared at this chat log. That same day, Shanna had tried to kill herself by slashing her wrists and ended up in the ER. A sour bitterness flooded her chest like a rising tide. In those brief seconds when she'd closed her eyes to wish, she wondered, 'Was he agonizing over Shanna in the hospital, or picturing endless years together with her?' Stella knew she didn't need an answer to that anymore. She gently placed the phone back and looked down at Bradly, fast asleep beside her. She'd known him since she was four, and for the twenty years that followed, she'd truly believed his love was hers alone, irreplaceable. But now she saw it for what it was: just cheap free samples at a store, handed out to anyone who walked by. If that was all it amounted to, she was done with it. Chapter 2 Bid Against Her The next day, Stella woke to find Bradly busy in the kitchen, his broad shoulders narrowing to a slim waist, his tall, lean build moving with purpose. The sight hit her hard, a dull ache tightening in her chest. Bradly had learned to cook entirely for her sake. She still remembered that turbulent period when the Woodard Group was in crisis. His rivals had targeted her, paying off a servant to poison her food. She'd been unconscious for three full days. When she finally woke, Bradly was there, his eyes red-rimmed and veined with exhaustion, gripping her hand like a lifeline. The instant she stirred, the imposing Bradly crumbled forward, enveloping her in a hug as scalding tears fell onto her skin. From then on, Bradly threw himself into cooking lessons, taking charge of all her meals. In less than a month, he'd gone from a spoiled elite who couldn't distinguish spices to turning out dishes worthy of a Michelin chef. Just then, his phone rang. Stella glanced at it but made no move to answer. Bradly darted out of the kitchen, apron still on, grabbing the phone with a barely concealed flash of anxiety. Stella pretended not to notice and went to wash up. When she came back, the table was set with breakfast, and he was slipping into his suit jacket from the coat rack. Seeing her, he said gently, "There's an emergency at work. I have to run. Sorry I can't join you for breakfast." Stella murmured, "Sure, work comes first." He was clearly in a hurry, because he didn't pick up on the new edge of cool distance in her tone and rushed out. She stared blankly after him until he was gone, then dumped the entire spread into the trash. Then she picked up her phone and dialed a number. "That offer you made before? I'm on board." The person on the other end erupted in delight, chattering away before shifting to broken Andosa Language. "Stella, why the sudden change of heart? I've bugged you about this so many times, and you always said you were married now and focusing on family." A mocking glint flickered in Stella's eyes. She thought, 'Married? This so-called marriage has been dead on arrival.' The caller was her former mentor from her overseas studies. He'd reached out lately, hoping she'd join his new team and spearhead a major project. At the time, she'd kept saying no out of loyalty to Bradly. Now, she only wished she'd seen through the absurd joke of their marriage earlier. After the call, she contacted immigration to schedule a passport renewal. It would take about a week. But before heading out, she had one loose end to tie up. That evening, Stella showed up at a private auction at the Cloud Hotel. She was after one of her mother's keepsakes. Her mom had died when she was eight, and soon after, the Daniels family had liquidated her wedding gift. Stella had been hunting down the items ever since. Over the years, she'd only reclaimed a few. Tonight's auction featured a bracelet from that collection, one her mother had picked up on a trip to Ijance. It was utterly unique, irreplaceable. Whatever it took, she was getting it back. Stella settled into her seat just as the auction was about to start. She was flipping through the catalog when Bradly's voice floated over. "Didn't I already pick out that royal blue sapphire set for you? Not good enough?" His voice carried that familiar tenderness. Shanna linked her arm with his, pouting playfully. "Your taste sucks! I want to pick my own birthday gift." Stella watched them quietly until Bradly threaded through the guests and their gazes collided by chance. The color drained from his face. On pure reflex, he jerked his arm away from Shanna. "Stella." He strode over quickly. "I tried calling you a few times, but you didn't answer. Were you planning to surprise me?" Even though he tried to play it cool, she could still catch that subtle hint of panic in his expression. Stella didn't bother calling him on it, replying evenly, "My phone was on silent. I didn't hear it." Bradly visibly relaxed, casually taking her hand in his with a look of concern. "Your hands are like ice. Didn't I warn you about the cold snap today? You're always putting style over staying warm. If you catch a chill, you know it'll just kill me." As he talked, he signaled a server for a blanket and draped it snugly around her shoulders. Stella kept a straight face, brushing him off as she looked past him to Shanna, who lingered behind with a scowl. Shanna nibbled her lip, then defiantly dropped into the seat next to Bradly, her gaze simmering with irritation. Bradly leaned closer, dropping his voice to explain, "We just wrapped up a major project at the company, and Shanna pulled her weight big time. Her birthday's around the corner, so I thought I'd treat her to something as a project bonus." He eyed her anxiously. "Stella, you're not mad, right?" Shanna piped up in a soft, vulnerable tone. "Mrs. Woodard, if this upsets you, I'll just go. I don't want to get in the way of you and Mr. Woodard." Stella's mouth quirked into a smile that never touched her eyes. "We're married. A little thing like this? Of course it doesn't bother me." The auction got underway shortly after. Bradly treated Shanna like she was invisible, focusing entirely on Stella. He paged through the catalog, throwing in bids left and right. "Babe, this would look amazing on you." He grinned, tenderly brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his tone warm and intimate. "You'd be gorgeous in it." Stella averted her eyes, but out of the corner of her vision, she saw Shanna discreetly clutching the edge of Bradly's jacket in the dim light. Their gazes locked for a split second in a shared, lingering look. She masked the derision in her own eyes, struck by how absurd it all was. Bradly seemed totally at ease juggling both women, convinced he was keeping things balanced, one with the official status, the other with his undivided public attention. She thought, 'What could be fairer than that?' But Stella had never been interested in that kind of equilibrium. Her world extended far beyond romance. Bradly? He was just a small detour on her path, a misstep she'd own up to. And now, it was time to set things right. "Next up: a string of bracelet. Fine-grained texture, deep aroma that lingers. Starting bid at 170,000 dollars, with increments of at least 20,000 dollars!" The auctioneer's pumped-up voice echoed through the room. Finally, Stella's main target for the evening. Bids flew in fast, the screen flickering with updates as the auctioneer called out, "Number 17 lady at 200,000 dollars! Number 9 gentleman ups it to 260,000 dollars! Going higher?" Once the initial frenzy tapered off, Stella lifted her paddle. "500,000 dollars." She'd doubled the current bid in one go. It was a hefty amount. Sure, the bracelet was top-notch, but it wasn't the auction's highlight. The room went quiet after her call; no one countered. "Fantastic! Number 11 lady at 500,000 dollars! "500,000 dollars once! 500,000 dollars twice!" The auctioneer hoisted his gavel, poised to bring it down. "No more bids? Then 500,000 dollars—" "520,000 dollars," A gentle, hesitant voice interrupted. Shanna shrank against Bradly's side, paddle in hand, murmuring timidly to him, "Is this where I put in the amount?" Chapter 3 You're Dirty Stella frowned and raised her bid. "540,000 dollars." But Shanna was right behind her, countering with, "560,000 dollars." How annoyingly precise, each time, she stuck to the bare minimum, slapping on just 20,000 dollars more than Stella's offer. Shanna turned toward her, her voice dripping with plea. "Stella, you've got plenty of jewelry already. Please, let me have this one. I adore it. "I'm not like you, born with money, everything handed to you on a silver platter. You snap your fingers and get whatever you want. If it goes any higher, I really won't be able to keep up." Stella didn't bother looking at her, just quirking her lips in a thin smile. "Isn't Mr. Woodard covering the cost for you? What are you stressing about?" Shanna's face went a shade paler, but she answered in that soft, demure tone, "Even so, Mr. Woodard earns his money the hard way. If I can save him a bit, I ought to." She was the epitome of considerate and caring. After several more back-and-forth bids, the bracelet's price had soared to 700,000 dollars. Stella let out a chilly scoff and was opening her mouth to up the ante when Bradly beat her to it. He said, "Babe, why don't we just let Shanna take this bracelet?" Stella's fingers curled into a tight fist, her nails biting into her palm. She lifted her gaze, any lingering warmth in her eyes turning to ice. "What did you just say?" Bradly let out a resigned sigh, giving her hand a comforting pat as he murmured gently, "Babe, I already told Shanna she'd get a gift tonight, and she's got her heart set on this one. No need to compete with her. "Plus, I've already snagged you a handful of other pieces. Isn't that plenty?" He said it all lightly, teasingly, as if it were nothing more than a harmless quip. Stella shut her eyes, a nameless sourness creeping along her nerves, coiling around her heart until it felt like she couldn't draw a breath. Given Shanna's modest background, 700,000 dollars was way out of her league. She wouldn't even make the guest list here on her own. The only reason she was in that seat, trading bids blow for blow, was Bradly's backing. His pampering had delivered her straight into Stella's path. Stella whispered, "What if I refuse to back down?" She hoisted her paddle once more, her voice echoing through the room. "1 million dollars." A hush blanketed the hall. The auctioneer clearly picked up on the drama, his delivery faltering. "Number eleven at 1 million dollars. Do I hear higher?" Shanna's eyes welled up, on the verge of tears, as she cast a helpless look at Bradly before tacking on another fifty thousand. "1 million 20 thousand dollars." Stella's features hardened to frost, and she was poised to fire back when the manager bustled over, bending close to murmur, "Mrs. Woodard, apologies. We ran a credit verification on your account, and it's frozen. Got another one we can use?" The words slammed into her like a bolt from the blue, ringing in her ears. She snapped her head toward Bradly, but he'd already looked away. An icy numbness spread through her arms and legs. She though,t 'Of course, it has to be him.' Her primary account was linked with his; besides her, only he could authorize a freeze on her cards. Triumph flickered in Shanna's eyes as she added with a pointed edge, "Well, in that case, Mrs. Woodard, maybe it's time to step aside. You've got so much already. Can't you let me have this one little thing?" Up on stage, the auction rolled on, the display frozen on Shanna's latest bid: 1 million 20 thousand dollars. Shanna could hardly hide her glee, chirping sweetly, "Go on, call it!" But the words had barely left her lips when someone announced he would bid for the lot at any costs right in the second-floor VIP suite. After a momentary silence, the room burst into chaos. "He's declared absolute intent!" Even the auctioneer's expression changed. He'd been in the game for over a decade, but this was his first encounter with such a scenario. He hurriedly called out, "Lot number six goes to the gentleman in box 217, regardless of how high the price goes." Anyone up in those second-floor VIP suites was either swimming in money or held serious sway in Ostralver's upper crust. Stella glanced upward toward the source of the voice, catching only a vague outline behind the draped curtains. Even when she couldn't see his face, the man's crossed-legged posture radiated an unspoken dominance that pressed down on the room. The auctioneer slammed his gavel down with finality, proclaiming, "Congratulations to our esteemed guest in box 217 on winning lot number six! You're now upgraded to black gold status!" Across all of Ostralver's elite scene, fewer than a handful had ever hit black gold level at these events. Stella wondered, 'Just who is this mystery man?' Stella loosened her clenched fist slightly, torn between relief that her mother's heirloom hadn't landed in Shanna's clutches and anxiety over reclaiming it from this unknown figure. No matter what, she'd stop at nothing, pay any price, to bring her mother's possession home. She rose to her feet, intent on marching over to box 217 for a chat, when the attendant who'd just ducked inside reappeared, tray in hand with the bracelet. "What's this? The bidder in 217 having second thoughts?" "Auctions don't do take-backs." "Probably short on funds. I called it. No one's done this here before." As the murmurs swirled, the attendant headed straight for Stella, dipping into a courteous bow with a warm smile. She said, "Mrs. Woodard, the gentleman in box 217 requests that I deliver the bracelet to you as a gift. He wishes for you to follow your true path and for all to unfold as it should." The place erupted in gossip once more, with guests shooting glances her way, some envious, others skeptical, many flat-out stunned. "Isn't that Mrs. Woodard? What's her deal with the upstairs guy?" "Likely just buttering up Mr. Woodard." "Nah, I don't buy it. Out of all the goodies tonight, why zero in on those beads for Mrs. Woodard? Sounds like she's got a real connection there." The buzz filtered through, and Bradly's face turned stone-cold. In a tight, edged voice, he demanded, "Stella, what's the story with you and whoever's in box 217?" Stella held his piercing stare and said flatly, "I have no idea who he is." "!" Bradly jumped up, clamping down on her wrist like a vice. Her soft, fair skin reddened almost instantly under the pressure. Stella winced sharply, jerking her arm back on reflex. "Bradly, have you lost your mind? Haven't you stirred up enough drama for one day?" But he barreled on, blind to her fury, his reddened eyes locked on her as if he could swallow her up. "What's really between you two? "Stella, through all our married years, I've bent over backward for you. Anything you desired, I served it up without question. Why would you betray me like this?" In his mind, it was already a done deal: she was entangled in something shady with the man above. If the guy was angling for a favor from him, Bradly would've recognized him right away. People in Ostralver didn't beat around the bush when they needed something from him. They came direct. The jab landed raw and direct. Bradly blinked, frozen for a beat as a flicker of alarm shot through his eyes. Chapter 4 Don't Know You'd Come Bradly said, "I'm sorry, Stella. I didn't mean it like that. I had no right getting jealous over you and some stranger. It's all on me." Bradly's eyes reddened. "But honestly, there's nothing going on between Shanna and me. I just brought her along as a thank-you. Can you let this slide?" Seeing his cue, Shanna ducked her head meekly, her voice catching. "That's right, Mrs. Woodard. I've been bending over backward to keep my distance from Mr. Woodard so you wouldn't get the wrong impression. "I'm not asking for the world, just a decent birthday gift. I didn't grow up with your advantages; you've had everything handed to you and even snagged a catch like Mr. Woodard. Can't I at least pick out something for myself?" "Just a gift, huh?" Stella closed in on her, one step at a time. "Ms. Erickson, I've never given a damn about this 'gift' you're going on about. What gets under my skin is you, a Woodard Group employee, crossing lines you have no business crossing." As they drew closer, Bradly instinctively stepped in front of Shanna, his voice soft and coaxing. "Stella, if it's bugging you this much, I'll transfer her to a branch office once the auction's over. "But for now, cut me some slack. Let Shanna have the bracelet. When we get home, name your price on anything, and it's yours." Shanna bobbed her head in agreement, tears glistening on her lashes as she pleaded, "Stella, I really adore this bracelet. You've got it all already. Why go after the one thing I want? "Or is this just because you hate my guts and can't resist taking shots at me?" "What makes you think I'd ever like you?" Stella let out a cold snort. "This belonged to me from the start. Why the hell would I give it up?" She took the bracelet from the attendant with casual ease, her smile sharp but empty. "Ms. Erickson, know your place." Her refusal to budge finally wore through Bradly's patience, erasing every bit of softness from his face. "Stella, do you have to humiliate me like this in front of everyone? Where does that leave my dignity? "It's just a crappy old bracelet. Am I really worth less to you than some trinket?" He said it with such conviction, as if he'd wiped from his memory the solemn vow he'd made when proposing: that he'd hunt down every single one of her mother's sold-off keepsakes, no matter what. Stella's hand flew up, delivering a resounding slap across his cheek. The sharp crack rang out, pulling shocked stares from every corner of the room. Bradly's head snapped sideways, his face livid as he fixed her with a glare, his words hissing through clenched teeth. "Stella, drop the drama already. Have I pampered you too much these days, turning you into this unreasonable nightmare?" Stella reined in her temper, keeping her tone even. "Bradly, you better not live to regret today." Without another word, she turned and walked out, not sparing a backward glance. As her figure receded, Shanna gently touched the angry red mark on Bradly's cheek, her voice full of worry. "Mr. Woodard, are you okay? "Stella's got no boundaries. How could she hit you with all these people watching?" Bradly swatted her hand aside, his nails digging into his palm as he stared after her retreating path. "I've spoiled her rotten, letting her forget that everything she has comes from me." Shanna peeked at his changing expression, testing the waters. "Mr. Woodard, about the bracelet..." Bradly rubbed his throbbing cheek, pulled a bank card from his pocket, and handed it over. "1.7 million dollars on there. Buy whatever catches your eye." Box 217, Stella rapped on the door, eager to thank the mystery bidder face-to-face. Silence. She caught a server walking by. "Excuse me, any idea where the gentleman from this box headed?" "He slipped out right after nabbing the last item," the server said. Disappointment flashed in her eyes, but Stella pressed on, "Do you know who he was?" The server gave her a regretful smile. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard, we're not allowed to spill on our VIPs. Don't make this harder for us." Catching herself, Stella moved out of the way. "Thanks all the same." By the time she made it home from the auction, an hour had ticked by. Stella went straight up to the study, fired up the computer, and dove into the assets registered under her and Bradly's names. After tallying up the numbers, she snatched her phone, found lawyer Rubin Cobb's contact, and hit dial. She said, "I've sorted out the asset division documents for me and Bradly and sent them over. I need you to handle the property split by tomorrow." Rubin quickly received the files and nodded respectfully. "Of course, Mrs. Woodard. I'll get right on it." Stella stared intently at her computer screen, her grip tightening on the mouse. "If Bradly's committed bigamy, how should our assets be divided?" "Generally, any property the bigamous party gained through the bigamy can be claimed back by the other spouse," Rubin replied matter-of-factly. Half of Bradly's current wealth had come from Stella's investments to support his career early on. Her expression darkened, and she promptly forwarded the marriage license between him and Shanna. "Rubin, please use every legal avenue to recover my half of the assets." After hanging up, Stella slumped back in her chair, utterly drained physically and emotionally. She closed her eyes slowly, but sleep was nowhere in sight. Bradly would never agree to a divorce. Until she had everything locked down, she couldn't let on that anything was amiss. Just then, the study door was kicked open from the outside. Bradly flung his jacket onto the desk and yanked Stella up from her seat in front of the computer. "Do you realize that because of your little outburst, I've become a laughingstock in our circles? "What exactly do you want? Are you still obsessing over what happened back then?" Stella opened her eyes slowly, her gaze settling calmly on Bradly, but she remained silent. A fire raged in Bradly's chest, intensifying by the second, and he couldn't hold back his fury any longer. "Since we got married, have I ever done anything to wrong you? I come home right on time every night after work, I always fill you in on any business dinners, and if there's even a hint of a woman involved, I skip them entirely! I've bent over backward, and it's still not good enough for you?" He remembered every detail crystal clear. In his mind, these were the sacrifices he'd made to marry her. Stella suddenly found the whole thing absurd. She couldn't bear to look at him anymore, so she stood up and walked straight out of the study without a backward glance. Behind her, Bradly's voice echoed heavily. "Stella, no matter what you think, my conscience is clear." It felt like Stella's heart had been shattered into icy fragments, a sharp, bitter pain surging through her. Her mind buzzed, and for a moment, all she could hear was that phrase repeating over and over. She thought, 'My conscience is clear? So, in his eyes, everything he's done is perfectly justifiable.' The next morning, when Stella woke up, Bradly was already gone. On the table sat the breakfast he'd prepared, tailored exactly to her tastes. Stella pressed her lips together, her feelings a complicated tangle. They'd ended things on a sour note last night, yet Bradly had still made her breakfast this morning. But this was the same man who'd lied to her for years. No matter what, it was time to end things with Bradly. She didn't touch the food and headed straight to the office. These past few years, she'd stayed out of Bradly's business dealings. A lot of her old financial records were outdated now, and she needed the latest reports. The secretary looked startled when she saw her, then managed to say, "Mrs. Woodard, are you here to see Mr. Woodard?" "No." Stella replied evenly. "Send the finance manager in to see me." Her shares were second only to Bradly's, giving her full access to every aspect of the company. The secretary hesitated briefly before nodding. Stella noticed her immediately turning to make a phone call, probably alerting Bradly. Stella didn't intervene; let her. She settled into the finance office, sipping her coffee absentmindedly while flipping through magazines on the shelf. Most were glossy entertainment rags, mixed in with novels and comics. Stella frowned, only now picking up on the details: the desk was covered in a pink plaid mat, cluttered with adorable plush toys. The standout pair was a set of couple dolls, their outfits emblazoned with the letters W and E. It hit Stella suddenly what that meant, and just then, the door behind her swung open. Shanna rushed in. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard." She was clutching a cup of coffee as she apologized. "I had no idea you'd drop by like this..." Chapter 5 All For Milford Stella arched an eyebrow as she looked her over. "So you're the finance manager?" Shanna nodded with a quick smile. "That's me. If you need anything at all, just say the word. Bradly, well, Mr. Woodard is tied up in a meeting right now. But don't worry, I'll make sure to relay whatever message you have." Stella let out a soft laugh. "No need for that." She regarded Shanna with clear curiosity. "I'm not looking for Bradly. I'm here to see you." Shanna's smile faltered for a moment before she recovered, her tone turning gentle. "Mrs. Woodard, I get that you're still bothered by what went down at the auction last night, but there's no reason to be so worked up about my connection to Mr. Woodard. After all..." She raised her hand, the elegant diamond ring on her finger glinting under the light, perfectly complementing her bashful grin. "I'm already married, and things are great between me and my husband." Stella's eyes locked on the ring, her breath hitching just for an instant. It was ridiculous. In this whole messed-up situation, she was the one playing the role of the mistress. The ring was an exact match for the one Bradly had given her during his proposal. But within seconds, Stella averted her gaze. "It's a lovely ring, but you're mistaken." She spoke unhurriedly, "I'm just here to grab the latest financial report from you. That's all." Stella caught the sour shift in Shanna's expression and smiled to herself. "Seems like you're the one on edge here, Ms. Erickson." Shanna's face transformed completely, that smug spark in her eyes snuffed out. She bit her lip, unable to find words for a long beat. Stella watched her with unruffled poise. "Do I need to repeat my request, Ms. Erickson?" The words had barely left her mouth when Bradly burst in, his expression clouding over at the sight. "Stella, wasn't the scene from last night enough?" His voice was laced with ice. "How long are you planning to drag this out? I've told you already. There's nothing going on between me and Shanna. If you don't believe me..." Stella interrupted him mid-sentence, "Oh, I believe you. Absolutely." A faint smirk tugged at her lips, though her eyes remained frosty as they settled on Shanna. "After all, Ms. Erickson's already married. She just mentioned it herself." The statement landed like a bomb. Shanna's face drained of color, and Bradly's followed suit. He shot her a withering glare. Tears sprang to Shanna's eyes in an instant. Stella had no interest in watching the drama unfold any further. She said evenly, "I'm here for this year's financials. I hold forty percent of the company. Surely I can access that, right?" Bradly seemed to snap back to reality, nodding hastily. "Of course you can." He barked orders at the secretary to fetch it immediately, all the while stealing wary glances at her face. Once he confirmed she wasn't giving anything away, he exhaled almost imperceptibly in relief. He said, "Stella, what's with the sudden interest? You've never bothered with company matters before." Stella answered coolly, "After the account freeze last night, I decided it's smarter to set up a separate one." Bradly's expression froze again. "Stella..." The secretary returned promptly with the report. Stella brushed Bradly aside, skimmed through it quickly, and was heading for the door when he caught her by the wrist. He said, "Stella, about the family dinner tonight, are you coming home with me?" His tone was pleading, like he needed her answer to reassure himself that she hadn't caught on to anything fishy. Stella didn't look back, just replying calmly, "Sure." Bradly's face lit up. "Great, I'll swing by after work to pick you up." Stella dropped her gaze, masking the cool detachment in her eyes. She'd only agreed to head back to the family estate for one specific reason. The marriage license from when she and Bradly had tied the knot was a phony, but he'd made a whole production out of stashing it away at the house, claiming it had to be kept secure. Nothing could serve as stronger proof. Once she got her hands on it, his bigamy would be ironclad. Stella didn't bother waiting for Bradly; she hailed a cab and got there ahead of time. She'd figured it was just a standard family gathering, but she was caught off guard by the full turnout. Bradly's parents, fresh from their overseas vacation last week, were back, and even the distant relatives from the Woodard family's side branches had shown up en masse. "Stella, dear." As she walked in, Nadine Woodard peered over her shoulder. "Bradly didn't come with you?" Stella answered evenly, "He'll be along shortly." Nadine clicked her tongue, her irritation obvious. "On an important occasion like this, letting someone from outside the family arrive solo, what's got into him?" Stella's brow furrowed just a touch. She and Bradly had been engaged since childhood, but after her mother's passing, the Daniels family's status had tanked while the Woodard family kept climbing. That was when Nadine started pushing to scrap the arrangement, and she'd mentioned it more than a few times. But Chuck Woodard was upright and principled, flat-out refusing to play the social-climbing game. With Bradly dead set on marrying her and no one else, Nadine had reluctantly given in, though she made her resentment clear. Even after the marriage, she never passed up an opportunity to give Stella the cold shoulder. She was about to add something else when the butler rushed in and murmured, "He's here." Nadine promptly dropped the subject with Stella and jumped to her feet, the extended family hustling out right behind her to welcome the arrivals. The level of pomp surprised Stella. The Woodard family was already at the top of Ostralver's social elite. For them to pull out all the stops like this... Standing at the edge of the group, Stella glanced up and saw a black Maybach rolling up to the front of the estate. Someone hurried forward to open the door respectfully, and a tall, imposing figure stepped out unhurriedly. The man wore a sleek black suit, his chiseled features sharp, eyes as midnight, radiating a fierce intensity. Every gesture exuded a natural poise and authority that made it tough to hold his stare. The crowd swarmed forward in a rush, but he stayed cool and detached the whole time, his stunningly handsome face as impassive as carved ice, showing zero emotion. Then, as if picking up on something, he looked up toward Stella. Their eyes locked unexpectedly, sending her heart pounding. It was Milford Woodard, Bradly's brother. He'd returned to the country. Though they were brothers in name, Milford wasn't all that tight with the family. He'd headed overseas young and had spent years growing the business abroad. His father Edward Woodard was a total lightweight, good only at spending cash, not earning it. His grandpa Chuck had the smarts and drive, but age was catching up, leaving him unable to manage it all. Real power over the Woodard family had shifted to Milford ages ago. Stella let out a quiet breath. She thought, 'That explains the big crowd today. They've all turned out for Milford.' Chapter 6 Need Help? Stella lingered in the corner of the living room, watching the relatives descend like a swarm of locusts, all scrambling to surround Milford. Bradly stood next to Nadine, flashing a polished smile as he greeted, "Hey, Milford." The uncles who'd been buttering up Bradly just a minute ago quickly switched gears, beaming with over-the-top enthusiasm as they stepped up to say hello. "Milford, what prompted the sudden return?" "Milford, I hear you're in the middle of acquiring a domestic company? You're just getting more impressive by the day." "Come on inside, take a seat. We've got some top-shelf coffee." Bradly caught the stark contrast in the uncles' warmth, his smile fading briefly before he pulled it together and led the way forward. Stella quietly eyed the tall, strikingly handsome Milford striding into the living room like the star of the show, instinctively edging back a step. Now fully pushed to the fringes of the crowd, she shifted aside to let the trailing group pass, doing everything she could to blend into the wallpaper. Milford approached steadily. Unlike Bradly's flashy, outgoing vibe, he had a more brooding, aloof kind of handsomeness, like a pine tree blanketed in snow, regal and intimidating. He acknowledged the flattery around him with simple nods, his eyes scanning the room casually, subtly taking stock of everyone there. Until his gaze swept over Stella again, and he came to an abrupt halt. He paused, causing Bradly to stop too. "Something wrong, Milford?" Milford didn't respond, his steady gaze fixed on Stella. It was only a look, but it jolted her to her core. She felt an odd sense of being claimed, uninvited. Yet she'd barely crossed paths with Milford before. Bradly and the others traced his stare, his eyebrow quirking up. "Stella, come say hi to Big Milford." Stella started to step forward, but Milford beat her to it, walking straight toward her. Bradly and the rest exchanged surprised glances. So far, everyone had been approaching Milford. He hadn't initiated with a soul. Milford's deep eyes gave nothing away. "Stella?" Her breath hitched, like a faint breeze had brushed her ear. She hadn't anticipated him coming over to chat. It had been years, and they'd only met once or twice, but he still remembered her. Stella nodded. "Milford, it's been ages—" Before she could finish, Milford held out his hand. The move was so casual, so natural. Out of pure reflex and politeness, Stella extended hers, their palms connecting. In that brief clasp, she felt him squeeze gently, his thumb settling on her fingers and grazing them with a warm intensity. Milford released after just a second. Suddenly, Bradly sidled up, drawing Stella into his side with an arm around her waist, lacing his fingers through her left hand. He said, "Milford, how long are you in town this time? Stella and I can take you out to dinner one of these days." Milford took in their cozy pose, his glance dropping to their intertwined hands. "About a month." The words had barely left his mouth when Chuck came down the stairs, leaning on the butler for support. Milford headed over to talk with him. Not long after, the kitchen called that the party was ready. Stella trailed Bradly to their seats on the left side of the main table. Everyone filed in and sat. As the eldest branch, the two Woodard brothers took priority. Chuck claimed the head of the main table, with Nadine and Milford next in line. Stella and Bradly fell further down the order, landing her right across from Milford on the diagonal. The family feast got underway, with everyone firing questions at Milford about what he'd been up to lately. Stella kept her head down, nibbling at her food while catching bits of the conversation. Zrester bigwig, major stakeholder in Wonder Group, founder of that financial exchange and the smart transportation AI... Milford's credentials were endless and mind-blowing. She thought back to that Zrester party invite list she'd snagged years ago. Milford was third from the top, while she languished at the bottom. In all these years, she'd had next to no interaction with him. Right after the wedding, this mysterious Milford had only shown up once. He dropped off a gift and vanished. In just a handful of years, Milford had climbed to the pinnacle of Zrester's power players. His talent was obvious. Before long, the family party wound down, and folks scattered to grab desserts. Still hung up on that marriage license, Stella excused herself to head upstairs for a coat change. Bradly was itching to chat with Milford, his gaze fixed that way as he muttered distractedly, "Yeah, go on up." Stella wasted no time hustling upstairs. With the crowd milling about downstairs, she slipped to the third floor of the villa and nudged open Bradly's bedroom door. There it was: the glaring marriage license perched right on top of the nightstand, framed, flanked by their wedding portrait. As she stepped closer, memories of Bradly's cozy moments with Shanna flooded her brain, her nails digging slowly into her palm. That license seared her eyes, like it was sneering at her gullibility. She never should've caved, never should've handed Bradly a second shot. It just went to show that people's hearts circled back for seconds. Disgust flickered in her eyes as she hauled the desk's computer chair over, the kind with wheels and a swivel, shaky at best. She climbed onto it, planting one foot on the bed for stability, teetering just enough to hold steady. Stella hiked up her pearl-white knee-length dress a bit and stretched upward slowly. Fingers extended to the max, but she was still a couple inches shy. She rose onto her tiptoes, straining, but no dice. Frowning from her perch, she scanned around and snagged a book from beside the cabinet. As she leaned down, footsteps suddenly echoed outside the door. Fast, but measured. A man's, for sure. Her pulse spiked. She clutched the table, scrambling to hop down, but, perfect timing, her other sleeve caught on the cabinet's edge. She tugged frantically to break free, but it was too late to descend. The door flew open out of nowhere. Stella went rigid, her knees giving way as she toppled backward off the chair. A quick yelp escaped her, but the expected crash never hit. A firm hand latched precisely onto her thigh, another banding around her waist, hauling her into a solid hold and planting her feet firmly on the floor. She slammed into a warm, toned chest, a crisp, grounding sandalwood aroma enveloping her, not Bradly's scent. Stella glanced up, nearly clipping the guy's chin. Milford let go right away, backing off a step to give her space. Her cheeks burned, the thigh he'd gripped feeling like it was on fire. Mortified and frozen, she stammered, "Th-thanks." Milford stayed composed, his eyes skimming her flushed face and the pinkened patch of skin on her thigh from his hold. His Adam's apple dipped subtly. "Didn't realize you were in here. My bad." Stella shook her head, even more flustered. She was the one imposing on him. Milford flicked a glance upward. "Need some help?" She looked too. Up top, the marriage license screamed for attention. Chapter 7 Don't Let Me Hate You Stella just came out with it. "I want to get the marriage license down." Milford hesitated for a beat, without probing why she needed it, and slid the chair out of the way. Tall and long-limbed, he barely had to tip up on his toes to snag it effortlessly. Milford skimmed the lettering on the license, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes before the faintest quirk tugged at his lips, almost undetectable. He passed it over to Stella. "Ah, I see." She missed the words, taking it with a soft murmur: "Thanks, Milford." Her palms were slick with sweat now, but holding the certificate still sent an icy shiver through her. Those bold letters were a brutal reminder. This whole marriage had been one big joke. From beginning to end, Bradly's grand performance of undying love had always had a third wheel in the shadows. Milford dropped his gaze. Towering over her, all he could make out was the neat swirl at the top of her head, round and oddly appealing. Those slim, pale hands gripped the certificate like a vise, completely bloodless. Milford asked offhandedly, "So, what's the marriage license for?" "Oh, I just want to bring it home and store it there," Stella shot back, pulling an excuse out of thin air. Milford's stare felt like it enveloped her, the heat of it almost scorching, though he kept his hands to himself. Then he casually adjusted his cufflinks and turned to go. Stella let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, sagging against the cool cabinet. Her thigh still tingled with warmth from his grip; she quickly smoothed her skirt down, tucked the license into her bag, and only left the room once everything looked undisturbed. Bradly was still out in the back garden, deep in conversation. Stella kept her face neutral, strolling over to stand at his side. A few relatives were chatting with him. "Hey, word is Milford actually got back a couple days ago, but only tipped us off today." Bradly looked taken aback. "I thought he was flying in today?" "Nope, sounds like he hit up some auction. I only heard bits and pieces, supposedly the other night at the Empire Auction House." "He must not have gone. I was there that evening too, and I didn't see him anywhere," Bradly said, frowning in confusion. Stella's eyelashes flickered subtly, but she played it cool. Out of nowhere, her mind jumped back to that enigmatic bidder in suite 217. She wondered, 'Could Milford be the mystery guest who got the bracelet for me?' She shoved the thought down as soon as it surfaced. They'd only crossed paths once, total strangers really, connected by the flimsiest in-law tie. No matter how you sliced it, Milford wouldn't stick his neck out for her. Just like Bradly said, he hadn't caught wind of anything, so it couldn't be Milford. Stella let it go. After some more mingling, the group started to break up. Bradly steered her over to bid farewell to Milford. "Mom, Milford, we're taking off. Let's set up a family dinner soon when things settle." Milford slouched back in his chair with effortless nonchalance and gave a nod. "I'm knee-deep in an acquisition, no hurry on the get-together. But you..." He lifted his head, his expression sharpening. "Keep your life on the straight and narrow. Don't veer off track." The edge of warning in his voice was crystal clear. Bradly had grown up overshadowed by Milford; he went rigid but brushed it off casually. "Come on, everything's good. My company's running smooth as ever. If you're skeptical, drop by anytime and pore over the financials—knock yourself out." "It's not just about the company," Milford said softly, eyes down as he savored a sip of coffee. Stella couldn't help stealing a glance at him, and in that instant, a ridiculous idea struck her. From what Bradly had mentioned, Milford was abroad most of the time but still had the inside scoop on everything back home. She wondered, 'Does he know about the shady stuff Bradly is up to on the sly?' "Milford, I hear you. I'll make sure to nurture my marriage with Stella, our whole life together." Bradly grinned, threading his fingers through Stella's. Milford's gaze lingered on their joined hands for a second before drifting away, sealed with a subtle nod. Stella had no desire for any more close contact with Bradly, so she subtly shook his hand free without thinking. A split second later, his disbelieving stare locked onto her face, and he tried to grab her again. She'd known her move would humiliate him in the moment, so she didn't bother saying goodbye to Milford. She just turned and walked out ahead. Once they slid into the car, Bradly shed his polite, deferential mask from earlier, reverting to his entitled rich-kid swagger. He tugged his tie loose, a flicker of annoyance pinching his brows. "Always playing the big-brother card to chew me out, same crap since we were little. "So what if he's crushing it overseas? I'm holding my own just fine back home. Who in Ostralver would even think about messing with me?" Bradly fished out a menthol cigarette on autopilot, ready to light up, but he caught himself after glancing at Stella and shoved it back. He said, "All these years, folks have been whispering, or saying it straight to my face, that my company's thriving because of his pull. Like he's behind every damn thing. "And you? You flat-out refused to let me hold your hand back there. Trying to make me look like an idiot in front of him?" His expression iced over, the edge in his voice impossible to miss. Stella's frown deepened as she took it in. Even without knowing Milford all that well, she understood that Bradly's cocky antics in Ostralver, brushing people off like they were nothing, had always been propped up by Milford's clout. She'd assumed the brothers were tight, but clearly Bradly's respect was just for show; underneath, his grudge against Milford simmered deep. She could overlook a lot, but with things the way they were now, there was zero point in him putting on that phony hand-holding act. Stella gripped her bag, the one with the marriage license inside, and couldn't bite her tongue. "We haven't held hands in forever. It feels off to me." The car went dead quiet. She was right. Their physical closeness had dwindled so much that even she couldn't pinpoint the last time. Bradly's brow creased, and he snapped the cigarette filter clean off between his fingers. "What was that?" Stella met his eyes steadily. "From here on out, let's skip the pointless touchy-feely stuff. It just doesn't sit right." She hadn't even finished when the brakes screeched harshly. The car lurched to a halt on the empty shoulder of the road. Stella almost smacked into the window from the force, her pulse hammering as she barked, "Are you out of your mind?" Bradly loomed over her, fingers digging into her chin, irritation boiling in his glare. "Stella, do you have any idea what you're saying?" The pinch stung like crazy, and the absurdity of it all hit her as she wrestled to shove him off. "Is it not true? When's the last time we even held hands. Can you remember?" Bradly's gaze turned stormy, like she'd struck a raw spot. "I bet you're hung up on Milford, just like that girl from the second branch. That's why you pulled away in front of him. You're trying to cut ties with me?" "Bradly! What the hell are you babbling about?" Anger surged through her as she pushed harder. "Don't you dare pin your gross history on me!" The way the family had orbited Milford like he was the sun had obviously gotten under his skin. The more she resisted, the darker his look grew. Abruptly, he leaned in and smashed his mouth against hers. Stella's eyes flew wide, her head whipping aside to evade as she hammered at his shoulders with everything she had. He'd locked lips with Shanna god knows how often. The thought turned her stomach, so she clamped down and bit him hard. Bradly yelped in pain, jerking back as the fog cleared and he clocked what he'd just done, regret flashing across his face. Blood dotted his lip, but he brushed it off, lunging to wrap her in his arms. "I'm sorry, Stella, baby, I'm so sorry. I screwed up; it was a stupid impulse..." Drained of energy, Stella sagged into the passenger seat, letting him hold her while a barren wave of emptiness and revulsion washed over her. The hug she'd once melted into now repulsed her to her core. "Get off me." Her voice came out rough and scratchy. "Bradly, don't push me to hating you."
Chapter 1 Don't Want Him Anymore "I'm sorry, ma'am." On the other end of the line, the insurance customer service rep said coolly, "After checking our records, the car owner, Mr. Woodard, is indeed married, but the spouse listed here isn't you." Stella Daniels had gotten into a car accident on her way to the Woodard Group headquarters. She couldn't get through to Bradly Woodard on his phone, so she had no choice but to call the insurance company. The car was registered in Bradly's name, but as his wife, she should be able to process the claim too. "When Mr. Woodard picked up the car, he came with his wife and provided the original marriage license. Her last name is Erickson, and her full name is Shanna Erickson," the rep said. It hit Stella like a slap in the face. Dizziness washed over her in waves, leaving her whole body shaking uncontrollably. She and Bradly had been childhood sweethearts. Their families were old friends, and everyone in Ostralver's high society knew how clingy he was with her. Bradly couldn't stand being apart from her even for a single day. Three years ago, when Stella headed abroad for her studies, Bradly had the plane stopped just for her. During her three years in Ensland, he expanded his business overseas to make it easier to look after her. Sixteen thousand miles apart, he'd still fly across the ocean every week to see her. The year she came down with a severe lung illness and nearly didn't pull through, she spent a week in intensive care. Bradly ignored the infection risks and stayed right by her side, sliding a ring onto her finger. He said, "If anything happens to you, I'll go with you. We'll be husband and wife in the next life too." For Bradly's sake, she turned down her mentor's offer to stay on in the lab and headed back home. Brimming with excitement, she went to find him, planning to surprise him. But when she pushed open the door to the CEO's office, she saw a slender, pretty woman straddling his lap. The woman's innocent face tilted upward, her voice whiny and aggrieved. "Mr. Woodard, what happens to me now that Stella is back?" Bradly sat in his executive chair, his tall frame looming over her. A flash of ruthlessness crossed his stern features. "You? You're just her stand-in. Don't forget your place." He lifted his hand, pinching her delicate chin with a sneer. "Barely a three-out-of-ten resemblance, and you think you can compare to her?" Stella was still clutching the gift she'd prepared for him. With a loud "bang," it dropped to the floor, finally breaking the scene in the office. Bradly's face drained of color as he shoved the woman off and jumped to his feet. That woman was Shanna. After Stella caught them in the act, Bradly fired Shanna on the spot and pulled out all the stops to win her back. Bradly, the arrogant prince of Ostralver's elite circles, humbled himself to the dust before her, begging her to give him another chance. Any project she set her sights on, he'd drop without a second thought. He stood in the pouring rain outside her building for over a week, just for a glimpse of her. He said, "Stella, I'm not asking you to forgive me. At least let me explain. "I only ever saw Shanna as your replacement. You've been gone abroad for so long; I missed you terribly. I swear, I just kept her around. Nothing more ever happened between us. "That time you walked in, I'd had too much to drink, and she deliberately tempted me. I lost control for a moment... "I've already let her go, and she won't show up in our lives again. Stella, please, come back to me." Back then, Stella couldn't stand even the slightest betrayal. She insisted on breaking off the engagement. Until that one incident. She was kidnapped by a business rival. The kidnappers reneged on the deal, tied her up in an abandoned factory, and set the place ablaze. Bradly charged into the flames without a second thought to rescue her, shielding her from a collapsing steel beam. He ended up gravely injured, confined to bed for nearly six months. By risking his life, Bradly finally melted her resolve. Once he was out of the hospital, she accepted his proposal, and they threw a lavish wedding. In the two years since they tied the knot, he'd treated her just as devotedly as ever, with zero scandals. He even imposed a strict curfew on himself, heading home right on time every day. Even on out-of-town business trips, he'd video call her constantly. His partners would tease him about being henpecked. He never denied it. Instead, he'd grin proudly and say, "A real man takes care of his family." Memories rushed through Stella's mind like a whirlwind, every past moment flashing by in a blur. Her legs buckled, and she dropped to her knees, burying her face in her hands. She couldn't figure out which Bradly was the real one anymore. A bitter, mocking gleam sparked in her eyes. She thought, 'How absurd.' She'd been his wife for two years, and only now was she learning that even their marriage license had been a sham. Stella scrubbed her face hard, her bangs already soaked with cold sweat. She ignored the other driver's furious yelling and calmly dialed the police. They showed up fast. After finishing her statement, Stella left the station under a sky that had gone completely dark. Her phone lit up with several missed calls from Bradly. When she hadn't answered, he'd sent texts instead. Bradly: [Babe, I was tied up in a key meeting this afternoon. Signal jammers were on, so I missed your call. You okay?] Bradly: [I've got a client dinner tonight, so I'll be late getting home. I double-checked: no women involved, so no need to worry.] Bradly: [Head to bed early. Don't wait up. Love you.] Stella stared at the screen, a sharp wave of irony twisting in her gut. Bradly didn't stagger in until the wee hours. He reeked of alcohol, which almost, but not quite, masked the subtle whiff of perfume on him. "Honey..." He could barely keep his balance, stumbling over to wrap his arms around her through the blanket. "I missed you so damn much..." Stella didn't say a word. Only once he was dead to the world did she sit up quietly and unlock his phone with his fingerprint. The thing was squeaky clean, no suspicious traces at all. His contacts were mostly buddies and business folks, with hers pinned at the top as "Darling Wife." Flawlessly tidy, just like their sham of a marriage. Stella hooked the phone up to her computer, and it didn't take long to uncover his second WhatsApp account. She signed in, and right away, messages popped up from a profile with a cute pink kitten avatar, labeled "Baby." Shanna: [Bradly, thanks for tonight. Without you, I wouldn't have known what to do.] Shanna: [I've always thought meeting you was the luckiest thing that's ever happened to me. I won't intrude on your life. As long as you swing by to see me once in a while, that's enough to make me happy.] Stella scrolled back through the history. She'd suspected as much, but seeing it all laid out still hit her like a punch to the chest, leaving her breathless. They chatted nearly every day. Shanna never missed a good morning message, and Bradly's replies had shifted over time, from total silence at first, to sporadic responses, and now to answering every single one. A chill spread through her. Stella clutched the phone tighter, knowing she should quit while she was ahead but unable to stop herself from digging deeper. Shanna: [Bradly, sorry, I had a few drinks and lost it for a bit. Doc says I'm okay now, so don't stress.] Shanna: [Mrs. Woodard's birthday bash is important. Go enjoy it with her. I'll be fine.] Stella squeezed her eyes shut as the memory came rushing back. Her birthday. Bradly had spent over a month planning it down to the last detail, but that day, he was totally distracted. Hell, he almost cut his own hand while slicing the cake. When she'd asked what was up, he'd brushed it off as work drama, told her not to worry, then pulled her into a soft embrace and encouraged her to blow out the candles and make a wish. It all made sense now, as she stared at this chat log. That same day, Shanna had tried to kill herself by slashing her wrists and ended up in the ER. A sour bitterness flooded her chest like a rising tide. In those brief seconds when she'd closed her eyes to wish, she wondered, 'Was he agonizing over Shanna in the hospital, or picturing endless years together with her?' Stella knew she didn't need an answer to that anymore. She gently placed the phone back and looked down at Bradly, fast asleep beside her. She'd known him since she was four, and for the twenty years that followed, she'd truly believed his love was hers alone, irreplaceable. But now she saw it for what it was: just cheap free samples at a store, handed out to anyone who walked by. If that was all it amounted to, she was done with it. Chapter 2 Bid Against Her The next day, Stella woke to find Bradly busy in the kitchen, his broad shoulders narrowing to a slim waist, his tall, lean build moving with purpose. The sight hit her hard, a dull ache tightening in her chest. Bradly had learned to cook entirely for her sake. She still remembered that turbulent period when the Woodard Group was in crisis. His rivals had targeted her, paying off a servant to poison her food. She'd been unconscious for three full days. When she finally woke, Bradly was there, his eyes red-rimmed and veined with exhaustion, gripping her hand like a lifeline. The instant she stirred, the imposing Bradly crumbled forward, enveloping her in a hug as scalding tears fell onto her skin. From then on, Bradly threw himself into cooking lessons, taking charge of all her meals. In less than a month, he'd gone from a spoiled elite who couldn't distinguish spices to turning out dishes worthy of a Michelin chef. Just then, his phone rang. Stella glanced at it but made no move to answer. Bradly darted out of the kitchen, apron still on, grabbing the phone with a barely concealed flash of anxiety. Stella pretended not to notice and went to wash up. When she came back, the table was set with breakfast, and he was slipping into his suit jacket from the coat rack. Seeing her, he said gently, "There's an emergency at work. I have to run. Sorry I can't join you for breakfast." Stella murmured, "Sure, work comes first." He was clearly in a hurry, because he didn't pick up on the new edge of cool distance in her tone and rushed out. She stared blankly after him until he was gone, then dumped the entire spread into the trash. Then she picked up her phone and dialed a number. "That offer you made before? I'm on board." The person on the other end erupted in delight, chattering away before shifting to broken Andosa Language. "Stella, why the sudden change of heart? I've bugged you about this so many times, and you always said you were married now and focusing on family." A mocking glint flickered in Stella's eyes. She thought, 'Married? This so-called marriage has been dead on arrival.' The caller was her former mentor from her overseas studies. He'd reached out lately, hoping she'd join his new team and spearhead a major project. At the time, she'd kept saying no out of loyalty to Bradly. Now, she only wished she'd seen through the absurd joke of their marriage earlier. After the call, she contacted immigration to schedule a passport renewal. It would take about a week. But before heading out, she had one loose end to tie up. That evening, Stella showed up at a private auction at the Cloud Hotel. She was after one of her mother's keepsakes. Her mom had died when she was eight, and soon after, the Daniels family had liquidated her wedding gift. Stella had been hunting down the items ever since. Over the years, she'd only reclaimed a few. Tonight's auction featured a bracelet from that collection, one her mother had picked up on a trip to Ijance. It was utterly unique, irreplaceable. Whatever it took, she was getting it back. Stella settled into her seat just as the auction was about to start. She was flipping through the catalog when Bradly's voice floated over. "Didn't I already pick out that royal blue sapphire set for you? Not good enough?" His voice carried that familiar tenderness. Shanna linked her arm with his, pouting playfully. "Your taste sucks! I want to pick my own birthday gift." Stella watched them quietly until Bradly threaded through the guests and their gazes collided by chance. The color drained from his face. On pure reflex, he jerked his arm away from Shanna. "Stella." He strode over quickly. "I tried calling you a few times, but you didn't answer. Were you planning to surprise me?" Even though he tried to play it cool, she could still catch that subtle hint of panic in his expression. Stella didn't bother calling him on it, replying evenly, "My phone was on silent. I didn't hear it." Bradly visibly relaxed, casually taking her hand in his with a look of concern. "Your hands are like ice. Didn't I warn you about the cold snap today? You're always putting style over staying warm. If you catch a chill, you know it'll just kill me." As he talked, he signaled a server for a blanket and draped it snugly around her shoulders. Stella kept a straight face, brushing him off as she looked past him to Shanna, who lingered behind with a scowl. Shanna nibbled her lip, then defiantly dropped into the seat next to Bradly, her gaze simmering with irritation. Bradly leaned closer, dropping his voice to explain, "We just wrapped up a major project at the company, and Shanna pulled her weight big time. Her birthday's around the corner, so I thought I'd treat her to something as a project bonus." He eyed her anxiously. "Stella, you're not mad, right?" Shanna piped up in a soft, vulnerable tone. "Mrs. Woodard, if this upsets you, I'll just go. I don't want to get in the way of you and Mr. Woodard." Stella's mouth quirked into a smile that never touched her eyes. "We're married. A little thing like this? Of course it doesn't bother me." The auction got underway shortly after. Bradly treated Shanna like she was invisible, focusing entirely on Stella. He paged through the catalog, throwing in bids left and right. "Babe, this would look amazing on you." He grinned, tenderly brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his tone warm and intimate. "You'd be gorgeous in it." Stella averted her eyes, but out of the corner of her vision, she saw Shanna discreetly clutching the edge of Bradly's jacket in the dim light. Their gazes locked for a split second in a shared, lingering look. She masked the derision in her own eyes, struck by how absurd it all was. Bradly seemed totally at ease juggling both women, convinced he was keeping things balanced, one with the official status, the other with his undivided public attention. She thought, 'What could be fairer than that?' But Stella had never been interested in that kind of equilibrium. Her world extended far beyond romance. Bradly? He was just a small detour on her path, a misstep she'd own up to. And now, it was time to set things right. "Next up: a string of bracelet. Fine-grained texture, deep aroma that lingers. Starting bid at 170,000 dollars, with increments of at least 20,000 dollars!" The auctioneer's pumped-up voice echoed through the room. Finally, Stella's main target for the evening. Bids flew in fast, the screen flickering with updates as the auctioneer called out, "Number 17 lady at 200,000 dollars! Number 9 gentleman ups it to 260,000 dollars! Going higher?" Once the initial frenzy tapered off, Stella lifted her paddle. "500,000 dollars." She'd doubled the current bid in one go. It was a hefty amount. Sure, the bracelet was top-notch, but it wasn't the auction's highlight. The room went quiet after her call; no one countered. "Fantastic! Number 11 lady at 500,000 dollars! "500,000 dollars once! 500,000 dollars twice!" The auctioneer hoisted his gavel, poised to bring it down. "No more bids? Then 500,000 dollars—" "520,000 dollars," A gentle, hesitant voice interrupted. Shanna shrank against Bradly's side, paddle in hand, murmuring timidly to him, "Is this where I put in the amount?" Chapter 3 You're Dirty Stella frowned and raised her bid. "540,000 dollars." But Shanna was right behind her, countering with, "560,000 dollars." How annoyingly precise, each time, she stuck to the bare minimum, slapping on just 20,000 dollars more than Stella's offer. Shanna turned toward her, her voice dripping with plea. "Stella, you've got plenty of jewelry already. Please, let me have this one. I adore it. "I'm not like you, born with money, everything handed to you on a silver platter. You snap your fingers and get whatever you want. If it goes any higher, I really won't be able to keep up." Stella didn't bother looking at her, just quirking her lips in a thin smile. "Isn't Mr. Woodard covering the cost for you? What are you stressing about?" Shanna's face went a shade paler, but she answered in that soft, demure tone, "Even so, Mr. Woodard earns his money the hard way. If I can save him a bit, I ought to." She was the epitome of considerate and caring. After several more back-and-forth bids, the bracelet's price had soared to 700,000 dollars. Stella let out a chilly scoff and was opening her mouth to up the ante when Bradly beat her to it. He said, "Babe, why don't we just let Shanna take this bracelet?" Stella's fingers curled into a tight fist, her nails biting into her palm. She lifted her gaze, any lingering warmth in her eyes turning to ice. "What did you just say?" Bradly let out a resigned sigh, giving her hand a comforting pat as he murmured gently, "Babe, I already told Shanna she'd get a gift tonight, and she's got her heart set on this one. No need to compete with her. "Plus, I've already snagged you a handful of other pieces. Isn't that plenty?" He said it all lightly, teasingly, as if it were nothing more than a harmless quip. Stella shut her eyes, a nameless sourness creeping along her nerves, coiling around her heart until it felt like she couldn't draw a breath. Given Shanna's modest background, 700,000 dollars was way out of her league. She wouldn't even make the guest list here on her own. The only reason she was in that seat, trading bids blow for blow, was Bradly's backing. His pampering had delivered her straight into Stella's path. Stella whispered, "What if I refuse to back down?" She hoisted her paddle once more, her voice echoing through the room. "1 million dollars." A hush blanketed the hall. The auctioneer clearly picked up on the drama, his delivery faltering. "Number eleven at 1 million dollars. Do I hear higher?" Shanna's eyes welled up, on the verge of tears, as she cast a helpless look at Bradly before tacking on another fifty thousand. "1 million 20 thousand dollars." Stella's features hardened to frost, and she was poised to fire back when the manager bustled over, bending close to murmur, "Mrs. Woodard, apologies. We ran a credit verification on your account, and it's frozen. Got another one we can use?" The words slammed into her like a bolt from the blue, ringing in her ears. She snapped her head toward Bradly, but he'd already looked away. An icy numbness spread through her arms and legs. She though,t 'Of course, it has to be him.' Her primary account was linked with his; besides her, only he could authorize a freeze on her cards. Triumph flickered in Shanna's eyes as she added with a pointed edge, "Well, in that case, Mrs. Woodard, maybe it's time to step aside. You've got so much already. Can't you let me have this one little thing?" Up on stage, the auction rolled on, the display frozen on Shanna's latest bid: 1 million 20 thousand dollars. Shanna could hardly hide her glee, chirping sweetly, "Go on, call it!" But the words had barely left her lips when someone announced he would bid for the lot at any costs right in the second-floor VIP suite. After a momentary silence, the room burst into chaos. "He's declared absolute intent!" Even the auctioneer's expression changed. He'd been in the game for over a decade, but this was his first encounter with such a scenario. He hurriedly called out, "Lot number six goes to the gentleman in box 217, regardless of how high the price goes." Anyone up in those second-floor VIP suites was either swimming in money or held serious sway in Ostralver's upper crust. Stella glanced upward toward the source of the voice, catching only a vague outline behind the draped curtains. Even when she couldn't see his face, the man's crossed-legged posture radiated an unspoken dominance that pressed down on the room. The auctioneer slammed his gavel down with finality, proclaiming, "Congratulations to our esteemed guest in box 217 on winning lot number six! You're now upgraded to black gold status!" Across all of Ostralver's elite scene, fewer than a handful had ever hit black gold level at these events. Stella wondered, 'Just who is this mystery man?' Stella loosened her clenched fist slightly, torn between relief that her mother's heirloom hadn't landed in Shanna's clutches and anxiety over reclaiming it from this unknown figure. No matter what, she'd stop at nothing, pay any price, to bring her mother's possession home. She rose to her feet, intent on marching over to box 217 for a chat, when the attendant who'd just ducked inside reappeared, tray in hand with the bracelet. "What's this? The bidder in 217 having second thoughts?" "Auctions don't do take-backs." "Probably short on funds. I called it. No one's done this here before." As the murmurs swirled, the attendant headed straight for Stella, dipping into a courteous bow with a warm smile. She said, "Mrs. Woodard, the gentleman in box 217 requests that I deliver the bracelet to you as a gift. He wishes for you to follow your true path and for all to unfold as it should." The place erupted in gossip once more, with guests shooting glances her way, some envious, others skeptical, many flat-out stunned. "Isn't that Mrs. Woodard? What's her deal with the upstairs guy?" "Likely just buttering up Mr. Woodard." "Nah, I don't buy it. Out of all the goodies tonight, why zero in on those beads for Mrs. Woodard? Sounds like she's got a real connection there." The buzz filtered through, and Bradly's face turned stone-cold. In a tight, edged voice, he demanded, "Stella, what's the story with you and whoever's in box 217?" Stella held his piercing stare and said flatly, "I have no idea who he is." "!" Bradly jumped up, clamping down on her wrist like a vice. Her soft, fair skin reddened almost instantly under the pressure. Stella winced sharply, jerking her arm back on reflex. "Bradly, have you lost your mind? Haven't you stirred up enough drama for one day?" But he barreled on, blind to her fury, his reddened eyes locked on her as if he could swallow her up. "What's really between you two? "Stella, through all our married years, I've bent over backward for you. Anything you desired, I served it up without question. Why would you betray me like this?" In his mind, it was already a done deal: she was entangled in something shady with the man above. If the guy was angling for a favor from him, Bradly would've recognized him right away. People in Ostralver didn't beat around the bush when they needed something from him. They came direct. The jab landed raw and direct. Bradly blinked, frozen for a beat as a flicker of alarm shot through his eyes. Chapter 4 Don't Know You'd Come Bradly said, "I'm sorry, Stella. I didn't mean it like that. I had no right getting jealous over you and some stranger. It's all on me." Bradly's eyes reddened. "But honestly, there's nothing going on between Shanna and me. I just brought her along as a thank-you. Can you let this slide?" Seeing his cue, Shanna ducked her head meekly, her voice catching. "That's right, Mrs. Woodard. I've been bending over backward to keep my distance from Mr. Woodard so you wouldn't get the wrong impression. "I'm not asking for the world, just a decent birthday gift. I didn't grow up with your advantages; you've had everything handed to you and even snagged a catch like Mr. Woodard. Can't I at least pick out something for myself?" "Just a gift, huh?" Stella closed in on her, one step at a time. "Ms. Erickson, I've never given a damn about this 'gift' you're going on about. What gets under my skin is you, a Woodard Group employee, crossing lines you have no business crossing." As they drew closer, Bradly instinctively stepped in front of Shanna, his voice soft and coaxing. "Stella, if it's bugging you this much, I'll transfer her to a branch office once the auction's over. "But for now, cut me some slack. Let Shanna have the bracelet. When we get home, name your price on anything, and it's yours." Shanna bobbed her head in agreement, tears glistening on her lashes as she pleaded, "Stella, I really adore this bracelet. You've got it all already. Why go after the one thing I want? "Or is this just because you hate my guts and can't resist taking shots at me?" "What makes you think I'd ever like you?" Stella let out a cold snort. "This belonged to me from the start. Why the hell would I give it up?" She took the bracelet from the attendant with casual ease, her smile sharp but empty. "Ms. Erickson, know your place." Her refusal to budge finally wore through Bradly's patience, erasing every bit of softness from his face. "Stella, do you have to humiliate me like this in front of everyone? Where does that leave my dignity? "It's just a crappy old bracelet. Am I really worth less to you than some trinket?" He said it with such conviction, as if he'd wiped from his memory the solemn vow he'd made when proposing: that he'd hunt down every single one of her mother's sold-off keepsakes, no matter what. Stella's hand flew up, delivering a resounding slap across his cheek. The sharp crack rang out, pulling shocked stares from every corner of the room. Bradly's head snapped sideways, his face livid as he fixed her with a glare, his words hissing through clenched teeth. "Stella, drop the drama already. Have I pampered you too much these days, turning you into this unreasonable nightmare?" Stella reined in her temper, keeping her tone even. "Bradly, you better not live to regret today." Without another word, she turned and walked out, not sparing a backward glance. As her figure receded, Shanna gently touched the angry red mark on Bradly's cheek, her voice full of worry. "Mr. Woodard, are you okay? "Stella's got no boundaries. How could she hit you with all these people watching?" Bradly swatted her hand aside, his nails digging into his palm as he stared after her retreating path. "I've spoiled her rotten, letting her forget that everything she has comes from me." Shanna peeked at his changing expression, testing the waters. "Mr. Woodard, about the bracelet..." Bradly rubbed his throbbing cheek, pulled a bank card from his pocket, and handed it over. "1.7 million dollars on there. Buy whatever catches your eye." Box 217, Stella rapped on the door, eager to thank the mystery bidder face-to-face. Silence. She caught a server walking by. "Excuse me, any idea where the gentleman from this box headed?" "He slipped out right after nabbing the last item," the server said. Disappointment flashed in her eyes, but Stella pressed on, "Do you know who he was?" The server gave her a regretful smile. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard, we're not allowed to spill on our VIPs. Don't make this harder for us." Catching herself, Stella moved out of the way. "Thanks all the same." By the time she made it home from the auction, an hour had ticked by. Stella went straight up to the study, fired up the computer, and dove into the assets registered under her and Bradly's names. After tallying up the numbers, she snatched her phone, found lawyer Rubin Cobb's contact, and hit dial. She said, "I've sorted out the asset division documents for me and Bradly and sent them over. I need you to handle the property split by tomorrow." Rubin quickly received the files and nodded respectfully. "Of course, Mrs. Woodard. I'll get right on it." Stella stared intently at her computer screen, her grip tightening on the mouse. "If Bradly's committed bigamy, how should our assets be divided?" "Generally, any property the bigamous party gained through the bigamy can be claimed back by the other spouse," Rubin replied matter-of-factly. Half of Bradly's current wealth had come from Stella's investments to support his career early on. Her expression darkened, and she promptly forwarded the marriage license between him and Shanna. "Rubin, please use every legal avenue to recover my half of the assets." After hanging up, Stella slumped back in her chair, utterly drained physically and emotionally. She closed her eyes slowly, but sleep was nowhere in sight. Bradly would never agree to a divorce. Until she had everything locked down, she couldn't let on that anything was amiss. Just then, the study door was kicked open from the outside. Bradly flung his jacket onto the desk and yanked Stella up from her seat in front of the computer. "Do you realize that because of your little outburst, I've become a laughingstock in our circles? "What exactly do you want? Are you still obsessing over what happened back then?" Stella opened her eyes slowly, her gaze settling calmly on Bradly, but she remained silent. A fire raged in Bradly's chest, intensifying by the second, and he couldn't hold back his fury any longer. "Since we got married, have I ever done anything to wrong you? I come home right on time every night after work, I always fill you in on any business dinners, and if there's even a hint of a woman involved, I skip them entirely! I've bent over backward, and it's still not good enough for you?" He remembered every detail crystal clear. In his mind, these were the sacrifices he'd made to marry her. Stella suddenly found the whole thing absurd. She couldn't bear to look at him anymore, so she stood up and walked straight out of the study without a backward glance. Behind her, Bradly's voice echoed heavily. "Stella, no matter what you think, my conscience is clear." It felt like Stella's heart had been shattered into icy fragments, a sharp, bitter pain surging through her. Her mind buzzed, and for a moment, all she could hear was that phrase repeating over and over. She thought, 'My conscience is clear? So, in his eyes, everything he's done is perfectly justifiable.' The next morning, when Stella woke up, Bradly was already gone. On the table sat the breakfast he'd prepared, tailored exactly to her tastes. Stella pressed her lips together, her feelings a complicated tangle. They'd ended things on a sour note last night, yet Bradly had still made her breakfast this morning. But this was the same man who'd lied to her for years. No matter what, it was time to end things with Bradly. She didn't touch the food and headed straight to the office. These past few years, she'd stayed out of Bradly's business dealings. A lot of her old financial records were outdated now, and she needed the latest reports. The secretary looked startled when she saw her, then managed to say, "Mrs. Woodard, are you here to see Mr. Woodard?" "No." Stella replied evenly. "Send the finance manager in to see me." Her shares were second only to Bradly's, giving her full access to every aspect of the company. The secretary hesitated briefly before nodding. Stella noticed her immediately turning to make a phone call, probably alerting Bradly. Stella didn't intervene; let her. She settled into the finance office, sipping her coffee absentmindedly while flipping through magazines on the shelf. Most were glossy entertainment rags, mixed in with novels and comics. Stella frowned, only now picking up on the details: the desk was covered in a pink plaid mat, cluttered with adorable plush toys. The standout pair was a set of couple dolls, their outfits emblazoned with the letters W and E. It hit Stella suddenly what that meant, and just then, the door behind her swung open. Shanna rushed in. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard." She was clutching a cup of coffee as she apologized. "I had no idea you'd drop by like this..." Chapter 5 All For Milford Stella arched an eyebrow as she looked her over. "So you're the finance manager?" Shanna nodded with a quick smile. "That's me. If you need anything at all, just say the word. Bradly, well, Mr. Woodard is tied up in a meeting right now. But don't worry, I'll make sure to relay whatever message you have." Stella let out a soft laugh. "No need for that." She regarded Shanna with clear curiosity. "I'm not looking for Bradly. I'm here to see you." Shanna's smile faltered for a moment before she recovered, her tone turning gentle. "Mrs. Woodard, I get that you're still bothered by what went down at the auction last night, but there's no reason to be so worked up about my connection to Mr. Woodard. After all..." She raised her hand, the elegant diamond ring on her finger glinting under the light, perfectly complementing her bashful grin. "I'm already married, and things are great between me and my husband." Stella's eyes locked on the ring, her breath hitching just for an instant. It was ridiculous. In this whole messed-up situation, she was the one playing the role of the mistress. The ring was an exact match for the one Bradly had given her during his proposal. But within seconds, Stella averted her gaze. "It's a lovely ring, but you're mistaken." She spoke unhurriedly, "I'm just here to grab the latest financial report from you. That's all." Stella caught the sour shift in Shanna's expression and smiled to herself. "Seems like you're the one on edge here, Ms. Erickson." Shanna's face transformed completely, that smug spark in her eyes snuffed out. She bit her lip, unable to find words for a long beat. Stella watched her with unruffled poise. "Do I need to repeat my request, Ms. Erickson?" The words had barely left her mouth when Bradly burst in, his expression clouding over at the sight. "Stella, wasn't the scene from last night enough?" His voice was laced with ice. "How long are you planning to drag this out? I've told you already. There's nothing going on between me and Shanna. If you don't believe me..." Stella interrupted him mid-sentence, "Oh, I believe you. Absolutely." A faint smirk tugged at her lips, though her eyes remained frosty as they settled on Shanna. "After all, Ms. Erickson's already married. She just mentioned it herself." The statement landed like a bomb. Shanna's face drained of color, and Bradly's followed suit. He shot her a withering glare. Tears sprang to Shanna's eyes in an instant. Stella had no interest in watching the drama unfold any further. She said evenly, "I'm here for this year's financials. I hold forty percent of the company. Surely I can access that, right?" Bradly seemed to snap back to reality, nodding hastily. "Of course you can." He barked orders at the secretary to fetch it immediately, all the while stealing wary glances at her face. Once he confirmed she wasn't giving anything away, he exhaled almost imperceptibly in relief. He said, "Stella, what's with the sudden interest? You've never bothered with company matters before." Stella answered coolly, "After the account freeze last night, I decided it's smarter to set up a separate one." Bradly's expression froze again. "Stella..." The secretary returned promptly with the report. Stella brushed Bradly aside, skimmed through it quickly, and was heading for the door when he caught her by the wrist. He said, "Stella, about the family dinner tonight, are you coming home with me?" His tone was pleading, like he needed her answer to reassure himself that she hadn't caught on to anything fishy. Stella didn't look back, just replying calmly, "Sure." Bradly's face lit up. "Great, I'll swing by after work to pick you up." Stella dropped her gaze, masking the cool detachment in her eyes. She'd only agreed to head back to the family estate for one specific reason. The marriage license from when she and Bradly had tied the knot was a phony, but he'd made a whole production out of stashing it away at the house, claiming it had to be kept secure. Nothing could serve as stronger proof. Once she got her hands on it, his bigamy would be ironclad. Stella didn't bother waiting for Bradly; she hailed a cab and got there ahead of time. She'd figured it was just a standard family gathering, but she was caught off guard by the full turnout. Bradly's parents, fresh from their overseas vacation last week, were back, and even the distant relatives from the Woodard family's side branches had shown up en masse. "Stella, dear." As she walked in, Nadine Woodard peered over her shoulder. "Bradly didn't come with you?" Stella answered evenly, "He'll be along shortly." Nadine clicked her tongue, her irritation obvious. "On an important occasion like this, letting someone from outside the family arrive solo, what's got into him?" Stella's brow furrowed just a touch. She and Bradly had been engaged since childhood, but after her mother's passing, the Daniels family's status had tanked while the Woodard family kept climbing. That was when Nadine started pushing to scrap the arrangement, and she'd mentioned it more than a few times. But Chuck Woodard was upright and principled, flat-out refusing to play the social-climbing game. With Bradly dead set on marrying her and no one else, Nadine had reluctantly given in, though she made her resentment clear. Even after the marriage, she never passed up an opportunity to give Stella the cold shoulder. She was about to add something else when the butler rushed in and murmured, "He's here." Nadine promptly dropped the subject with Stella and jumped to her feet, the extended family hustling out right behind her to welcome the arrivals. The level of pomp surprised Stella. The Woodard family was already at the top of Ostralver's social elite. For them to pull out all the stops like this... Standing at the edge of the group, Stella glanced up and saw a black Maybach rolling up to the front of the estate. Someone hurried forward to open the door respectfully, and a tall, imposing figure stepped out unhurriedly. The man wore a sleek black suit, his chiseled features sharp, eyes as midnight, radiating a fierce intensity. Every gesture exuded a natural poise and authority that made it tough to hold his stare. The crowd swarmed forward in a rush, but he stayed cool and detached the whole time, his stunningly handsome face as impassive as carved ice, showing zero emotion. Then, as if picking up on something, he looked up toward Stella. Their eyes locked unexpectedly, sending her heart pounding. It was Milford Woodard, Bradly's brother. He'd returned to the country. Though they were brothers in name, Milford wasn't all that tight with the family. He'd headed overseas young and had spent years growing the business abroad. His father Edward Woodard was a total lightweight, good only at spending cash, not earning it. His grandpa Chuck had the smarts and drive, but age was catching up, leaving him unable to manage it all. Real power over the Woodard family had shifted to Milford ages ago. Stella let out a quiet breath. She thought, 'That explains the big crowd today. They've all turned out for Milford.' Chapter 6 Need Help? Stella lingered in the corner of the living room, watching the relatives descend like a swarm of locusts, all scrambling to surround Milford. Bradly stood next to Nadine, flashing a polished smile as he greeted, "Hey, Milford." The uncles who'd been buttering up Bradly just a minute ago quickly switched gears, beaming with over-the-top enthusiasm as they stepped up to say hello. "Milford, what prompted the sudden return?" "Milford, I hear you're in the middle of acquiring a domestic company? You're just getting more impressive by the day." "Come on inside, take a seat. We've got some top-shelf coffee." Bradly caught the stark contrast in the uncles' warmth, his smile fading briefly before he pulled it together and led the way forward. Stella quietly eyed the tall, strikingly handsome Milford striding into the living room like the star of the show, instinctively edging back a step. Now fully pushed to the fringes of the crowd, she shifted aside to let the trailing group pass, doing everything she could to blend into the wallpaper. Milford approached steadily. Unlike Bradly's flashy, outgoing vibe, he had a more brooding, aloof kind of handsomeness, like a pine tree blanketed in snow, regal and intimidating. He acknowledged the flattery around him with simple nods, his eyes scanning the room casually, subtly taking stock of everyone there. Until his gaze swept over Stella again, and he came to an abrupt halt. He paused, causing Bradly to stop too. "Something wrong, Milford?" Milford didn't respond, his steady gaze fixed on Stella. It was only a look, but it jolted her to her core. She felt an odd sense of being claimed, uninvited. Yet she'd barely crossed paths with Milford before. Bradly and the others traced his stare, his eyebrow quirking up. "Stella, come say hi to Big Milford." Stella started to step forward, but Milford beat her to it, walking straight toward her. Bradly and the rest exchanged surprised glances. So far, everyone had been approaching Milford. He hadn't initiated with a soul. Milford's deep eyes gave nothing away. "Stella?" Her breath hitched, like a faint breeze had brushed her ear. She hadn't anticipated him coming over to chat. It had been years, and they'd only met once or twice, but he still remembered her. Stella nodded. "Milford, it's been ages—" Before she could finish, Milford held out his hand. The move was so casual, so natural. Out of pure reflex and politeness, Stella extended hers, their palms connecting. In that brief clasp, she felt him squeeze gently, his thumb settling on her fingers and grazing them with a warm intensity. Milford released after just a second. Suddenly, Bradly sidled up, drawing Stella into his side with an arm around her waist, lacing his fingers through her left hand. He said, "Milford, how long are you in town this time? Stella and I can take you out to dinner one of these days." Milford took in their cozy pose, his glance dropping to their intertwined hands. "About a month." The words had barely left his mouth when Chuck came down the stairs, leaning on the butler for support. Milford headed over to talk with him. Not long after, the kitchen called that the party was ready. Stella trailed Bradly to their seats on the left side of the main table. Everyone filed in and sat. As the eldest branch, the two Woodard brothers took priority. Chuck claimed the head of the main table, with Nadine and Milford next in line. Stella and Bradly fell further down the order, landing her right across from Milford on the diagonal. The family feast got underway, with everyone firing questions at Milford about what he'd been up to lately. Stella kept her head down, nibbling at her food while catching bits of the conversation. Zrester bigwig, major stakeholder in Wonder Group, founder of that financial exchange and the smart transportation AI... Milford's credentials were endless and mind-blowing. She thought back to that Zrester party invite list she'd snagged years ago. Milford was third from the top, while she languished at the bottom. In all these years, she'd had next to no interaction with him. Right after the wedding, this mysterious Milford had only shown up once. He dropped off a gift and vanished. In just a handful of years, Milford had climbed to the pinnacle of Zrester's power players. His talent was obvious. Before long, the family party wound down, and folks scattered to grab desserts. Still hung up on that marriage license, Stella excused herself to head upstairs for a coat change. Bradly was itching to chat with Milford, his gaze fixed that way as he muttered distractedly, "Yeah, go on up." Stella wasted no time hustling upstairs. With the crowd milling about downstairs, she slipped to the third floor of the villa and nudged open Bradly's bedroom door. There it was: the glaring marriage license perched right on top of the nightstand, framed, flanked by their wedding portrait. As she stepped closer, memories of Bradly's cozy moments with Shanna flooded her brain, her nails digging slowly into her palm. That license seared her eyes, like it was sneering at her gullibility. She never should've caved, never should've handed Bradly a second shot. It just went to show that people's hearts circled back for seconds. Disgust flickered in her eyes as she hauled the desk's computer chair over, the kind with wheels and a swivel, shaky at best. She climbed onto it, planting one foot on the bed for stability, teetering just enough to hold steady. Stella hiked up her pearl-white knee-length dress a bit and stretched upward slowly. Fingers extended to the max, but she was still a couple inches shy. She rose onto her tiptoes, straining, but no dice. Frowning from her perch, she scanned around and snagged a book from beside the cabinet. As she leaned down, footsteps suddenly echoed outside the door. Fast, but measured. A man's, for sure. Her pulse spiked. She clutched the table, scrambling to hop down, but, perfect timing, her other sleeve caught on the cabinet's edge. She tugged frantically to break free, but it was too late to descend. The door flew open out of nowhere. Stella went rigid, her knees giving way as she toppled backward off the chair. A quick yelp escaped her, but the expected crash never hit. A firm hand latched precisely onto her thigh, another banding around her waist, hauling her into a solid hold and planting her feet firmly on the floor. She slammed into a warm, toned chest, a crisp, grounding sandalwood aroma enveloping her, not Bradly's scent. Stella glanced up, nearly clipping the guy's chin. Milford let go right away, backing off a step to give her space. Her cheeks burned, the thigh he'd gripped feeling like it was on fire. Mortified and frozen, she stammered, "Th-thanks." Milford stayed composed, his eyes skimming her flushed face and the pinkened patch of skin on her thigh from his hold. His Adam's apple dipped subtly. "Didn't realize you were in here. My bad." Stella shook her head, even more flustered. She was the one imposing on him. Milford flicked a glance upward. "Need some help?" She looked too. Up top, the marriage license screamed for attention. Chapter 7 Don't Let Me Hate You Stella just came out with it. "I want to get the marriage license down." Milford hesitated for a beat, without probing why she needed it, and slid the chair out of the way. Tall and long-limbed, he barely had to tip up on his toes to snag it effortlessly. Milford skimmed the lettering on the license, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes before the faintest quirk tugged at his lips, almost undetectable. He passed it over to Stella. "Ah, I see." She missed the words, taking it with a soft murmur: "Thanks, Milford." Her palms were slick with sweat now, but holding the certificate still sent an icy shiver through her. Those bold letters were a brutal reminder. This whole marriage had been one big joke. From beginning to end, Bradly's grand performance of undying love had always had a third wheel in the shadows. Milford dropped his gaze. Towering over her, all he could make out was the neat swirl at the top of her head, round and oddly appealing. Those slim, pale hands gripped the certificate like a vise, completely bloodless. Milford asked offhandedly, "So, what's the marriage license for?" "Oh, I just want to bring it home and store it there," Stella shot back, pulling an excuse out of thin air. Milford's stare felt like it enveloped her, the heat of it almost scorching, though he kept his hands to himself. Then he casually adjusted his cufflinks and turned to go. Stella let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, sagging against the cool cabinet. Her thigh still tingled with warmth from his grip; she quickly smoothed her skirt down, tucked the license into her bag, and only left the room once everything looked undisturbed. Bradly was still out in the back garden, deep in conversation. Stella kept her face neutral, strolling over to stand at his side. A few relatives were chatting with him. "Hey, word is Milford actually got back a couple days ago, but only tipped us off today." Bradly looked taken aback. "I thought he was flying in today?" "Nope, sounds like he hit up some auction. I only heard bits and pieces, supposedly the other night at the Empire Auction House." "He must not have gone. I was there that evening too, and I didn't see him anywhere," Bradly said, frowning in confusion. Stella's eyelashes flickered subtly, but she played it cool. Out of nowhere, her mind jumped back to that enigmatic bidder in suite 217. She wondered, 'Could Milford be the mystery guest who got the bracelet for me?' She shoved the thought down as soon as it surfaced. They'd only crossed paths once, total strangers really, connected by the flimsiest in-law tie. No matter how you sliced it, Milford wouldn't stick his neck out for her. Just like Bradly said, he hadn't caught wind of anything, so it couldn't be Milford. Stella let it go. After some more mingling, the group started to break up. Bradly steered her over to bid farewell to Milford. "Mom, Milford, we're taking off. Let's set up a family dinner soon when things settle." Milford slouched back in his chair with effortless nonchalance and gave a nod. "I'm knee-deep in an acquisition, no hurry on the get-together. But you..." He lifted his head, his expression sharpening. "Keep your life on the straight and narrow. Don't veer off track." The edge of warning in his voice was crystal clear. Bradly had grown up overshadowed by Milford; he went rigid but brushed it off casually. "Come on, everything's good. My company's running smooth as ever. If you're skeptical, drop by anytime and pore over the financials—knock yourself out." "It's not just about the company," Milford said softly, eyes down as he savored a sip of coffee. Stella couldn't help stealing a glance at him, and in that instant, a ridiculous idea struck her. From what Bradly had mentioned, Milford was abroad most of the time but still had the inside scoop on everything back home. She wondered, 'Does he know about the shady stuff Bradly is up to on the sly?' "Milford, I hear you. I'll make sure to nurture my marriage with Stella, our whole life together." Bradly grinned, threading his fingers through Stella's. Milford's gaze lingered on their joined hands for a second before drifting away, sealed with a subtle nod. Stella had no desire for any more close contact with Bradly, so she subtly shook his hand free without thinking. A split second later, his disbelieving stare locked onto her face, and he tried to grab her again. She'd known her move would humiliate him in the moment, so she didn't bother saying goodbye to Milford. She just turned and walked out ahead. Once they slid into the car, Bradly shed his polite, deferential mask from earlier, reverting to his entitled rich-kid swagger. He tugged his tie loose, a flicker of annoyance pinching his brows. "Always playing the big-brother card to chew me out, same crap since we were little. "So what if he's crushing it overseas? I'm holding my own just fine back home. Who in Ostralver would even think about messing with me?" Bradly fished out a menthol cigarette on autopilot, ready to light up, but he caught himself after glancing at Stella and shoved it back. He said, "All these years, folks have been whispering, or saying it straight to my face, that my company's thriving because of his pull. Like he's behind every damn thing. "And you? You flat-out refused to let me hold your hand back there. Trying to make me look like an idiot in front of him?" His expression iced over, the edge in his voice impossible to miss. Stella's frown deepened as she took it in. Even without knowing Milford all that well, she understood that Bradly's cocky antics in Ostralver, brushing people off like they were nothing, had always been propped up by Milford's clout. She'd assumed the brothers were tight, but clearly Bradly's respect was just for show; underneath, his grudge against Milford simmered deep. She could overlook a lot, but with things the way they were now, there was zero point in him putting on that phony hand-holding act. Stella gripped her bag, the one with the marriage license inside, and couldn't bite her tongue. "We haven't held hands in forever. It feels off to me." The car went dead quiet. She was right. Their physical closeness had dwindled so much that even she couldn't pinpoint the last time. Bradly's brow creased, and he snapped the cigarette filter clean off between his fingers. "What was that?" Stella met his eyes steadily. "From here on out, let's skip the pointless touchy-feely stuff. It just doesn't sit right." She hadn't even finished when the brakes screeched harshly. The car lurched to a halt on the empty shoulder of the road. Stella almost smacked into the window from the force, her pulse hammering as she barked, "Are you out of your mind?" Bradly loomed over her, fingers digging into her chin, irritation boiling in his glare. "Stella, do you have any idea what you're saying?" The pinch stung like crazy, and the absurdity of it all hit her as she wrestled to shove him off. "Is it not true? When's the last time we even held hands. Can you remember?" Bradly's gaze turned stormy, like she'd struck a raw spot. "I bet you're hung up on Milford, just like that girl from the second branch. That's why you pulled away in front of him. You're trying to cut ties with me?" "Bradly! What the hell are you babbling about?" Anger surged through her as she pushed harder. "Don't you dare pin your gross history on me!" The way the family had orbited Milford like he was the sun had obviously gotten under his skin. The more she resisted, the darker his look grew. Abruptly, he leaned in and smashed his mouth against hers. Stella's eyes flew wide, her head whipping aside to evade as she hammered at his shoulders with everything she had. He'd locked lips with Shanna god knows how often. The thought turned her stomach, so she clamped down and bit him hard. Bradly yelped in pain, jerking back as the fog cleared and he clocked what he'd just done, regret flashing across his face. Blood dotted his lip, but he brushed it off, lunging to wrap her in his arms. "I'm sorry, Stella, baby, I'm so sorry. I screwed up; it was a stupid impulse..." Drained of energy, Stella sagged into the passenger seat, letting him hold her while a barren wave of emptiness and revulsion washed over her. The hug she'd once melted into now repulsed her to her core. "Get off me." Her voice came out rough and scratchy. "Bradly, don't push me to hating you."
Chapter 1 Don't Want Him Anymore "I'm sorry, ma'am." On the other end of the line, the insurance customer service rep said coolly, "After checking our records, the car owner, Mr. Woodard, is indeed married, but the spouse listed here isn't you." Stella Daniels had gotten into a car accident on her way to the Woodard Group headquarters. She couldn't get through to Bradly Woodard on his phone, so she had no choice but to call the insurance company. The car was registered in Bradly's name, but as his wife, she should be able to process the claim too. "When Mr. Woodard picked up the car, he came with his wife and provided the original marriage license. Her last name is Erickson, and her full name is Shanna Erickson," the rep said. It hit Stella like a slap in the face. Dizziness washed over her in waves, leaving her whole body shaking uncontrollably. She and Bradly had been childhood sweethearts. Their families were old friends, and everyone in Ostralver's high society knew how clingy he was with her. Bradly couldn't stand being apart from her even for a single day. Three years ago, when Stella headed abroad for her studies, Bradly had the plane stopped just for her. During her three years in Ensland, he expanded his business overseas to make it easier to look after her. Sixteen thousand miles apart, he'd still fly across the ocean every week to see her. The year she came down with a severe lung illness and nearly didn't pull through, she spent a week in intensive care. Bradly ignored the infection risks and stayed right by her side, sliding a ring onto her finger. He said, "If anything happens to you, I'll go with you. We'll be husband and wife in the next life too." For Bradly's sake, she turned down her mentor's offer to stay on in the lab and headed back home. Brimming with excitement, she went to find him, planning to surprise him. But when she pushed open the door to the CEO's office, she saw a slender, pretty woman straddling his lap. The woman's innocent face tilted upward, her voice whiny and aggrieved. "Mr. Woodard, what happens to me now that Stella is back?" Bradly sat in his executive chair, his tall frame looming over her. A flash of ruthlessness crossed his stern features. "You? You're just her stand-in. Don't forget your place." He lifted his hand, pinching her delicate chin with a sneer. "Barely a three-out-of-ten resemblance, and you think you can compare to her?" Stella was still clutching the gift she'd prepared for him. With a loud "bang," it dropped to the floor, finally breaking the scene in the office. Bradly's face drained of color as he shoved the woman off and jumped to his feet. That woman was Shanna. After Stella caught them in the act, Bradly fired Shanna on the spot and pulled out all the stops to win her back. Bradly, the arrogant prince of Ostralver's elite circles, humbled himself to the dust before her, begging her to give him another chance. Any project she set her sights on, he'd drop without a second thought. He stood in the pouring rain outside her building for over a week, just for a glimpse of her. He said, "Stella, I'm not asking you to forgive me. At least let me explain. "I only ever saw Shanna as your replacement. You've been gone abroad for so long; I missed you terribly. I swear, I just kept her around. Nothing more ever happened between us. "That time you walked in, I'd had too much to drink, and she deliberately tempted me. I lost control for a moment... "I've already let her go, and she won't show up in our lives again. Stella, please, come back to me." Back then, Stella couldn't stand even the slightest betrayal. She insisted on breaking off the engagement. Until that one incident. She was kidnapped by a business rival. The kidnappers reneged on the deal, tied her up in an abandoned factory, and set the place ablaze. Bradly charged into the flames without a second thought to rescue her, shielding her from a collapsing steel beam. He ended up gravely injured, confined to bed for nearly six months. By risking his life, Bradly finally melted her resolve. Once he was out of the hospital, she accepted his proposal, and they threw a lavish wedding. In the two years since they tied the knot, he'd treated her just as devotedly as ever, with zero scandals. He even imposed a strict curfew on himself, heading home right on time every day. Even on out-of-town business trips, he'd video call her constantly. His partners would tease him about being henpecked. He never denied it. Instead, he'd grin proudly and say, "A real man takes care of his family." Memories rushed through Stella's mind like a whirlwind, every past moment flashing by in a blur. Her legs buckled, and she dropped to her knees, burying her face in her hands. She couldn't figure out which Bradly was the real one anymore. A bitter, mocking gleam sparked in her eyes. She thought, 'How absurd.' She'd been his wife for two years, and only now was she learning that even their marriage license had been a sham. Stella scrubbed her face hard, her bangs already soaked with cold sweat. She ignored the other driver's furious yelling and calmly dialed the police. They showed up fast. After finishing her statement, Stella left the station under a sky that had gone completely dark. Her phone lit up with several missed calls from Bradly. When she hadn't answered, he'd sent texts instead. Bradly: [Babe, I was tied up in a key meeting this afternoon. Signal jammers were on, so I missed your call. You okay?] Bradly: [I've got a client dinner tonight, so I'll be late getting home. I double-checked: no women involved, so no need to worry.] Bradly: [Head to bed early. Don't wait up. Love you.] Stella stared at the screen, a sharp wave of irony twisting in her gut. Bradly didn't stagger in until the wee hours. He reeked of alcohol, which almost, but not quite, masked the subtle whiff of perfume on him. "Honey..." He could barely keep his balance, stumbling over to wrap his arms around her through the blanket. "I missed you so damn much..." Stella didn't say a word. Only once he was dead to the world did she sit up quietly and unlock his phone with his fingerprint. The thing was squeaky clean, no suspicious traces at all. His contacts were mostly buddies and business folks, with hers pinned at the top as "Darling Wife." Flawlessly tidy, just like their sham of a marriage. Stella hooked the phone up to her computer, and it didn't take long to uncover his second WhatsApp account. She signed in, and right away, messages popped up from a profile with a cute pink kitten avatar, labeled "Baby." Shanna: [Bradly, thanks for tonight. Without you, I wouldn't have known what to do.] Shanna: [I've always thought meeting you was the luckiest thing that's ever happened to me. I won't intrude on your life. As long as you swing by to see me once in a while, that's enough to make me happy.] Stella scrolled back through the history. She'd suspected as much, but seeing it all laid out still hit her like a punch to the chest, leaving her breathless. They chatted nearly every day. Shanna never missed a good morning message, and Bradly's replies had shifted over time, from total silence at first, to sporadic responses, and now to answering every single one. A chill spread through her. Stella clutched the phone tighter, knowing she should quit while she was ahead but unable to stop herself from digging deeper. Shanna: [Bradly, sorry, I had a few drinks and lost it for a bit. Doc says I'm okay now, so don't stress.] Shanna: [Mrs. Woodard's birthday bash is important. Go enjoy it with her. I'll be fine.] Stella squeezed her eyes shut as the memory came rushing back. Her birthday. Bradly had spent over a month planning it down to the last detail, but that day, he was totally distracted. Hell, he almost cut his own hand while slicing the cake. When she'd asked what was up, he'd brushed it off as work drama, told her not to worry, then pulled her into a soft embrace and encouraged her to blow out the candles and make a wish. It all made sense now, as she stared at this chat log. That same day, Shanna had tried to kill herself by slashing her wrists and ended up in the ER. A sour bitterness flooded her chest like a rising tide. In those brief seconds when she'd closed her eyes to wish, she wondered, 'Was he agonizing over Shanna in the hospital, or picturing endless years together with her?' Stella knew she didn't need an answer to that anymore. She gently placed the phone back and looked down at Bradly, fast asleep beside her. She'd known him since she was four, and for the twenty years that followed, she'd truly believed his love was hers alone, irreplaceable. But now she saw it for what it was: just cheap free samples at a store, handed out to anyone who walked by. If that was all it amounted to, she was done with it. Chapter 2 Bid Against Her The next day, Stella woke to find Bradly busy in the kitchen, his broad shoulders narrowing to a slim waist, his tall, lean build moving with purpose. The sight hit her hard, a dull ache tightening in her chest. Bradly had learned to cook entirely for her sake. She still remembered that turbulent period when the Woodard Group was in crisis. His rivals had targeted her, paying off a servant to poison her food. She'd been unconscious for three full days. When she finally woke, Bradly was there, his eyes red-rimmed and veined with exhaustion, gripping her hand like a lifeline. The instant she stirred, the imposing Bradly crumbled forward, enveloping her in a hug as scalding tears fell onto her skin. From then on, Bradly threw himself into cooking lessons, taking charge of all her meals. In less than a month, he'd gone from a spoiled elite who couldn't distinguish spices to turning out dishes worthy of a Michelin chef. Just then, his phone rang. Stella glanced at it but made no move to answer. Bradly darted out of the kitchen, apron still on, grabbing the phone with a barely concealed flash of anxiety. Stella pretended not to notice and went to wash up. When she came back, the table was set with breakfast, and he was slipping into his suit jacket from the coat rack. Seeing her, he said gently, "There's an emergency at work. I have to run. Sorry I can't join you for breakfast." Stella murmured, "Sure, work comes first." He was clearly in a hurry, because he didn't pick up on the new edge of cool distance in her tone and rushed out. She stared blankly after him until he was gone, then dumped the entire spread into the trash. Then she picked up her phone and dialed a number. "That offer you made before? I'm on board." The person on the other end erupted in delight, chattering away before shifting to broken Andosa Language. "Stella, why the sudden change of heart? I've bugged you about this so many times, and you always said you were married now and focusing on family." A mocking glint flickered in Stella's eyes. She thought, 'Married? This so-called marriage has been dead on arrival.' The caller was her former mentor from her overseas studies. He'd reached out lately, hoping she'd join his new team and spearhead a major project. At the time, she'd kept saying no out of loyalty to Bradly. Now, she only wished she'd seen through the absurd joke of their marriage earlier. After the call, she contacted immigration to schedule a passport renewal. It would take about a week. But before heading out, she had one loose end to tie up. That evening, Stella showed up at a private auction at the Cloud Hotel. She was after one of her mother's keepsakes. Her mom had died when she was eight, and soon after, the Daniels family had liquidated her wedding gift. Stella had been hunting down the items ever since. Over the years, she'd only reclaimed a few. Tonight's auction featured a bracelet from that collection, one her mother had picked up on a trip to Ijance. It was utterly unique, irreplaceable. Whatever it took, she was getting it back. Stella settled into her seat just as the auction was about to start. She was flipping through the catalog when Bradly's voice floated over. "Didn't I already pick out that royal blue sapphire set for you? Not good enough?" His voice carried that familiar tenderness. Shanna linked her arm with his, pouting playfully. "Your taste sucks! I want to pick my own birthday gift." Stella watched them quietly until Bradly threaded through the guests and their gazes collided by chance. The color drained from his face. On pure reflex, he jerked his arm away from Shanna. "Stella." He strode over quickly. "I tried calling you a few times, but you didn't answer. Were you planning to surprise me?" Even though he tried to play it cool, she could still catch that subtle hint of panic in his expression. Stella didn't bother calling him on it, replying evenly, "My phone was on silent. I didn't hear it." Bradly visibly relaxed, casually taking her hand in his with a look of concern. "Your hands are like ice. Didn't I warn you about the cold snap today? You're always putting style over staying warm. If you catch a chill, you know it'll just kill me." As he talked, he signaled a server for a blanket and draped it snugly around her shoulders. Stella kept a straight face, brushing him off as she looked past him to Shanna, who lingered behind with a scowl. Shanna nibbled her lip, then defiantly dropped into the seat next to Bradly, her gaze simmering with irritation. Bradly leaned closer, dropping his voice to explain, "We just wrapped up a major project at the company, and Shanna pulled her weight big time. Her birthday's around the corner, so I thought I'd treat her to something as a project bonus." He eyed her anxiously. "Stella, you're not mad, right?" Shanna piped up in a soft, vulnerable tone. "Mrs. Woodard, if this upsets you, I'll just go. I don't want to get in the way of you and Mr. Woodard." Stella's mouth quirked into a smile that never touched her eyes. "We're married. A little thing like this? Of course it doesn't bother me." The auction got underway shortly after. Bradly treated Shanna like she was invisible, focusing entirely on Stella. He paged through the catalog, throwing in bids left and right. "Babe, this would look amazing on you." He grinned, tenderly brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his tone warm and intimate. "You'd be gorgeous in it." Stella averted her eyes, but out of the corner of her vision, she saw Shanna discreetly clutching the edge of Bradly's jacket in the dim light. Their gazes locked for a split second in a shared, lingering look. She masked the derision in her own eyes, struck by how absurd it all was. Bradly seemed totally at ease juggling both women, convinced he was keeping things balanced, one with the official status, the other with his undivided public attention. She thought, 'What could be fairer than that?' But Stella had never been interested in that kind of equilibrium. Her world extended far beyond romance. Bradly? He was just a small detour on her path, a misstep she'd own up to. And now, it was time to set things right. "Next up: a string of bracelet. Fine-grained texture, deep aroma that lingers. Starting bid at 170,000 dollars, with increments of at least 20,000 dollars!" The auctioneer's pumped-up voice echoed through the room. Finally, Stella's main target for the evening. Bids flew in fast, the screen flickering with updates as the auctioneer called out, "Number 17 lady at 200,000 dollars! Number 9 gentleman ups it to 260,000 dollars! Going higher?" Once the initial frenzy tapered off, Stella lifted her paddle. "500,000 dollars." She'd doubled the current bid in one go. It was a hefty amount. Sure, the bracelet was top-notch, but it wasn't the auction's highlight. The room went quiet after her call; no one countered. "Fantastic! Number 11 lady at 500,000 dollars! "500,000 dollars once! 500,000 dollars twice!" The auctioneer hoisted his gavel, poised to bring it down. "No more bids? Then 500,000 dollars—" "520,000 dollars," A gentle, hesitant voice interrupted. Shanna shrank against Bradly's side, paddle in hand, murmuring timidly to him, "Is this where I put in the amount?" Chapter 3 You're Dirty Stella frowned and raised her bid. "540,000 dollars." But Shanna was right behind her, countering with, "560,000 dollars." How annoyingly precise, each time, she stuck to the bare minimum, slapping on just 20,000 dollars more than Stella's offer. Shanna turned toward her, her voice dripping with plea. "Stella, you've got plenty of jewelry already. Please, let me have this one. I adore it. "I'm not like you, born with money, everything handed to you on a silver platter. You snap your fingers and get whatever you want. If it goes any higher, I really won't be able to keep up." Stella didn't bother looking at her, just quirking her lips in a thin smile. "Isn't Mr. Woodard covering the cost for you? What are you stressing about?" Shanna's face went a shade paler, but she answered in that soft, demure tone, "Even so, Mr. Woodard earns his money the hard way. If I can save him a bit, I ought to." She was the epitome of considerate and caring. After several more back-and-forth bids, the bracelet's price had soared to 700,000 dollars. Stella let out a chilly scoff and was opening her mouth to up the ante when Bradly beat her to it. He said, "Babe, why don't we just let Shanna take this bracelet?" Stella's fingers curled into a tight fist, her nails biting into her palm. She lifted her gaze, any lingering warmth in her eyes turning to ice. "What did you just say?" Bradly let out a resigned sigh, giving her hand a comforting pat as he murmured gently, "Babe, I already told Shanna she'd get a gift tonight, and she's got her heart set on this one. No need to compete with her. "Plus, I've already snagged you a handful of other pieces. Isn't that plenty?" He said it all lightly, teasingly, as if it were nothing more than a harmless quip. Stella shut her eyes, a nameless sourness creeping along her nerves, coiling around her heart until it felt like she couldn't draw a breath. Given Shanna's modest background, 700,000 dollars was way out of her league. She wouldn't even make the guest list here on her own. The only reason she was in that seat, trading bids blow for blow, was Bradly's backing. His pampering had delivered her straight into Stella's path. Stella whispered, "What if I refuse to back down?" She hoisted her paddle once more, her voice echoing through the room. "1 million dollars." A hush blanketed the hall. The auctioneer clearly picked up on the drama, his delivery faltering. "Number eleven at 1 million dollars. Do I hear higher?" Shanna's eyes welled up, on the verge of tears, as she cast a helpless look at Bradly before tacking on another fifty thousand. "1 million 20 thousand dollars." Stella's features hardened to frost, and she was poised to fire back when the manager bustled over, bending close to murmur, "Mrs. Woodard, apologies. We ran a credit verification on your account, and it's frozen. Got another one we can use?" The words slammed into her like a bolt from the blue, ringing in her ears. She snapped her head toward Bradly, but he'd already looked away. An icy numbness spread through her arms and legs. She though,t 'Of course, it has to be him.' Her primary account was linked with his; besides her, only he could authorize a freeze on her cards. Triumph flickered in Shanna's eyes as she added with a pointed edge, "Well, in that case, Mrs. Woodard, maybe it's time to step aside. You've got so much already. Can't you let me have this one little thing?" Up on stage, the auction rolled on, the display frozen on Shanna's latest bid: 1 million 20 thousand dollars. Shanna could hardly hide her glee, chirping sweetly, "Go on, call it!" But the words had barely left her lips when someone announced he would bid for the lot at any costs right in the second-floor VIP suite. After a momentary silence, the room burst into chaos. "He's declared absolute intent!" Even the auctioneer's expression changed. He'd been in the game for over a decade, but this was his first encounter with such a scenario. He hurriedly called out, "Lot number six goes to the gentleman in box 217, regardless of how high the price goes." Anyone up in those second-floor VIP suites was either swimming in money or held serious sway in Ostralver's upper crust. Stella glanced upward toward the source of the voice, catching only a vague outline behind the draped curtains. Even when she couldn't see his face, the man's crossed-legged posture radiated an unspoken dominance that pressed down on the room. The auctioneer slammed his gavel down with finality, proclaiming, "Congratulations to our esteemed guest in box 217 on winning lot number six! You're now upgraded to black gold status!" Across all of Ostralver's elite scene, fewer than a handful had ever hit black gold level at these events. Stella wondered, 'Just who is this mystery man?' Stella loosened her clenched fist slightly, torn between relief that her mother's heirloom hadn't landed in Shanna's clutches and anxiety over reclaiming it from this unknown figure. No matter what, she'd stop at nothing, pay any price, to bring her mother's possession home. She rose to her feet, intent on marching over to box 217 for a chat, when the attendant who'd just ducked inside reappeared, tray in hand with the bracelet. "What's this? The bidder in 217 having second thoughts?" "Auctions don't do take-backs." "Probably short on funds. I called it. No one's done this here before." As the murmurs swirled, the attendant headed straight for Stella, dipping into a courteous bow with a warm smile. She said, "Mrs. Woodard, the gentleman in box 217 requests that I deliver the bracelet to you as a gift. He wishes for you to follow your true path and for all to unfold as it should." The place erupted in gossip once more, with guests shooting glances her way, some envious, others skeptical, many flat-out stunned. "Isn't that Mrs. Woodard? What's her deal with the upstairs guy?" "Likely just buttering up Mr. Woodard." "Nah, I don't buy it. Out of all the goodies tonight, why zero in on those beads for Mrs. Woodard? Sounds like she's got a real connection there." The buzz filtered through, and Bradly's face turned stone-cold. In a tight, edged voice, he demanded, "Stella, what's the story with you and whoever's in box 217?" Stella held his piercing stare and said flatly, "I have no idea who he is." "!" Bradly jumped up, clamping down on her wrist like a vice. Her soft, fair skin reddened almost instantly under the pressure. Stella winced sharply, jerking her arm back on reflex. "Bradly, have you lost your mind? Haven't you stirred up enough drama for one day?" But he barreled on, blind to her fury, his reddened eyes locked on her as if he could swallow her up. "What's really between you two? "Stella, through all our married years, I've bent over backward for you. Anything you desired, I served it up without question. Why would you betray me like this?" In his mind, it was already a done deal: she was entangled in something shady with the man above. If the guy was angling for a favor from him, Bradly would've recognized him right away. People in Ostralver didn't beat around the bush when they needed something from him. They came direct. The jab landed raw and direct. Bradly blinked, frozen for a beat as a flicker of alarm shot through his eyes. Chapter 4 Don't Know You'd Come Bradly said, "I'm sorry, Stella. I didn't mean it like that. I had no right getting jealous over you and some stranger. It's all on me." Bradly's eyes reddened. "But honestly, there's nothing going on between Shanna and me. I just brought her along as a thank-you. Can you let this slide?" Seeing his cue, Shanna ducked her head meekly, her voice catching. "That's right, Mrs. Woodard. I've been bending over backward to keep my distance from Mr. Woodard so you wouldn't get the wrong impression. "I'm not asking for the world, just a decent birthday gift. I didn't grow up with your advantages; you've had everything handed to you and even snagged a catch like Mr. Woodard. Can't I at least pick out something for myself?" "Just a gift, huh?" Stella closed in on her, one step at a time. "Ms. Erickson, I've never given a damn about this 'gift' you're going on about. What gets under my skin is you, a Woodard Group employee, crossing lines you have no business crossing." As they drew closer, Bradly instinctively stepped in front of Shanna, his voice soft and coaxing. "Stella, if it's bugging you this much, I'll transfer her to a branch office once the auction's over. "But for now, cut me some slack. Let Shanna have the bracelet. When we get home, name your price on anything, and it's yours." Shanna bobbed her head in agreement, tears glistening on her lashes as she pleaded, "Stella, I really adore this bracelet. You've got it all already. Why go after the one thing I want? "Or is this just because you hate my guts and can't resist taking shots at me?" "What makes you think I'd ever like you?" Stella let out a cold snort. "This belonged to me from the start. Why the hell would I give it up?" She took the bracelet from the attendant with casual ease, her smile sharp but empty. "Ms. Erickson, know your place." Her refusal to budge finally wore through Bradly's patience, erasing every bit of softness from his face. "Stella, do you have to humiliate me like this in front of everyone? Where does that leave my dignity? "It's just a crappy old bracelet. Am I really worth less to you than some trinket?" He said it with such conviction, as if he'd wiped from his memory the solemn vow he'd made when proposing: that he'd hunt down every single one of her mother's sold-off keepsakes, no matter what. Stella's hand flew up, delivering a resounding slap across his cheek. The sharp crack rang out, pulling shocked stares from every corner of the room. Bradly's head snapped sideways, his face livid as he fixed her with a glare, his words hissing through clenched teeth. "Stella, drop the drama already. Have I pampered you too much these days, turning you into this unreasonable nightmare?" Stella reined in her temper, keeping her tone even. "Bradly, you better not live to regret today." Without another word, she turned and walked out, not sparing a backward glance. As her figure receded, Shanna gently touched the angry red mark on Bradly's cheek, her voice full of worry. "Mr. Woodard, are you okay? "Stella's got no boundaries. How could she hit you with all these people watching?" Bradly swatted her hand aside, his nails digging into his palm as he stared after her retreating path. "I've spoiled her rotten, letting her forget that everything she has comes from me." Shanna peeked at his changing expression, testing the waters. "Mr. Woodard, about the bracelet..." Bradly rubbed his throbbing cheek, pulled a bank card from his pocket, and handed it over. "1.7 million dollars on there. Buy whatever catches your eye." Box 217, Stella rapped on the door, eager to thank the mystery bidder face-to-face. Silence. She caught a server walking by. "Excuse me, any idea where the gentleman from this box headed?" "He slipped out right after nabbing the last item," the server said. Disappointment flashed in her eyes, but Stella pressed on, "Do you know who he was?" The server gave her a regretful smile. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard, we're not allowed to spill on our VIPs. Don't make this harder for us." Catching herself, Stella moved out of the way. "Thanks all the same." By the time she made it home from the auction, an hour had ticked by. Stella went straight up to the study, fired up the computer, and dove into the assets registered under her and Bradly's names. After tallying up the numbers, she snatched her phone, found lawyer Rubin Cobb's contact, and hit dial. She said, "I've sorted out the asset division documents for me and Bradly and sent them over. I need you to handle the property split by tomorrow." Rubin quickly received the files and nodded respectfully. "Of course, Mrs. Woodard. I'll get right on it." Stella stared intently at her computer screen, her grip tightening on the mouse. "If Bradly's committed bigamy, how should our assets be divided?" "Generally, any property the bigamous party gained through the bigamy can be claimed back by the other spouse," Rubin replied matter-of-factly. Half of Bradly's current wealth had come from Stella's investments to support his career early on. Her expression darkened, and she promptly forwarded the marriage license between him and Shanna. "Rubin, please use every legal avenue to recover my half of the assets." After hanging up, Stella slumped back in her chair, utterly drained physically and emotionally. She closed her eyes slowly, but sleep was nowhere in sight. Bradly would never agree to a divorce. Until she had everything locked down, she couldn't let on that anything was amiss. Just then, the study door was kicked open from the outside. Bradly flung his jacket onto the desk and yanked Stella up from her seat in front of the computer. "Do you realize that because of your little outburst, I've become a laughingstock in our circles? "What exactly do you want? Are you still obsessing over what happened back then?" Stella opened her eyes slowly, her gaze settling calmly on Bradly, but she remained silent. A fire raged in Bradly's chest, intensifying by the second, and he couldn't hold back his fury any longer. "Since we got married, have I ever done anything to wrong you? I come home right on time every night after work, I always fill you in on any business dinners, and if there's even a hint of a woman involved, I skip them entirely! I've bent over backward, and it's still not good enough for you?" He remembered every detail crystal clear. In his mind, these were the sacrifices he'd made to marry her. Stella suddenly found the whole thing absurd. She couldn't bear to look at him anymore, so she stood up and walked straight out of the study without a backward glance. Behind her, Bradly's voice echoed heavily. "Stella, no matter what you think, my conscience is clear." It felt like Stella's heart had been shattered into icy fragments, a sharp, bitter pain surging through her. Her mind buzzed, and for a moment, all she could hear was that phrase repeating over and over. She thought, 'My conscience is clear? So, in his eyes, everything he's done is perfectly justifiable.' The next morning, when Stella woke up, Bradly was already gone. On the table sat the breakfast he'd prepared, tailored exactly to her tastes. Stella pressed her lips together, her feelings a complicated tangle. They'd ended things on a sour note last night, yet Bradly had still made her breakfast this morning. But this was the same man who'd lied to her for years. No matter what, it was time to end things with Bradly. She didn't touch the food and headed straight to the office. These past few years, she'd stayed out of Bradly's business dealings. A lot of her old financial records were outdated now, and she needed the latest reports. The secretary looked startled when she saw her, then managed to say, "Mrs. Woodard, are you here to see Mr. Woodard?" "No." Stella replied evenly. "Send the finance manager in to see me." Her shares were second only to Bradly's, giving her full access to every aspect of the company. The secretary hesitated briefly before nodding. Stella noticed her immediately turning to make a phone call, probably alerting Bradly. Stella didn't intervene; let her. She settled into the finance office, sipping her coffee absentmindedly while flipping through magazines on the shelf. Most were glossy entertainment rags, mixed in with novels and comics. Stella frowned, only now picking up on the details: the desk was covered in a pink plaid mat, cluttered with adorable plush toys. The standout pair was a set of couple dolls, their outfits emblazoned with the letters W and E. It hit Stella suddenly what that meant, and just then, the door behind her swung open. Shanna rushed in. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard." She was clutching a cup of coffee as she apologized. "I had no idea you'd drop by like this..." Chapter 5 All For Milford Stella arched an eyebrow as she looked her over. "So you're the finance manager?" Shanna nodded with a quick smile. "That's me. If you need anything at all, just say the word. Bradly, well, Mr. Woodard is tied up in a meeting right now. But don't worry, I'll make sure to relay whatever message you have." Stella let out a soft laugh. "No need for that." She regarded Shanna with clear curiosity. "I'm not looking for Bradly. I'm here to see you." Shanna's smile faltered for a moment before she recovered, her tone turning gentle. "Mrs. Woodard, I get that you're still bothered by what went down at the auction last night, but there's no reason to be so worked up about my connection to Mr. Woodard. After all..." She raised her hand, the elegant diamond ring on her finger glinting under the light, perfectly complementing her bashful grin. "I'm already married, and things are great between me and my husband." Stella's eyes locked on the ring, her breath hitching just for an instant. It was ridiculous. In this whole messed-up situation, she was the one playing the role of the mistress. The ring was an exact match for the one Bradly had given her during his proposal. But within seconds, Stella averted her gaze. "It's a lovely ring, but you're mistaken." She spoke unhurriedly, "I'm just here to grab the latest financial report from you. That's all." Stella caught the sour shift in Shanna's expression and smiled to herself. "Seems like you're the one on edge here, Ms. Erickson." Shanna's face transformed completely, that smug spark in her eyes snuffed out. She bit her lip, unable to find words for a long beat. Stella watched her with unruffled poise. "Do I need to repeat my request, Ms. Erickson?" The words had barely left her mouth when Bradly burst in, his expression clouding over at the sight. "Stella, wasn't the scene from last night enough?" His voice was laced with ice. "How long are you planning to drag this out? I've told you already. There's nothing going on between me and Shanna. If you don't believe me..." Stella interrupted him mid-sentence, "Oh, I believe you. Absolutely." A faint smirk tugged at her lips, though her eyes remained frosty as they settled on Shanna. "After all, Ms. Erickson's already married. She just mentioned it herself." The statement landed like a bomb. Shanna's face drained of color, and Bradly's followed suit. He shot her a withering glare. Tears sprang to Shanna's eyes in an instant. Stella had no interest in watching the drama unfold any further. She said evenly, "I'm here for this year's financials. I hold forty percent of the company. Surely I can access that, right?" Bradly seemed to snap back to reality, nodding hastily. "Of course you can." He barked orders at the secretary to fetch it immediately, all the while stealing wary glances at her face. Once he confirmed she wasn't giving anything away, he exhaled almost imperceptibly in relief. He said, "Stella, what's with the sudden interest? You've never bothered with company matters before." Stella answered coolly, "After the account freeze last night, I decided it's smarter to set up a separate one." Bradly's expression froze again. "Stella..." The secretary returned promptly with the report. Stella brushed Bradly aside, skimmed through it quickly, and was heading for the door when he caught her by the wrist. He said, "Stella, about the family dinner tonight, are you coming home with me?" His tone was pleading, like he needed her answer to reassure himself that she hadn't caught on to anything fishy. Stella didn't look back, just replying calmly, "Sure." Bradly's face lit up. "Great, I'll swing by after work to pick you up." Stella dropped her gaze, masking the cool detachment in her eyes. She'd only agreed to head back to the family estate for one specific reason. The marriage license from when she and Bradly had tied the knot was a phony, but he'd made a whole production out of stashing it away at the house, claiming it had to be kept secure. Nothing could serve as stronger proof. Once she got her hands on it, his bigamy would be ironclad. Stella didn't bother waiting for Bradly; she hailed a cab and got there ahead of time. She'd figured it was just a standard family gathering, but she was caught off guard by the full turnout. Bradly's parents, fresh from their overseas vacation last week, were back, and even the distant relatives from the Woodard family's side branches had shown up en masse. "Stella, dear." As she walked in, Nadine Woodard peered over her shoulder. "Bradly didn't come with you?" Stella answered evenly, "He'll be along shortly." Nadine clicked her tongue, her irritation obvious. "On an important occasion like this, letting someone from outside the family arrive solo, what's got into him?" Stella's brow furrowed just a touch. She and Bradly had been engaged since childhood, but after her mother's passing, the Daniels family's status had tanked while the Woodard family kept climbing. That was when Nadine started pushing to scrap the arrangement, and she'd mentioned it more than a few times. But Chuck Woodard was upright and principled, flat-out refusing to play the social-climbing game. With Bradly dead set on marrying her and no one else, Nadine had reluctantly given in, though she made her resentment clear. Even after the marriage, she never passed up an opportunity to give Stella the cold shoulder. She was about to add something else when the butler rushed in and murmured, "He's here." Nadine promptly dropped the subject with Stella and jumped to her feet, the extended family hustling out right behind her to welcome the arrivals. The level of pomp surprised Stella. The Woodard family was already at the top of Ostralver's social elite. For them to pull out all the stops like this... Standing at the edge of the group, Stella glanced up and saw a black Maybach rolling up to the front of the estate. Someone hurried forward to open the door respectfully, and a tall, imposing figure stepped out unhurriedly. The man wore a sleek black suit, his chiseled features sharp, eyes as midnight, radiating a fierce intensity. Every gesture exuded a natural poise and authority that made it tough to hold his stare. The crowd swarmed forward in a rush, but he stayed cool and detached the whole time, his stunningly handsome face as impassive as carved ice, showing zero emotion. Then, as if picking up on something, he looked up toward Stella. Their eyes locked unexpectedly, sending her heart pounding. It was Milford Woodard, Bradly's brother. He'd returned to the country. Though they were brothers in name, Milford wasn't all that tight with the family. He'd headed overseas young and had spent years growing the business abroad. His father Edward Woodard was a total lightweight, good only at spending cash, not earning it. His grandpa Chuck had the smarts and drive, but age was catching up, leaving him unable to manage it all. Real power over the Woodard family had shifted to Milford ages ago. Stella let out a quiet breath. She thought, 'That explains the big crowd today. They've all turned out for Milford.' Chapter 6 Need Help? Stella lingered in the corner of the living room, watching the relatives descend like a swarm of locusts, all scrambling to surround Milford. Bradly stood next to Nadine, flashing a polished smile as he greeted, "Hey, Milford." The uncles who'd been buttering up Bradly just a minute ago quickly switched gears, beaming with over-the-top enthusiasm as they stepped up to say hello. "Milford, what prompted the sudden return?" "Milford, I hear you're in the middle of acquiring a domestic company? You're just getting more impressive by the day." "Come on inside, take a seat. We've got some top-shelf coffee." Bradly caught the stark contrast in the uncles' warmth, his smile fading briefly before he pulled it together and led the way forward. Stella quietly eyed the tall, strikingly handsome Milford striding into the living room like the star of the show, instinctively edging back a step. Now fully pushed to the fringes of the crowd, she shifted aside to let the trailing group pass, doing everything she could to blend into the wallpaper. Milford approached steadily. Unlike Bradly's flashy, outgoing vibe, he had a more brooding, aloof kind of handsomeness, like a pine tree blanketed in snow, regal and intimidating. He acknowledged the flattery around him with simple nods, his eyes scanning the room casually, subtly taking stock of everyone there. Until his gaze swept over Stella again, and he came to an abrupt halt. He paused, causing Bradly to stop too. "Something wrong, Milford?" Milford didn't respond, his steady gaze fixed on Stella. It was only a look, but it jolted her to her core. She felt an odd sense of being claimed, uninvited. Yet she'd barely crossed paths with Milford before. Bradly and the others traced his stare, his eyebrow quirking up. "Stella, come say hi to Big Milford." Stella started to step forward, but Milford beat her to it, walking straight toward her. Bradly and the rest exchanged surprised glances. So far, everyone had been approaching Milford. He hadn't initiated with a soul. Milford's deep eyes gave nothing away. "Stella?" Her breath hitched, like a faint breeze had brushed her ear. She hadn't anticipated him coming over to chat. It had been years, and they'd only met once or twice, but he still remembered her. Stella nodded. "Milford, it's been ages—" Before she could finish, Milford held out his hand. The move was so casual, so natural. Out of pure reflex and politeness, Stella extended hers, their palms connecting. In that brief clasp, she felt him squeeze gently, his thumb settling on her fingers and grazing them with a warm intensity. Milford released after just a second. Suddenly, Bradly sidled up, drawing Stella into his side with an arm around her waist, lacing his fingers through her left hand. He said, "Milford, how long are you in town this time? Stella and I can take you out to dinner one of these days." Milford took in their cozy pose, his glance dropping to their intertwined hands. "About a month." The words had barely left his mouth when Chuck came down the stairs, leaning on the butler for support. Milford headed over to talk with him. Not long after, the kitchen called that the party was ready. Stella trailed Bradly to their seats on the left side of the main table. Everyone filed in and sat. As the eldest branch, the two Woodard brothers took priority. Chuck claimed the head of the main table, with Nadine and Milford next in line. Stella and Bradly fell further down the order, landing her right across from Milford on the diagonal. The family feast got underway, with everyone firing questions at Milford about what he'd been up to lately. Stella kept her head down, nibbling at her food while catching bits of the conversation. Zrester bigwig, major stakeholder in Wonder Group, founder of that financial exchange and the smart transportation AI... Milford's credentials were endless and mind-blowing. She thought back to that Zrester party invite list she'd snagged years ago. Milford was third from the top, while she languished at the bottom. In all these years, she'd had next to no interaction with him. Right after the wedding, this mysterious Milford had only shown up once. He dropped off a gift and vanished. In just a handful of years, Milford had climbed to the pinnacle of Zrester's power players. His talent was obvious. Before long, the family party wound down, and folks scattered to grab desserts. Still hung up on that marriage license, Stella excused herself to head upstairs for a coat change. Bradly was itching to chat with Milford, his gaze fixed that way as he muttered distractedly, "Yeah, go on up." Stella wasted no time hustling upstairs. With the crowd milling about downstairs, she slipped to the third floor of the villa and nudged open Bradly's bedroom door. There it was: the glaring marriage license perched right on top of the nightstand, framed, flanked by their wedding portrait. As she stepped closer, memories of Bradly's cozy moments with Shanna flooded her brain, her nails digging slowly into her palm. That license seared her eyes, like it was sneering at her gullibility. She never should've caved, never should've handed Bradly a second shot. It just went to show that people's hearts circled back for seconds. Disgust flickered in her eyes as she hauled the desk's computer chair over, the kind with wheels and a swivel, shaky at best. She climbed onto it, planting one foot on the bed for stability, teetering just enough to hold steady. Stella hiked up her pearl-white knee-length dress a bit and stretched upward slowly. Fingers extended to the max, but she was still a couple inches shy. She rose onto her tiptoes, straining, but no dice. Frowning from her perch, she scanned around and snagged a book from beside the cabinet. As she leaned down, footsteps suddenly echoed outside the door. Fast, but measured. A man's, for sure. Her pulse spiked. She clutched the table, scrambling to hop down, but, perfect timing, her other sleeve caught on the cabinet's edge. She tugged frantically to break free, but it was too late to descend. The door flew open out of nowhere. Stella went rigid, her knees giving way as she toppled backward off the chair. A quick yelp escaped her, but the expected crash never hit. A firm hand latched precisely onto her thigh, another banding around her waist, hauling her into a solid hold and planting her feet firmly on the floor. She slammed into a warm, toned chest, a crisp, grounding sandalwood aroma enveloping her, not Bradly's scent. Stella glanced up, nearly clipping the guy's chin. Milford let go right away, backing off a step to give her space. Her cheeks burned, the thigh he'd gripped feeling like it was on fire. Mortified and frozen, she stammered, "Th-thanks." Milford stayed composed, his eyes skimming her flushed face and the pinkened patch of skin on her thigh from his hold. His Adam's apple dipped subtly. "Didn't realize you were in here. My bad." Stella shook her head, even more flustered. She was the one imposing on him. Milford flicked a glance upward. "Need some help?" She looked too. Up top, the marriage license screamed for attention. Chapter 7 Don't Let Me Hate You Stella just came out with it. "I want to get the marriage license down." Milford hesitated for a beat, without probing why she needed it, and slid the chair out of the way. Tall and long-limbed, he barely had to tip up on his toes to snag it effortlessly. Milford skimmed the lettering on the license, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes before the faintest quirk tugged at his lips, almost undetectable. He passed it over to Stella. "Ah, I see." She missed the words, taking it with a soft murmur: "Thanks, Milford." Her palms were slick with sweat now, but holding the certificate still sent an icy shiver through her. Those bold letters were a brutal reminder. This whole marriage had been one big joke. From beginning to end, Bradly's grand performance of undying love had always had a third wheel in the shadows. Milford dropped his gaze. Towering over her, all he could make out was the neat swirl at the top of her head, round and oddly appealing. Those slim, pale hands gripped the certificate like a vise, completely bloodless. Milford asked offhandedly, "So, what's the marriage license for?" "Oh, I just want to bring it home and store it there," Stella shot back, pulling an excuse out of thin air. Milford's stare felt like it enveloped her, the heat of it almost scorching, though he kept his hands to himself. Then he casually adjusted his cufflinks and turned to go. Stella let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, sagging against the cool cabinet. Her thigh still tingled with warmth from his grip; she quickly smoothed her skirt down, tucked the license into her bag, and only left the room once everything looked undisturbed. Bradly was still out in the back garden, deep in conversation. Stella kept her face neutral, strolling over to stand at his side. A few relatives were chatting with him. "Hey, word is Milford actually got back a couple days ago, but only tipped us off today." Bradly looked taken aback. "I thought he was flying in today?" "Nope, sounds like he hit up some auction. I only heard bits and pieces, supposedly the other night at the Empire Auction House." "He must not have gone. I was there that evening too, and I didn't see him anywhere," Bradly said, frowning in confusion. Stella's eyelashes flickered subtly, but she played it cool. Out of nowhere, her mind jumped back to that enigmatic bidder in suite 217. She wondered, 'Could Milford be the mystery guest who got the bracelet for me?' She shoved the thought down as soon as it surfaced. They'd only crossed paths once, total strangers really, connected by the flimsiest in-law tie. No matter how you sliced it, Milford wouldn't stick his neck out for her. Just like Bradly said, he hadn't caught wind of anything, so it couldn't be Milford. Stella let it go. After some more mingling, the group started to break up. Bradly steered her over to bid farewell to Milford. "Mom, Milford, we're taking off. Let's set up a family dinner soon when things settle." Milford slouched back in his chair with effortless nonchalance and gave a nod. "I'm knee-deep in an acquisition, no hurry on the get-together. But you..." He lifted his head, his expression sharpening. "Keep your life on the straight and narrow. Don't veer off track." The edge of warning in his voice was crystal clear. Bradly had grown up overshadowed by Milford; he went rigid but brushed it off casually. "Come on, everything's good. My company's running smooth as ever. If you're skeptical, drop by anytime and pore over the financials—knock yourself out." "It's not just about the company," Milford said softly, eyes down as he savored a sip of coffee. Stella couldn't help stealing a glance at him, and in that instant, a ridiculous idea struck her. From what Bradly had mentioned, Milford was abroad most of the time but still had the inside scoop on everything back home. She wondered, 'Does he know about the shady stuff Bradly is up to on the sly?' "Milford, I hear you. I'll make sure to nurture my marriage with Stella, our whole life together." Bradly grinned, threading his fingers through Stella's. Milford's gaze lingered on their joined hands for a second before drifting away, sealed with a subtle nod. Stella had no desire for any more close contact with Bradly, so she subtly shook his hand free without thinking. A split second later, his disbelieving stare locked onto her face, and he tried to grab her again. She'd known her move would humiliate him in the moment, so she didn't bother saying goodbye to Milford. She just turned and walked out ahead. Once they slid into the car, Bradly shed his polite, deferential mask from earlier, reverting to his entitled rich-kid swagger. He tugged his tie loose, a flicker of annoyance pinching his brows. "Always playing the big-brother card to chew me out, same crap since we were little. "So what if he's crushing it overseas? I'm holding my own just fine back home. Who in Ostralver would even think about messing with me?" Bradly fished out a menthol cigarette on autopilot, ready to light up, but he caught himself after glancing at Stella and shoved it back. He said, "All these years, folks have been whispering, or saying it straight to my face, that my company's thriving because of his pull. Like he's behind every damn thing. "And you? You flat-out refused to let me hold your hand back there. Trying to make me look like an idiot in front of him?" His expression iced over, the edge in his voice impossible to miss. Stella's frown deepened as she took it in. Even without knowing Milford all that well, she understood that Bradly's cocky antics in Ostralver, brushing people off like they were nothing, had always been propped up by Milford's clout. She'd assumed the brothers were tight, but clearly Bradly's respect was just for show; underneath, his grudge against Milford simmered deep. She could overlook a lot, but with things the way they were now, there was zero point in him putting on that phony hand-holding act. Stella gripped her bag, the one with the marriage license inside, and couldn't bite her tongue. "We haven't held hands in forever. It feels off to me." The car went dead quiet. She was right. Their physical closeness had dwindled so much that even she couldn't pinpoint the last time. Bradly's brow creased, and he snapped the cigarette filter clean off between his fingers. "What was that?" Stella met his eyes steadily. "From here on out, let's skip the pointless touchy-feely stuff. It just doesn't sit right." She hadn't even finished when the brakes screeched harshly. The car lurched to a halt on the empty shoulder of the road. Stella almost smacked into the window from the force, her pulse hammering as she barked, "Are you out of your mind?" Bradly loomed over her, fingers digging into her chin, irritation boiling in his glare. "Stella, do you have any idea what you're saying?" The pinch stung like crazy, and the absurdity of it all hit her as she wrestled to shove him off. "Is it not true? When's the last time we even held hands. Can you remember?" Bradly's gaze turned stormy, like she'd struck a raw spot. "I bet you're hung up on Milford, just like that girl from the second branch. That's why you pulled away in front of him. You're trying to cut ties with me?" "Bradly! What the hell are you babbling about?" Anger surged through her as she pushed harder. "Don't you dare pin your gross history on me!" The way the family had orbited Milford like he was the sun had obviously gotten under his skin. The more she resisted, the darker his look grew. Abruptly, he leaned in and smashed his mouth against hers. Stella's eyes flew wide, her head whipping aside to evade as she hammered at his shoulders with everything she had. He'd locked lips with Shanna god knows how often. The thought turned her stomach, so she clamped down and bit him hard. Bradly yelped in pain, jerking back as the fog cleared and he clocked what he'd just done, regret flashing across his face. Blood dotted his lip, but he brushed it off, lunging to wrap her in his arms. "I'm sorry, Stella, baby, I'm so sorry. I screwed up; it was a stupid impulse..." Drained of energy, Stella sagged into the passenger seat, letting him hold her while a barren wave of emptiness and revulsion washed over her. The hug she'd once melted into now repulsed her to her core. "Get off me." Her voice came out rough and scratchy. "Bradly, don't push me to hating you."
Chapter 1 Don't Want Him Anymore "I'm sorry, ma'am." On the other end of the line, the insurance customer service rep said coolly, "After checking our records, the car owner, Mr. Woodard, is indeed married, but the spouse listed here isn't you." Stella Daniels had gotten into a car accident on her way to the Woodard Group headquarters. She couldn't get through to Bradly Woodard on his phone, so she had no choice but to call the insurance company. The car was registered in Bradly's name, but as his wife, she should be able to process the claim too. "When Mr. Woodard picked up the car, he came with his wife and provided the original marriage license. Her last name is Erickson, and her full name is Shanna Erickson," the rep said. It hit Stella like a slap in the face. Dizziness washed over her in waves, leaving her whole body shaking uncontrollably. She and Bradly had been childhood sweethearts. Their families were old friends, and everyone in Ostralver's high society knew how clingy he was with her. Bradly couldn't stand being apart from her even for a single day. Three years ago, when Stella headed abroad for her studies, Bradly had the plane stopped just for her. During her three years in Ensland, he expanded his business overseas to make it easier to look after her. Sixteen thousand miles apart, he'd still fly across the ocean every week to see her. The year she came down with a severe lung illness and nearly didn't pull through, she spent a week in intensive care. Bradly ignored the infection risks and stayed right by her side, sliding a ring onto her finger. He said, "If anything happens to you, I'll go with you. We'll be husband and wife in the next life too." For Bradly's sake, she turned down her mentor's offer to stay on in the lab and headed back home. Brimming with excitement, she went to find him, planning to surprise him. But when she pushed open the door to the CEO's office, she saw a slender, pretty woman straddling his lap. The woman's innocent face tilted upward, her voice whiny and aggrieved. "Mr. Woodard, what happens to me now that Stella is back?" Bradly sat in his executive chair, his tall frame looming over her. A flash of ruthlessness crossed his stern features. "You? You're just her stand-in. Don't forget your place." He lifted his hand, pinching her delicate chin with a sneer. "Barely a three-out-of-ten resemblance, and you think you can compare to her?" Stella was still clutching the gift she'd prepared for him. With a loud "bang," it dropped to the floor, finally breaking the scene in the office. Bradly's face drained of color as he shoved the woman off and jumped to his feet. That woman was Shanna. After Stella caught them in the act, Bradly fired Shanna on the spot and pulled out all the stops to win her back. Bradly, the arrogant prince of Ostralver's elite circles, humbled himself to the dust before her, begging her to give him another chance. Any project she set her sights on, he'd drop without a second thought. He stood in the pouring rain outside her building for over a week, just for a glimpse of her. He said, "Stella, I'm not asking you to forgive me. At least let me explain. "I only ever saw Shanna as your replacement. You've been gone abroad for so long; I missed you terribly. I swear, I just kept her around. Nothing more ever happened between us. "That time you walked in, I'd had too much to drink, and she deliberately tempted me. I lost control for a moment... "I've already let her go, and she won't show up in our lives again. Stella, please, come back to me." Back then, Stella couldn't stand even the slightest betrayal. She insisted on breaking off the engagement. Until that one incident. She was kidnapped by a business rival. The kidnappers reneged on the deal, tied her up in an abandoned factory, and set the place ablaze. Bradly charged into the flames without a second thought to rescue her, shielding her from a collapsing steel beam. He ended up gravely injured, confined to bed for nearly six months. By risking his life, Bradly finally melted her resolve. Once he was out of the hospital, she accepted his proposal, and they threw a lavish wedding. In the two years since they tied the knot, he'd treated her just as devotedly as ever, with zero scandals. He even imposed a strict curfew on himself, heading home right on time every day. Even on out-of-town business trips, he'd video call her constantly. His partners would tease him about being henpecked. He never denied it. Instead, he'd grin proudly and say, "A real man takes care of his family." Memories rushed through Stella's mind like a whirlwind, every past moment flashing by in a blur. Her legs buckled, and she dropped to her knees, burying her face in her hands. She couldn't figure out which Bradly was the real one anymore. A bitter, mocking gleam sparked in her eyes. She thought, 'How absurd.' She'd been his wife for two years, and only now was she learning that even their marriage license had been a sham. Stella scrubbed her face hard, her bangs already soaked with cold sweat. She ignored the other driver's furious yelling and calmly dialed the police. They showed up fast. After finishing her statement, Stella left the station under a sky that had gone completely dark. Her phone lit up with several missed calls from Bradly. When she hadn't answered, he'd sent texts instead. Bradly: [Babe, I was tied up in a key meeting this afternoon. Signal jammers were on, so I missed your call. You okay?] Bradly: [I've got a client dinner tonight, so I'll be late getting home. I double-checked: no women involved, so no need to worry.] Bradly: [Head to bed early. Don't wait up. Love you.] Stella stared at the screen, a sharp wave of irony twisting in her gut. Bradly didn't stagger in until the wee hours. He reeked of alcohol, which almost, but not quite, masked the subtle whiff of perfume on him. "Honey..." He could barely keep his balance, stumbling over to wrap his arms around her through the blanket. "I missed you so damn much..." Stella didn't say a word. Only once he was dead to the world did she sit up quietly and unlock his phone with his fingerprint. The thing was squeaky clean, no suspicious traces at all. His contacts were mostly buddies and business folks, with hers pinned at the top as "Darling Wife." Flawlessly tidy, just like their sham of a marriage. Stella hooked the phone up to her computer, and it didn't take long to uncover his second WhatsApp account. She signed in, and right away, messages popped up from a profile with a cute pink kitten avatar, labeled "Baby." Shanna: [Bradly, thanks for tonight. Without you, I wouldn't have known what to do.] Shanna: [I've always thought meeting you was the luckiest thing that's ever happened to me. I won't intrude on your life. As long as you swing by to see me once in a while, that's enough to make me happy.] Stella scrolled back through the history. She'd suspected as much, but seeing it all laid out still hit her like a punch to the chest, leaving her breathless. They chatted nearly every day. Shanna never missed a good morning message, and Bradly's replies had shifted over time, from total silence at first, to sporadic responses, and now to answering every single one. A chill spread through her. Stella clutched the phone tighter, knowing she should quit while she was ahead but unable to stop herself from digging deeper. Shanna: [Bradly, sorry, I had a few drinks and lost it for a bit. Doc says I'm okay now, so don't stress.] Shanna: [Mrs. Woodard's birthday bash is important. Go enjoy it with her. I'll be fine.] Stella squeezed her eyes shut as the memory came rushing back. Her birthday. Bradly had spent over a month planning it down to the last detail, but that day, he was totally distracted. Hell, he almost cut his own hand while slicing the cake. When she'd asked what was up, he'd brushed it off as work drama, told her not to worry, then pulled her into a soft embrace and encouraged her to blow out the candles and make a wish. It all made sense now, as she stared at this chat log. That same day, Shanna had tried to kill herself by slashing her wrists and ended up in the ER. A sour bitterness flooded her chest like a rising tide. In those brief seconds when she'd closed her eyes to wish, she wondered, 'Was he agonizing over Shanna in the hospital, or picturing endless years together with her?' Stella knew she didn't need an answer to that anymore. She gently placed the phone back and looked down at Bradly, fast asleep beside her. She'd known him since she was four, and for the twenty years that followed, she'd truly believed his love was hers alone, irreplaceable. But now she saw it for what it was: just cheap free samples at a store, handed out to anyone who walked by. If that was all it amounted to, she was done with it. Chapter 2 Bid Against Her The next day, Stella woke to find Bradly busy in the kitchen, his broad shoulders narrowing to a slim waist, his tall, lean build moving with purpose. The sight hit her hard, a dull ache tightening in her chest. Bradly had learned to cook entirely for her sake. She still remembered that turbulent period when the Woodard Group was in crisis. His rivals had targeted her, paying off a servant to poison her food. She'd been unconscious for three full days. When she finally woke, Bradly was there, his eyes red-rimmed and veined with exhaustion, gripping her hand like a lifeline. The instant she stirred, the imposing Bradly crumbled forward, enveloping her in a hug as scalding tears fell onto her skin. From then on, Bradly threw himself into cooking lessons, taking charge of all her meals. In less than a month, he'd gone from a spoiled elite who couldn't distinguish spices to turning out dishes worthy of a Michelin chef. Just then, his phone rang. Stella glanced at it but made no move to answer. Bradly darted out of the kitchen, apron still on, grabbing the phone with a barely concealed flash of anxiety. Stella pretended not to notice and went to wash up. When she came back, the table was set with breakfast, and he was slipping into his suit jacket from the coat rack. Seeing her, he said gently, "There's an emergency at work. I have to run. Sorry I can't join you for breakfast." Stella murmured, "Sure, work comes first." He was clearly in a hurry, because he didn't pick up on the new edge of cool distance in her tone and rushed out. She stared blankly after him until he was gone, then dumped the entire spread into the trash. Then she picked up her phone and dialed a number. "That offer you made before? I'm on board." The person on the other end erupted in delight, chattering away before shifting to broken Andosa Language. "Stella, why the sudden change of heart? I've bugged you about this so many times, and you always said you were married now and focusing on family." A mocking glint flickered in Stella's eyes. She thought, 'Married? This so-called marriage has been dead on arrival.' The caller was her former mentor from her overseas studies. He'd reached out lately, hoping she'd join his new team and spearhead a major project. At the time, she'd kept saying no out of loyalty to Bradly. Now, she only wished she'd seen through the absurd joke of their marriage earlier. After the call, she contacted immigration to schedule a passport renewal. It would take about a week. But before heading out, she had one loose end to tie up. That evening, Stella showed up at a private auction at the Cloud Hotel. She was after one of her mother's keepsakes. Her mom had died when she was eight, and soon after, the Daniels family had liquidated her wedding gift. Stella had been hunting down the items ever since. Over the years, she'd only reclaimed a few. Tonight's auction featured a bracelet from that collection, one her mother had picked up on a trip to Ijance. It was utterly unique, irreplaceable. Whatever it took, she was getting it back. Stella settled into her seat just as the auction was about to start. She was flipping through the catalog when Bradly's voice floated over. "Didn't I already pick out that royal blue sapphire set for you? Not good enough?" His voice carried that familiar tenderness. Shanna linked her arm with his, pouting playfully. "Your taste sucks! I want to pick my own birthday gift." Stella watched them quietly until Bradly threaded through the guests and their gazes collided by chance. The color drained from his face. On pure reflex, he jerked his arm away from Shanna. "Stella." He strode over quickly. "I tried calling you a few times, but you didn't answer. Were you planning to surprise me?" Even though he tried to play it cool, she could still catch that subtle hint of panic in his expression. Stella didn't bother calling him on it, replying evenly, "My phone was on silent. I didn't hear it." Bradly visibly relaxed, casually taking her hand in his with a look of concern. "Your hands are like ice. Didn't I warn you about the cold snap today? You're always putting style over staying warm. If you catch a chill, you know it'll just kill me." As he talked, he signaled a server for a blanket and draped it snugly around her shoulders. Stella kept a straight face, brushing him off as she looked past him to Shanna, who lingered behind with a scowl. Shanna nibbled her lip, then defiantly dropped into the seat next to Bradly, her gaze simmering with irritation. Bradly leaned closer, dropping his voice to explain, "We just wrapped up a major project at the company, and Shanna pulled her weight big time. Her birthday's around the corner, so I thought I'd treat her to something as a project bonus." He eyed her anxiously. "Stella, you're not mad, right?" Shanna piped up in a soft, vulnerable tone. "Mrs. Woodard, if this upsets you, I'll just go. I don't want to get in the way of you and Mr. Woodard." Stella's mouth quirked into a smile that never touched her eyes. "We're married. A little thing like this? Of course it doesn't bother me." The auction got underway shortly after. Bradly treated Shanna like she was invisible, focusing entirely on Stella. He paged through the catalog, throwing in bids left and right. "Babe, this would look amazing on you." He grinned, tenderly brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his tone warm and intimate. "You'd be gorgeous in it." Stella averted her eyes, but out of the corner of her vision, she saw Shanna discreetly clutching the edge of Bradly's jacket in the dim light. Their gazes locked for a split second in a shared, lingering look. She masked the derision in her own eyes, struck by how absurd it all was. Bradly seemed totally at ease juggling both women, convinced he was keeping things balanced, one with the official status, the other with his undivided public attention. She thought, 'What could be fairer than that?' But Stella had never been interested in that kind of equilibrium. Her world extended far beyond romance. Bradly? He was just a small detour on her path, a misstep she'd own up to. And now, it was time to set things right. "Next up: a string of bracelet. Fine-grained texture, deep aroma that lingers. Starting bid at 170,000 dollars, with increments of at least 20,000 dollars!" The auctioneer's pumped-up voice echoed through the room. Finally, Stella's main target for the evening. Bids flew in fast, the screen flickering with updates as the auctioneer called out, "Number 17 lady at 200,000 dollars! Number 9 gentleman ups it to 260,000 dollars! Going higher?" Once the initial frenzy tapered off, Stella lifted her paddle. "500,000 dollars." She'd doubled the current bid in one go. It was a hefty amount. Sure, the bracelet was top-notch, but it wasn't the auction's highlight. The room went quiet after her call; no one countered. "Fantastic! Number 11 lady at 500,000 dollars! "500,000 dollars once! 500,000 dollars twice!" The auctioneer hoisted his gavel, poised to bring it down. "No more bids? Then 500,000 dollars—" "520,000 dollars," A gentle, hesitant voice interrupted. Shanna shrank against Bradly's side, paddle in hand, murmuring timidly to him, "Is this where I put in the amount?" Chapter 3 You're Dirty Stella frowned and raised her bid. "540,000 dollars." But Shanna was right behind her, countering with, "560,000 dollars." How annoyingly precise, each time, she stuck to the bare minimum, slapping on just 20,000 dollars more than Stella's offer. Shanna turned toward her, her voice dripping with plea. "Stella, you've got plenty of jewelry already. Please, let me have this one. I adore it. "I'm not like you, born with money, everything handed to you on a silver platter. You snap your fingers and get whatever you want. If it goes any higher, I really won't be able to keep up." Stella didn't bother looking at her, just quirking her lips in a thin smile. "Isn't Mr. Woodard covering the cost for you? What are you stressing about?" Shanna's face went a shade paler, but she answered in that soft, demure tone, "Even so, Mr. Woodard earns his money the hard way. If I can save him a bit, I ought to." She was the epitome of considerate and caring. After several more back-and-forth bids, the bracelet's price had soared to 700,000 dollars. Stella let out a chilly scoff and was opening her mouth to up the ante when Bradly beat her to it. He said, "Babe, why don't we just let Shanna take this bracelet?" Stella's fingers curled into a tight fist, her nails biting into her palm. She lifted her gaze, any lingering warmth in her eyes turning to ice. "What did you just say?" Bradly let out a resigned sigh, giving her hand a comforting pat as he murmured gently, "Babe, I already told Shanna she'd get a gift tonight, and she's got her heart set on this one. No need to compete with her. "Plus, I've already snagged you a handful of other pieces. Isn't that plenty?" He said it all lightly, teasingly, as if it were nothing more than a harmless quip. Stella shut her eyes, a nameless sourness creeping along her nerves, coiling around her heart until it felt like she couldn't draw a breath. Given Shanna's modest background, 700,000 dollars was way out of her league. She wouldn't even make the guest list here on her own. The only reason she was in that seat, trading bids blow for blow, was Bradly's backing. His pampering had delivered her straight into Stella's path. Stella whispered, "What if I refuse to back down?" She hoisted her paddle once more, her voice echoing through the room. "1 million dollars." A hush blanketed the hall. The auctioneer clearly picked up on the drama, his delivery faltering. "Number eleven at 1 million dollars. Do I hear higher?" Shanna's eyes welled up, on the verge of tears, as she cast a helpless look at Bradly before tacking on another fifty thousand. "1 million 20 thousand dollars." Stella's features hardened to frost, and she was poised to fire back when the manager bustled over, bending close to murmur, "Mrs. Woodard, apologies. We ran a credit verification on your account, and it's frozen. Got another one we can use?" The words slammed into her like a bolt from the blue, ringing in her ears. She snapped her head toward Bradly, but he'd already looked away. An icy numbness spread through her arms and legs. She though,t 'Of course, it has to be him.' Her primary account was linked with his; besides her, only he could authorize a freeze on her cards. Triumph flickered in Shanna's eyes as she added with a pointed edge, "Well, in that case, Mrs. Woodard, maybe it's time to step aside. You've got so much already. Can't you let me have this one little thing?" Up on stage, the auction rolled on, the display frozen on Shanna's latest bid: 1 million 20 thousand dollars. Shanna could hardly hide her glee, chirping sweetly, "Go on, call it!" But the words had barely left her lips when someone announced he would bid for the lot at any costs right in the second-floor VIP suite. After a momentary silence, the room burst into chaos. "He's declared absolute intent!" Even the auctioneer's expression changed. He'd been in the game for over a decade, but this was his first encounter with such a scenario. He hurriedly called out, "Lot number six goes to the gentleman in box 217, regardless of how high the price goes." Anyone up in those second-floor VIP suites was either swimming in money or held serious sway in Ostralver's upper crust. Stella glanced upward toward the source of the voice, catching only a vague outline behind the draped curtains. Even when she couldn't see his face, the man's crossed-legged posture radiated an unspoken dominance that pressed down on the room. The auctioneer slammed his gavel down with finality, proclaiming, "Congratulations to our esteemed guest in box 217 on winning lot number six! You're now upgraded to black gold status!" Across all of Ostralver's elite scene, fewer than a handful had ever hit black gold level at these events. Stella wondered, 'Just who is this mystery man?' Stella loosened her clenched fist slightly, torn between relief that her mother's heirloom hadn't landed in Shanna's clutches and anxiety over reclaiming it from this unknown figure. No matter what, she'd stop at nothing, pay any price, to bring her mother's possession home. She rose to her feet, intent on marching over to box 217 for a chat, when the attendant who'd just ducked inside reappeared, tray in hand with the bracelet. "What's this? The bidder in 217 having second thoughts?" "Auctions don't do take-backs." "Probably short on funds. I called it. No one's done this here before." As the murmurs swirled, the attendant headed straight for Stella, dipping into a courteous bow with a warm smile. She said, "Mrs. Woodard, the gentleman in box 217 requests that I deliver the bracelet to you as a gift. He wishes for you to follow your true path and for all to unfold as it should." The place erupted in gossip once more, with guests shooting glances her way, some envious, others skeptical, many flat-out stunned. "Isn't that Mrs. Woodard? What's her deal with the upstairs guy?" "Likely just buttering up Mr. Woodard." "Nah, I don't buy it. Out of all the goodies tonight, why zero in on those beads for Mrs. Woodard? Sounds like she's got a real connection there." The buzz filtered through, and Bradly's face turned stone-cold. In a tight, edged voice, he demanded, "Stella, what's the story with you and whoever's in box 217?" Stella held his piercing stare and said flatly, "I have no idea who he is." "!" Bradly jumped up, clamping down on her wrist like a vice. Her soft, fair skin reddened almost instantly under the pressure. Stella winced sharply, jerking her arm back on reflex. "Bradly, have you lost your mind? Haven't you stirred up enough drama for one day?" But he barreled on, blind to her fury, his reddened eyes locked on her as if he could swallow her up. "What's really between you two? "Stella, through all our married years, I've bent over backward for you. Anything you desired, I served it up without question. Why would you betray me like this?" In his mind, it was already a done deal: she was entangled in something shady with the man above. If the guy was angling for a favor from him, Bradly would've recognized him right away. People in Ostralver didn't beat around the bush when they needed something from him. They came direct. The jab landed raw and direct. Bradly blinked, frozen for a beat as a flicker of alarm shot through his eyes. Chapter 4 Don't Know You'd Come Bradly said, "I'm sorry, Stella. I didn't mean it like that. I had no right getting jealous over you and some stranger. It's all on me." Bradly's eyes reddened. "But honestly, there's nothing going on between Shanna and me. I just brought her along as a thank-you. Can you let this slide?" Seeing his cue, Shanna ducked her head meekly, her voice catching. "That's right, Mrs. Woodard. I've been bending over backward to keep my distance from Mr. Woodard so you wouldn't get the wrong impression. "I'm not asking for the world, just a decent birthday gift. I didn't grow up with your advantages; you've had everything handed to you and even snagged a catch like Mr. Woodard. Can't I at least pick out something for myself?" "Just a gift, huh?" Stella closed in on her, one step at a time. "Ms. Erickson, I've never given a damn about this 'gift' you're going on about. What gets under my skin is you, a Woodard Group employee, crossing lines you have no business crossing." As they drew closer, Bradly instinctively stepped in front of Shanna, his voice soft and coaxing. "Stella, if it's bugging you this much, I'll transfer her to a branch office once the auction's over. "But for now, cut me some slack. Let Shanna have the bracelet. When we get home, name your price on anything, and it's yours." Shanna bobbed her head in agreement, tears glistening on her lashes as she pleaded, "Stella, I really adore this bracelet. You've got it all already. Why go after the one thing I want? "Or is this just because you hate my guts and can't resist taking shots at me?" "What makes you think I'd ever like you?" Stella let out a cold snort. "This belonged to me from the start. Why the hell would I give it up?" She took the bracelet from the attendant with casual ease, her smile sharp but empty. "Ms. Erickson, know your place." Her refusal to budge finally wore through Bradly's patience, erasing every bit of softness from his face. "Stella, do you have to humiliate me like this in front of everyone? Where does that leave my dignity? "It's just a crappy old bracelet. Am I really worth less to you than some trinket?" He said it with such conviction, as if he'd wiped from his memory the solemn vow he'd made when proposing: that he'd hunt down every single one of her mother's sold-off keepsakes, no matter what. Stella's hand flew up, delivering a resounding slap across his cheek. The sharp crack rang out, pulling shocked stares from every corner of the room. Bradly's head snapped sideways, his face livid as he fixed her with a glare, his words hissing through clenched teeth. "Stella, drop the drama already. Have I pampered you too much these days, turning you into this unreasonable nightmare?" Stella reined in her temper, keeping her tone even. "Bradly, you better not live to regret today." Without another word, she turned and walked out, not sparing a backward glance. As her figure receded, Shanna gently touched the angry red mark on Bradly's cheek, her voice full of worry. "Mr. Woodard, are you okay? "Stella's got no boundaries. How could she hit you with all these people watching?" Bradly swatted her hand aside, his nails digging into his palm as he stared after her retreating path. "I've spoiled her rotten, letting her forget that everything she has comes from me." Shanna peeked at his changing expression, testing the waters. "Mr. Woodard, about the bracelet..." Bradly rubbed his throbbing cheek, pulled a bank card from his pocket, and handed it over. "1.7 million dollars on there. Buy whatever catches your eye." Box 217, Stella rapped on the door, eager to thank the mystery bidder face-to-face. Silence. She caught a server walking by. "Excuse me, any idea where the gentleman from this box headed?" "He slipped out right after nabbing the last item," the server said. Disappointment flashed in her eyes, but Stella pressed on, "Do you know who he was?" The server gave her a regretful smile. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard, we're not allowed to spill on our VIPs. Don't make this harder for us." Catching herself, Stella moved out of the way. "Thanks all the same." By the time she made it home from the auction, an hour had ticked by. Stella went straight up to the study, fired up the computer, and dove into the assets registered under her and Bradly's names. After tallying up the numbers, she snatched her phone, found lawyer Rubin Cobb's contact, and hit dial. She said, "I've sorted out the asset division documents for me and Bradly and sent them over. I need you to handle the property split by tomorrow." Rubin quickly received the files and nodded respectfully. "Of course, Mrs. Woodard. I'll get right on it." Stella stared intently at her computer screen, her grip tightening on the mouse. "If Bradly's committed bigamy, how should our assets be divided?" "Generally, any property the bigamous party gained through the bigamy can be claimed back by the other spouse," Rubin replied matter-of-factly. Half of Bradly's current wealth had come from Stella's investments to support his career early on. Her expression darkened, and she promptly forwarded the marriage license between him and Shanna. "Rubin, please use every legal avenue to recover my half of the assets." After hanging up, Stella slumped back in her chair, utterly drained physically and emotionally. She closed her eyes slowly, but sleep was nowhere in sight. Bradly would never agree to a divorce. Until she had everything locked down, she couldn't let on that anything was amiss. Just then, the study door was kicked open from the outside. Bradly flung his jacket onto the desk and yanked Stella up from her seat in front of the computer. "Do you realize that because of your little outburst, I've become a laughingstock in our circles? "What exactly do you want? Are you still obsessing over what happened back then?" Stella opened her eyes slowly, her gaze settling calmly on Bradly, but she remained silent. A fire raged in Bradly's chest, intensifying by the second, and he couldn't hold back his fury any longer. "Since we got married, have I ever done anything to wrong you? I come home right on time every night after work, I always fill you in on any business dinners, and if there's even a hint of a woman involved, I skip them entirely! I've bent over backward, and it's still not good enough for you?" He remembered every detail crystal clear. In his mind, these were the sacrifices he'd made to marry her. Stella suddenly found the whole thing absurd. She couldn't bear to look at him anymore, so she stood up and walked straight out of the study without a backward glance. Behind her, Bradly's voice echoed heavily. "Stella, no matter what you think, my conscience is clear." It felt like Stella's heart had been shattered into icy fragments, a sharp, bitter pain surging through her. Her mind buzzed, and for a moment, all she could hear was that phrase repeating over and over. She thought, 'My conscience is clear? So, in his eyes, everything he's done is perfectly justifiable.' The next morning, when Stella woke up, Bradly was already gone. On the table sat the breakfast he'd prepared, tailored exactly to her tastes. Stella pressed her lips together, her feelings a complicated tangle. They'd ended things on a sour note last night, yet Bradly had still made her breakfast this morning. But this was the same man who'd lied to her for years. No matter what, it was time to end things with Bradly. She didn't touch the food and headed straight to the office. These past few years, she'd stayed out of Bradly's business dealings. A lot of her old financial records were outdated now, and she needed the latest reports. The secretary looked startled when she saw her, then managed to say, "Mrs. Woodard, are you here to see Mr. Woodard?" "No." Stella replied evenly. "Send the finance manager in to see me." Her shares were second only to Bradly's, giving her full access to every aspect of the company. The secretary hesitated briefly before nodding. Stella noticed her immediately turning to make a phone call, probably alerting Bradly. Stella didn't intervene; let her. She settled into the finance office, sipping her coffee absentmindedly while flipping through magazines on the shelf. Most were glossy entertainment rags, mixed in with novels and comics. Stella frowned, only now picking up on the details: the desk was covered in a pink plaid mat, cluttered with adorable plush toys. The standout pair was a set of couple dolls, their outfits emblazoned with the letters W and E. It hit Stella suddenly what that meant, and just then, the door behind her swung open. Shanna rushed in. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard." She was clutching a cup of coffee as she apologized. "I had no idea you'd drop by like this..." Chapter 5 All For Milford Stella arched an eyebrow as she looked her over. "So you're the finance manager?" Shanna nodded with a quick smile. "That's me. If you need anything at all, just say the word. Bradly, well, Mr. Woodard is tied up in a meeting right now. But don't worry, I'll make sure to relay whatever message you have." Stella let out a soft laugh. "No need for that." She regarded Shanna with clear curiosity. "I'm not looking for Bradly. I'm here to see you." Shanna's smile faltered for a moment before she recovered, her tone turning gentle. "Mrs. Woodard, I get that you're still bothered by what went down at the auction last night, but there's no reason to be so worked up about my connection to Mr. Woodard. After all..." She raised her hand, the elegant diamond ring on her finger glinting under the light, perfectly complementing her bashful grin. "I'm already married, and things are great between me and my husband." Stella's eyes locked on the ring, her breath hitching just for an instant. It was ridiculous. In this whole messed-up situation, she was the one playing the role of the mistress. The ring was an exact match for the one Bradly had given her during his proposal. But within seconds, Stella averted her gaze. "It's a lovely ring, but you're mistaken." She spoke unhurriedly, "I'm just here to grab the latest financial report from you. That's all." Stella caught the sour shift in Shanna's expression and smiled to herself. "Seems like you're the one on edge here, Ms. Erickson." Shanna's face transformed completely, that smug spark in her eyes snuffed out. She bit her lip, unable to find words for a long beat. Stella watched her with unruffled poise. "Do I need to repeat my request, Ms. Erickson?" The words had barely left her mouth when Bradly burst in, his expression clouding over at the sight. "Stella, wasn't the scene from last night enough?" His voice was laced with ice. "How long are you planning to drag this out? I've told you already. There's nothing going on between me and Shanna. If you don't believe me..." Stella interrupted him mid-sentence, "Oh, I believe you. Absolutely." A faint smirk tugged at her lips, though her eyes remained frosty as they settled on Shanna. "After all, Ms. Erickson's already married. She just mentioned it herself." The statement landed like a bomb. Shanna's face drained of color, and Bradly's followed suit. He shot her a withering glare. Tears sprang to Shanna's eyes in an instant. Stella had no interest in watching the drama unfold any further. She said evenly, "I'm here for this year's financials. I hold forty percent of the company. Surely I can access that, right?" Bradly seemed to snap back to reality, nodding hastily. "Of course you can." He barked orders at the secretary to fetch it immediately, all the while stealing wary glances at her face. Once he confirmed she wasn't giving anything away, he exhaled almost imperceptibly in relief. He said, "Stella, what's with the sudden interest? You've never bothered with company matters before." Stella answered coolly, "After the account freeze last night, I decided it's smarter to set up a separate one." Bradly's expression froze again. "Stella..." The secretary returned promptly with the report. Stella brushed Bradly aside, skimmed through it quickly, and was heading for the door when he caught her by the wrist. He said, "Stella, about the family dinner tonight, are you coming home with me?" His tone was pleading, like he needed her answer to reassure himself that she hadn't caught on to anything fishy. Stella didn't look back, just replying calmly, "Sure." Bradly's face lit up. "Great, I'll swing by after work to pick you up." Stella dropped her gaze, masking the cool detachment in her eyes. She'd only agreed to head back to the family estate for one specific reason. The marriage license from when she and Bradly had tied the knot was a phony, but he'd made a whole production out of stashing it away at the house, claiming it had to be kept secure. Nothing could serve as stronger proof. Once she got her hands on it, his bigamy would be ironclad. Stella didn't bother waiting for Bradly; she hailed a cab and got there ahead of time. She'd figured it was just a standard family gathering, but she was caught off guard by the full turnout. Bradly's parents, fresh from their overseas vacation last week, were back, and even the distant relatives from the Woodard family's side branches had shown up en masse. "Stella, dear." As she walked in, Nadine Woodard peered over her shoulder. "Bradly didn't come with you?" Stella answered evenly, "He'll be along shortly." Nadine clicked her tongue, her irritation obvious. "On an important occasion like this, letting someone from outside the family arrive solo, what's got into him?" Stella's brow furrowed just a touch. She and Bradly had been engaged since childhood, but after her mother's passing, the Daniels family's status had tanked while the Woodard family kept climbing. That was when Nadine started pushing to scrap the arrangement, and she'd mentioned it more than a few times. But Chuck Woodard was upright and principled, flat-out refusing to play the social-climbing game. With Bradly dead set on marrying her and no one else, Nadine had reluctantly given in, though she made her resentment clear. Even after the marriage, she never passed up an opportunity to give Stella the cold shoulder. She was about to add something else when the butler rushed in and murmured, "He's here." Nadine promptly dropped the subject with Stella and jumped to her feet, the extended family hustling out right behind her to welcome the arrivals. The level of pomp surprised Stella. The Woodard family was already at the top of Ostralver's social elite. For them to pull out all the stops like this... Standing at the edge of the group, Stella glanced up and saw a black Maybach rolling up to the front of the estate. Someone hurried forward to open the door respectfully, and a tall, imposing figure stepped out unhurriedly. The man wore a sleek black suit, his chiseled features sharp, eyes as midnight, radiating a fierce intensity. Every gesture exuded a natural poise and authority that made it tough to hold his stare. The crowd swarmed forward in a rush, but he stayed cool and detached the whole time, his stunningly handsome face as impassive as carved ice, showing zero emotion. Then, as if picking up on something, he looked up toward Stella. Their eyes locked unexpectedly, sending her heart pounding. It was Milford Woodard, Bradly's brother. He'd returned to the country. Though they were brothers in name, Milford wasn't all that tight with the family. He'd headed overseas young and had spent years growing the business abroad. His father Edward Woodard was a total lightweight, good only at spending cash, not earning it. His grandpa Chuck had the smarts and drive, but age was catching up, leaving him unable to manage it all. Real power over the Woodard family had shifted to Milford ages ago. Stella let out a quiet breath. She thought, 'That explains the big crowd today. They've all turned out for Milford.' Chapter 6 Need Help? Stella lingered in the corner of the living room, watching the relatives descend like a swarm of locusts, all scrambling to surround Milford. Bradly stood next to Nadine, flashing a polished smile as he greeted, "Hey, Milford." The uncles who'd been buttering up Bradly just a minute ago quickly switched gears, beaming with over-the-top enthusiasm as they stepped up to say hello. "Milford, what prompted the sudden return?" "Milford, I hear you're in the middle of acquiring a domestic company? You're just getting more impressive by the day." "Come on inside, take a seat. We've got some top-shelf coffee." Bradly caught the stark contrast in the uncles' warmth, his smile fading briefly before he pulled it together and led the way forward. Stella quietly eyed the tall, strikingly handsome Milford striding into the living room like the star of the show, instinctively edging back a step. Now fully pushed to the fringes of the crowd, she shifted aside to let the trailing group pass, doing everything she could to blend into the wallpaper. Milford approached steadily. Unlike Bradly's flashy, outgoing vibe, he had a more brooding, aloof kind of handsomeness, like a pine tree blanketed in snow, regal and intimidating. He acknowledged the flattery around him with simple nods, his eyes scanning the room casually, subtly taking stock of everyone there. Until his gaze swept over Stella again, and he came to an abrupt halt. He paused, causing Bradly to stop too. "Something wrong, Milford?" Milford didn't respond, his steady gaze fixed on Stella. It was only a look, but it jolted her to her core. She felt an odd sense of being claimed, uninvited. Yet she'd barely crossed paths with Milford before. Bradly and the others traced his stare, his eyebrow quirking up. "Stella, come say hi to Big Milford." Stella started to step forward, but Milford beat her to it, walking straight toward her. Bradly and the rest exchanged surprised glances. So far, everyone had been approaching Milford. He hadn't initiated with a soul. Milford's deep eyes gave nothing away. "Stella?" Her breath hitched, like a faint breeze had brushed her ear. She hadn't anticipated him coming over to chat. It had been years, and they'd only met once or twice, but he still remembered her. Stella nodded. "Milford, it's been ages—" Before she could finish, Milford held out his hand. The move was so casual, so natural. Out of pure reflex and politeness, Stella extended hers, their palms connecting. In that brief clasp, she felt him squeeze gently, his thumb settling on her fingers and grazing them with a warm intensity. Milford released after just a second. Suddenly, Bradly sidled up, drawing Stella into his side with an arm around her waist, lacing his fingers through her left hand. He said, "Milford, how long are you in town this time? Stella and I can take you out to dinner one of these days." Milford took in their cozy pose, his glance dropping to their intertwined hands. "About a month." The words had barely left his mouth when Chuck came down the stairs, leaning on the butler for support. Milford headed over to talk with him. Not long after, the kitchen called that the party was ready. Stella trailed Bradly to their seats on the left side of the main table. Everyone filed in and sat. As the eldest branch, the two Woodard brothers took priority. Chuck claimed the head of the main table, with Nadine and Milford next in line. Stella and Bradly fell further down the order, landing her right across from Milford on the diagonal. The family feast got underway, with everyone firing questions at Milford about what he'd been up to lately. Stella kept her head down, nibbling at her food while catching bits of the conversation. Zrester bigwig, major stakeholder in Wonder Group, founder of that financial exchange and the smart transportation AI... Milford's credentials were endless and mind-blowing. She thought back to that Zrester party invite list she'd snagged years ago. Milford was third from the top, while she languished at the bottom. In all these years, she'd had next to no interaction with him. Right after the wedding, this mysterious Milford had only shown up once. He dropped off a gift and vanished. In just a handful of years, Milford had climbed to the pinnacle of Zrester's power players. His talent was obvious. Before long, the family party wound down, and folks scattered to grab desserts. Still hung up on that marriage license, Stella excused herself to head upstairs for a coat change. Bradly was itching to chat with Milford, his gaze fixed that way as he muttered distractedly, "Yeah, go on up." Stella wasted no time hustling upstairs. With the crowd milling about downstairs, she slipped to the third floor of the villa and nudged open Bradly's bedroom door. There it was: the glaring marriage license perched right on top of the nightstand, framed, flanked by their wedding portrait. As she stepped closer, memories of Bradly's cozy moments with Shanna flooded her brain, her nails digging slowly into her palm. That license seared her eyes, like it was sneering at her gullibility. She never should've caved, never should've handed Bradly a second shot. It just went to show that people's hearts circled back for seconds. Disgust flickered in her eyes as she hauled the desk's computer chair over, the kind with wheels and a swivel, shaky at best. She climbed onto it, planting one foot on the bed for stability, teetering just enough to hold steady. Stella hiked up her pearl-white knee-length dress a bit and stretched upward slowly. Fingers extended to the max, but she was still a couple inches shy. She rose onto her tiptoes, straining, but no dice. Frowning from her perch, she scanned around and snagged a book from beside the cabinet. As she leaned down, footsteps suddenly echoed outside the door. Fast, but measured. A man's, for sure. Her pulse spiked. She clutched the table, scrambling to hop down, but, perfect timing, her other sleeve caught on the cabinet's edge. She tugged frantically to break free, but it was too late to descend. The door flew open out of nowhere. Stella went rigid, her knees giving way as she toppled backward off the chair. A quick yelp escaped her, but the expected crash never hit. A firm hand latched precisely onto her thigh, another banding around her waist, hauling her into a solid hold and planting her feet firmly on the floor. She slammed into a warm, toned chest, a crisp, grounding sandalwood aroma enveloping her, not Bradly's scent. Stella glanced up, nearly clipping the guy's chin. Milford let go right away, backing off a step to give her space. Her cheeks burned, the thigh he'd gripped feeling like it was on fire. Mortified and frozen, she stammered, "Th-thanks." Milford stayed composed, his eyes skimming her flushed face and the pinkened patch of skin on her thigh from his hold. His Adam's apple dipped subtly. "Didn't realize you were in here. My bad." Stella shook her head, even more flustered. She was the one imposing on him. Milford flicked a glance upward. "Need some help?" She looked too. Up top, the marriage license screamed for attention. Chapter 7 Don't Let Me Hate You Stella just came out with it. "I want to get the marriage license down." Milford hesitated for a beat, without probing why she needed it, and slid the chair out of the way. Tall and long-limbed, he barely had to tip up on his toes to snag it effortlessly. Milford skimmed the lettering on the license, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes before the faintest quirk tugged at his lips, almost undetectable. He passed it over to Stella. "Ah, I see." She missed the words, taking it with a soft murmur: "Thanks, Milford." Her palms were slick with sweat now, but holding the certificate still sent an icy shiver through her. Those bold letters were a brutal reminder. This whole marriage had been one big joke. From beginning to end, Bradly's grand performance of undying love had always had a third wheel in the shadows. Milford dropped his gaze. Towering over her, all he could make out was the neat swirl at the top of her head, round and oddly appealing. Those slim, pale hands gripped the certificate like a vise, completely bloodless. Milford asked offhandedly, "So, what's the marriage license for?" "Oh, I just want to bring it home and store it there," Stella shot back, pulling an excuse out of thin air. Milford's stare felt like it enveloped her, the heat of it almost scorching, though he kept his hands to himself. Then he casually adjusted his cufflinks and turned to go. Stella let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, sagging against the cool cabinet. Her thigh still tingled with warmth from his grip; she quickly smoothed her skirt down, tucked the license into her bag, and only left the room once everything looked undisturbed. Bradly was still out in the back garden, deep in conversation. Stella kept her face neutral, strolling over to stand at his side. A few relatives were chatting with him. "Hey, word is Milford actually got back a couple days ago, but only tipped us off today." Bradly looked taken aback. "I thought he was flying in today?" "Nope, sounds like he hit up some auction. I only heard bits and pieces, supposedly the other night at the Empire Auction House." "He must not have gone. I was there that evening too, and I didn't see him anywhere," Bradly said, frowning in confusion. Stella's eyelashes flickered subtly, but she played it cool. Out of nowhere, her mind jumped back to that enigmatic bidder in suite 217. She wondered, 'Could Milford be the mystery guest who got the bracelet for me?' She shoved the thought down as soon as it surfaced. They'd only crossed paths once, total strangers really, connected by the flimsiest in-law tie. No matter how you sliced it, Milford wouldn't stick his neck out for her. Just like Bradly said, he hadn't caught wind of anything, so it couldn't be Milford. Stella let it go. After some more mingling, the group started to break up. Bradly steered her over to bid farewell to Milford. "Mom, Milford, we're taking off. Let's set up a family dinner soon when things settle." Milford slouched back in his chair with effortless nonchalance and gave a nod. "I'm knee-deep in an acquisition, no hurry on the get-together. But you..." He lifted his head, his expression sharpening. "Keep your life on the straight and narrow. Don't veer off track." The edge of warning in his voice was crystal clear. Bradly had grown up overshadowed by Milford; he went rigid but brushed it off casually. "Come on, everything's good. My company's running smooth as ever. If you're skeptical, drop by anytime and pore over the financials—knock yourself out." "It's not just about the company," Milford said softly, eyes down as he savored a sip of coffee. Stella couldn't help stealing a glance at him, and in that instant, a ridiculous idea struck her. From what Bradly had mentioned, Milford was abroad most of the time but still had the inside scoop on everything back home. She wondered, 'Does he know about the shady stuff Bradly is up to on the sly?' "Milford, I hear you. I'll make sure to nurture my marriage with Stella, our whole life together." Bradly grinned, threading his fingers through Stella's. Milford's gaze lingered on their joined hands for a second before drifting away, sealed with a subtle nod. Stella had no desire for any more close contact with Bradly, so she subtly shook his hand free without thinking. A split second later, his disbelieving stare locked onto her face, and he tried to grab her again. She'd known her move would humiliate him in the moment, so she didn't bother saying goodbye to Milford. She just turned and walked out ahead. Once they slid into the car, Bradly shed his polite, deferential mask from earlier, reverting to his entitled rich-kid swagger. He tugged his tie loose, a flicker of annoyance pinching his brows. "Always playing the big-brother card to chew me out, same crap since we were little. "So what if he's crushing it overseas? I'm holding my own just fine back home. Who in Ostralver would even think about messing with me?" Bradly fished out a menthol cigarette on autopilot, ready to light up, but he caught himself after glancing at Stella and shoved it back. He said, "All these years, folks have been whispering, or saying it straight to my face, that my company's thriving because of his pull. Like he's behind every damn thing. "And you? You flat-out refused to let me hold your hand back there. Trying to make me look like an idiot in front of him?" His expression iced over, the edge in his voice impossible to miss. Stella's frown deepened as she took it in. Even without knowing Milford all that well, she understood that Bradly's cocky antics in Ostralver, brushing people off like they were nothing, had always been propped up by Milford's clout. She'd assumed the brothers were tight, but clearly Bradly's respect was just for show; underneath, his grudge against Milford simmered deep. She could overlook a lot, but with things the way they were now, there was zero point in him putting on that phony hand-holding act. Stella gripped her bag, the one with the marriage license inside, and couldn't bite her tongue. "We haven't held hands in forever. It feels off to me." The car went dead quiet. She was right. Their physical closeness had dwindled so much that even she couldn't pinpoint the last time. Bradly's brow creased, and he snapped the cigarette filter clean off between his fingers. "What was that?" Stella met his eyes steadily. "From here on out, let's skip the pointless touchy-feely stuff. It just doesn't sit right." She hadn't even finished when the brakes screeched harshly. The car lurched to a halt on the empty shoulder of the road. Stella almost smacked into the window from the force, her pulse hammering as she barked, "Are you out of your mind?" Bradly loomed over her, fingers digging into her chin, irritation boiling in his glare. "Stella, do you have any idea what you're saying?" The pinch stung like crazy, and the absurdity of it all hit her as she wrestled to shove him off. "Is it not true? When's the last time we even held hands. Can you remember?" Bradly's gaze turned stormy, like she'd struck a raw spot. "I bet you're hung up on Milford, just like that girl from the second branch. That's why you pulled away in front of him. You're trying to cut ties with me?" "Bradly! What the hell are you babbling about?" Anger surged through her as she pushed harder. "Don't you dare pin your gross history on me!" The way the family had orbited Milford like he was the sun had obviously gotten under his skin. The more she resisted, the darker his look grew. Abruptly, he leaned in and smashed his mouth against hers. Stella's eyes flew wide, her head whipping aside to evade as she hammered at his shoulders with everything she had. He'd locked lips with Shanna god knows how often. The thought turned her stomach, so she clamped down and bit him hard. Bradly yelped in pain, jerking back as the fog cleared and he clocked what he'd just done, regret flashing across his face. Blood dotted his lip, but he brushed it off, lunging to wrap her in his arms. "I'm sorry, Stella, baby, I'm so sorry. I screwed up; it was a stupid impulse..." Drained of energy, Stella sagged into the passenger seat, letting him hold her while a barren wave of emptiness and revulsion washed over her. The hug she'd once melted into now repulsed her to her core. "Get off me." Her voice came out rough and scratchy. "Bradly, don't push me to hating you."
Chapter 1 Don't Want Him Anymore "I'm sorry, ma'am." On the other end of the line, the insurance customer service rep said coolly, "After checking our records, the car owner, Mr. Woodard, is indeed married, but the spouse listed here isn't you." Stella Daniels had gotten into a car accident on her way to the Woodard Group headquarters. She couldn't get through to Bradly Woodard on his phone, so she had no choice but to call the insurance company. The car was registered in Bradly's name, but as his wife, she should be able to process the claim too. "When Mr. Woodard picked up the car, he came with his wife and provided the original marriage license. Her last name is Erickson, and her full name is Shanna Erickson," the rep said. It hit Stella like a slap in the face. Dizziness washed over her in waves, leaving her whole body shaking uncontrollably. She and Bradly had been childhood sweethearts. Their families were old friends, and everyone in Ostralver's high society knew how clingy he was with her. Bradly couldn't stand being apart from her even for a single day. Three years ago, when Stella headed abroad for her studies, Bradly had the plane stopped just for her. During her three years in Ensland, he expanded his business overseas to make it easier to look after her. Sixteen thousand miles apart, he'd still fly across the ocean every week to see her. The year she came down with a severe lung illness and nearly didn't pull through, she spent a week in intensive care. Bradly ignored the infection risks and stayed right by her side, sliding a ring onto her finger. He said, "If anything happens to you, I'll go with you. We'll be husband and wife in the next life too." For Bradly's sake, she turned down her mentor's offer to stay on in the lab and headed back home. Brimming with excitement, she went to find him, planning to surprise him. But when she pushed open the door to the CEO's office, she saw a slender, pretty woman straddling his lap. The woman's innocent face tilted upward, her voice whiny and aggrieved. "Mr. Woodard, what happens to me now that Stella is back?" Bradly sat in his executive chair, his tall frame looming over her. A flash of ruthlessness crossed his stern features. "You? You're just her stand-in. Don't forget your place." He lifted his hand, pinching her delicate chin with a sneer. "Barely a three-out-of-ten resemblance, and you think you can compare to her?" Stella was still clutching the gift she'd prepared for him. With a loud "bang," it dropped to the floor, finally breaking the scene in the office. Bradly's face drained of color as he shoved the woman off and jumped to his feet. That woman was Shanna. After Stella caught them in the act, Bradly fired Shanna on the spot and pulled out all the stops to win her back. Bradly, the arrogant prince of Ostralver's elite circles, humbled himself to the dust before her, begging her to give him another chance. Any project she set her sights on, he'd drop without a second thought. He stood in the pouring rain outside her building for over a week, just for a glimpse of her. He said, "Stella, I'm not asking you to forgive me. At least let me explain. "I only ever saw Shanna as your replacement. You've been gone abroad for so long; I missed you terribly. I swear, I just kept her around. Nothing more ever happened between us. "That time you walked in, I'd had too much to drink, and she deliberately tempted me. I lost control for a moment... "I've already let her go, and she won't show up in our lives again. Stella, please, come back to me." Back then, Stella couldn't stand even the slightest betrayal. She insisted on breaking off the engagement. Until that one incident. She was kidnapped by a business rival. The kidnappers reneged on the deal, tied her up in an abandoned factory, and set the place ablaze. Bradly charged into the flames without a second thought to rescue her, shielding her from a collapsing steel beam. He ended up gravely injured, confined to bed for nearly six months. By risking his life, Bradly finally melted her resolve. Once he was out of the hospital, she accepted his proposal, and they threw a lavish wedding. In the two years since they tied the knot, he'd treated her just as devotedly as ever, with zero scandals. He even imposed a strict curfew on himself, heading home right on time every day. Even on out-of-town business trips, he'd video call her constantly. His partners would tease him about being henpecked. He never denied it. Instead, he'd grin proudly and say, "A real man takes care of his family." Memories rushed through Stella's mind like a whirlwind, every past moment flashing by in a blur. Her legs buckled, and she dropped to her knees, burying her face in her hands. She couldn't figure out which Bradly was the real one anymore. A bitter, mocking gleam sparked in her eyes. She thought, 'How absurd.' She'd been his wife for two years, and only now was she learning that even their marriage license had been a sham. Stella scrubbed her face hard, her bangs already soaked with cold sweat. She ignored the other driver's furious yelling and calmly dialed the police. They showed up fast. After finishing her statement, Stella left the station under a sky that had gone completely dark. Her phone lit up with several missed calls from Bradly. When she hadn't answered, he'd sent texts instead. Bradly: [Babe, I was tied up in a key meeting this afternoon. Signal jammers were on, so I missed your call. You okay?] Bradly: [I've got a client dinner tonight, so I'll be late getting home. I double-checked: no women involved, so no need to worry.] Bradly: [Head to bed early. Don't wait up. Love you.] Stella stared at the screen, a sharp wave of irony twisting in her gut. Bradly didn't stagger in until the wee hours. He reeked of alcohol, which almost, but not quite, masked the subtle whiff of perfume on him. "Honey..." He could barely keep his balance, stumbling over to wrap his arms around her through the blanket. "I missed you so damn much..." Stella didn't say a word. Only once he was dead to the world did she sit up quietly and unlock his phone with his fingerprint. The thing was squeaky clean, no suspicious traces at all. His contacts were mostly buddies and business folks, with hers pinned at the top as "Darling Wife." Flawlessly tidy, just like their sham of a marriage. Stella hooked the phone up to her computer, and it didn't take long to uncover his second WhatsApp account. She signed in, and right away, messages popped up from a profile with a cute pink kitten avatar, labeled "Baby." Shanna: [Bradly, thanks for tonight. Without you, I wouldn't have known what to do.] Shanna: [I've always thought meeting you was the luckiest thing that's ever happened to me. I won't intrude on your life. As long as you swing by to see me once in a while, that's enough to make me happy.] Stella scrolled back through the history. She'd suspected as much, but seeing it all laid out still hit her like a punch to the chest, leaving her breathless. They chatted nearly every day. Shanna never missed a good morning message, and Bradly's replies had shifted over time, from total silence at first, to sporadic responses, and now to answering every single one. A chill spread through her. Stella clutched the phone tighter, knowing she should quit while she was ahead but unable to stop herself from digging deeper. Shanna: [Bradly, sorry, I had a few drinks and lost it for a bit. Doc says I'm okay now, so don't stress.] Shanna: [Mrs. Woodard's birthday bash is important. Go enjoy it with her. I'll be fine.] Stella squeezed her eyes shut as the memory came rushing back. Her birthday. Bradly had spent over a month planning it down to the last detail, but that day, he was totally distracted. Hell, he almost cut his own hand while slicing the cake. When she'd asked what was up, he'd brushed it off as work drama, told her not to worry, then pulled her into a soft embrace and encouraged her to blow out the candles and make a wish. It all made sense now, as she stared at this chat log. That same day, Shanna had tried to kill herself by slashing her wrists and ended up in the ER. A sour bitterness flooded her chest like a rising tide. In those brief seconds when she'd closed her eyes to wish, she wondered, 'Was he agonizing over Shanna in the hospital, or picturing endless years together with her?' Stella knew she didn't need an answer to that anymore. She gently placed the phone back and looked down at Bradly, fast asleep beside her. She'd known him since she was four, and for the twenty years that followed, she'd truly believed his love was hers alone, irreplaceable. But now she saw it for what it was: just cheap free samples at a store, handed out to anyone who walked by. If that was all it amounted to, she was done with it. Chapter 2 Bid Against Her The next day, Stella woke to find Bradly busy in the kitchen, his broad shoulders narrowing to a slim waist, his tall, lean build moving with purpose. The sight hit her hard, a dull ache tightening in her chest. Bradly had learned to cook entirely for her sake. She still remembered that turbulent period when the Woodard Group was in crisis. His rivals had targeted her, paying off a servant to poison her food. She'd been unconscious for three full days. When she finally woke, Bradly was there, his eyes red-rimmed and veined with exhaustion, gripping her hand like a lifeline. The instant she stirred, the imposing Bradly crumbled forward, enveloping her in a hug as scalding tears fell onto her skin. From then on, Bradly threw himself into cooking lessons, taking charge of all her meals. In less than a month, he'd gone from a spoiled elite who couldn't distinguish spices to turning out dishes worthy of a Michelin chef. Just then, his phone rang. Stella glanced at it but made no move to answer. Bradly darted out of the kitchen, apron still on, grabbing the phone with a barely concealed flash of anxiety. Stella pretended not to notice and went to wash up. When she came back, the table was set with breakfast, and he was slipping into his suit jacket from the coat rack. Seeing her, he said gently, "There's an emergency at work. I have to run. Sorry I can't join you for breakfast." Stella murmured, "Sure, work comes first." He was clearly in a hurry, because he didn't pick up on the new edge of cool distance in her tone and rushed out. She stared blankly after him until he was gone, then dumped the entire spread into the trash. Then she picked up her phone and dialed a number. "That offer you made before? I'm on board." The person on the other end erupted in delight, chattering away before shifting to broken Andosa Language. "Stella, why the sudden change of heart? I've bugged you about this so many times, and you always said you were married now and focusing on family." A mocking glint flickered in Stella's eyes. She thought, 'Married? This so-called marriage has been dead on arrival.' The caller was her former mentor from her overseas studies. He'd reached out lately, hoping she'd join his new team and spearhead a major project. At the time, she'd kept saying no out of loyalty to Bradly. Now, she only wished she'd seen through the absurd joke of their marriage earlier. After the call, she contacted immigration to schedule a passport renewal. It would take about a week. But before heading out, she had one loose end to tie up. That evening, Stella showed up at a private auction at the Cloud Hotel. She was after one of her mother's keepsakes. Her mom had died when she was eight, and soon after, the Daniels family had liquidated her wedding gift. Stella had been hunting down the items ever since. Over the years, she'd only reclaimed a few. Tonight's auction featured a bracelet from that collection, one her mother had picked up on a trip to Ijance. It was utterly unique, irreplaceable. Whatever it took, she was getting it back. Stella settled into her seat just as the auction was about to start. She was flipping through the catalog when Bradly's voice floated over. "Didn't I already pick out that royal blue sapphire set for you? Not good enough?" His voice carried that familiar tenderness. Shanna linked her arm with his, pouting playfully. "Your taste sucks! I want to pick my own birthday gift." Stella watched them quietly until Bradly threaded through the guests and their gazes collided by chance. The color drained from his face. On pure reflex, he jerked his arm away from Shanna. "Stella." He strode over quickly. "I tried calling you a few times, but you didn't answer. Were you planning to surprise me?" Even though he tried to play it cool, she could still catch that subtle hint of panic in his expression. Stella didn't bother calling him on it, replying evenly, "My phone was on silent. I didn't hear it." Bradly visibly relaxed, casually taking her hand in his with a look of concern. "Your hands are like ice. Didn't I warn you about the cold snap today? You're always putting style over staying warm. If you catch a chill, you know it'll just kill me." As he talked, he signaled a server for a blanket and draped it snugly around her shoulders. Stella kept a straight face, brushing him off as she looked past him to Shanna, who lingered behind with a scowl. Shanna nibbled her lip, then defiantly dropped into the seat next to Bradly, her gaze simmering with irritation. Bradly leaned closer, dropping his voice to explain, "We just wrapped up a major project at the company, and Shanna pulled her weight big time. Her birthday's around the corner, so I thought I'd treat her to something as a project bonus." He eyed her anxiously. "Stella, you're not mad, right?" Shanna piped up in a soft, vulnerable tone. "Mrs. Woodard, if this upsets you, I'll just go. I don't want to get in the way of you and Mr. Woodard." Stella's mouth quirked into a smile that never touched her eyes. "We're married. A little thing like this? Of course it doesn't bother me." The auction got underway shortly after. Bradly treated Shanna like she was invisible, focusing entirely on Stella. He paged through the catalog, throwing in bids left and right. "Babe, this would look amazing on you." He grinned, tenderly brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his tone warm and intimate. "You'd be gorgeous in it." Stella averted her eyes, but out of the corner of her vision, she saw Shanna discreetly clutching the edge of Bradly's jacket in the dim light. Their gazes locked for a split second in a shared, lingering look. She masked the derision in her own eyes, struck by how absurd it all was. Bradly seemed totally at ease juggling both women, convinced he was keeping things balanced, one with the official status, the other with his undivided public attention. She thought, 'What could be fairer than that?' But Stella had never been interested in that kind of equilibrium. Her world extended far beyond romance. Bradly? He was just a small detour on her path, a misstep she'd own up to. And now, it was time to set things right. "Next up: a string of bracelet. Fine-grained texture, deep aroma that lingers. Starting bid at 170,000 dollars, with increments of at least 20,000 dollars!" The auctioneer's pumped-up voice echoed through the room. Finally, Stella's main target for the evening. Bids flew in fast, the screen flickering with updates as the auctioneer called out, "Number 17 lady at 200,000 dollars! Number 9 gentleman ups it to 260,000 dollars! Going higher?" Once the initial frenzy tapered off, Stella lifted her paddle. "500,000 dollars." She'd doubled the current bid in one go. It was a hefty amount. Sure, the bracelet was top-notch, but it wasn't the auction's highlight. The room went quiet after her call; no one countered. "Fantastic! Number 11 lady at 500,000 dollars! "500,000 dollars once! 500,000 dollars twice!" The auctioneer hoisted his gavel, poised to bring it down. "No more bids? Then 500,000 dollars—" "520,000 dollars," A gentle, hesitant voice interrupted. Shanna shrank against Bradly's side, paddle in hand, murmuring timidly to him, "Is this where I put in the amount?" Chapter 3 You're Dirty Stella frowned and raised her bid. "540,000 dollars." But Shanna was right behind her, countering with, "560,000 dollars." How annoyingly precise, each time, she stuck to the bare minimum, slapping on just 20,000 dollars more than Stella's offer. Shanna turned toward her, her voice dripping with plea. "Stella, you've got plenty of jewelry already. Please, let me have this one. I adore it. "I'm not like you, born with money, everything handed to you on a silver platter. You snap your fingers and get whatever you want. If it goes any higher, I really won't be able to keep up." Stella didn't bother looking at her, just quirking her lips in a thin smile. "Isn't Mr. Woodard covering the cost for you? What are you stressing about?" Shanna's face went a shade paler, but she answered in that soft, demure tone, "Even so, Mr. Woodard earns his money the hard way. If I can save him a bit, I ought to." She was the epitome of considerate and caring. After several more back-and-forth bids, the bracelet's price had soared to 700,000 dollars. Stella let out a chilly scoff and was opening her mouth to up the ante when Bradly beat her to it. He said, "Babe, why don't we just let Shanna take this bracelet?" Stella's fingers curled into a tight fist, her nails biting into her palm. She lifted her gaze, any lingering warmth in her eyes turning to ice. "What did you just say?" Bradly let out a resigned sigh, giving her hand a comforting pat as he murmured gently, "Babe, I already told Shanna she'd get a gift tonight, and she's got her heart set on this one. No need to compete with her. "Plus, I've already snagged you a handful of other pieces. Isn't that plenty?" He said it all lightly, teasingly, as if it were nothing more than a harmless quip. Stella shut her eyes, a nameless sourness creeping along her nerves, coiling around her heart until it felt like she couldn't draw a breath. Given Shanna's modest background, 700,000 dollars was way out of her league. She wouldn't even make the guest list here on her own. The only reason she was in that seat, trading bids blow for blow, was Bradly's backing. His pampering had delivered her straight into Stella's path. Stella whispered, "What if I refuse to back down?" She hoisted her paddle once more, her voice echoing through the room. "1 million dollars." A hush blanketed the hall. The auctioneer clearly picked up on the drama, his delivery faltering. "Number eleven at 1 million dollars. Do I hear higher?" Shanna's eyes welled up, on the verge of tears, as she cast a helpless look at Bradly before tacking on another fifty thousand. "1 million 20 thousand dollars." Stella's features hardened to frost, and she was poised to fire back when the manager bustled over, bending close to murmur, "Mrs. Woodard, apologies. We ran a credit verification on your account, and it's frozen. Got another one we can use?" The words slammed into her like a bolt from the blue, ringing in her ears. She snapped her head toward Bradly, but he'd already looked away. An icy numbness spread through her arms and legs. She though,t 'Of course, it has to be him.' Her primary account was linked with his; besides her, only he could authorize a freeze on her cards. Triumph flickered in Shanna's eyes as she added with a pointed edge, "Well, in that case, Mrs. Woodard, maybe it's time to step aside. You've got so much already. Can't you let me have this one little thing?" Up on stage, the auction rolled on, the display frozen on Shanna's latest bid: 1 million 20 thousand dollars. Shanna could hardly hide her glee, chirping sweetly, "Go on, call it!" But the words had barely left her lips when someone announced he would bid for the lot at any costs right in the second-floor VIP suite. After a momentary silence, the room burst into chaos. "He's declared absolute intent!" Even the auctioneer's expression changed. He'd been in the game for over a decade, but this was his first encounter with such a scenario. He hurriedly called out, "Lot number six goes to the gentleman in box 217, regardless of how high the price goes." Anyone up in those second-floor VIP suites was either swimming in money or held serious sway in Ostralver's upper crust. Stella glanced upward toward the source of the voice, catching only a vague outline behind the draped curtains. Even when she couldn't see his face, the man's crossed-legged posture radiated an unspoken dominance that pressed down on the room. The auctioneer slammed his gavel down with finality, proclaiming, "Congratulations to our esteemed guest in box 217 on winning lot number six! You're now upgraded to black gold status!" Across all of Ostralver's elite scene, fewer than a handful had ever hit black gold level at these events. Stella wondered, 'Just who is this mystery man?' Stella loosened her clenched fist slightly, torn between relief that her mother's heirloom hadn't landed in Shanna's clutches and anxiety over reclaiming it from this unknown figure. No matter what, she'd stop at nothing, pay any price, to bring her mother's possession home. She rose to her feet, intent on marching over to box 217 for a chat, when the attendant who'd just ducked inside reappeared, tray in hand with the bracelet. "What's this? The bidder in 217 having second thoughts?" "Auctions don't do take-backs." "Probably short on funds. I called it. No one's done this here before." As the murmurs swirled, the attendant headed straight for Stella, dipping into a courteous bow with a warm smile. She said, "Mrs. Woodard, the gentleman in box 217 requests that I deliver the bracelet to you as a gift. He wishes for you to follow your true path and for all to unfold as it should." The place erupted in gossip once more, with guests shooting glances her way, some envious, others skeptical, many flat-out stunned. "Isn't that Mrs. Woodard? What's her deal with the upstairs guy?" "Likely just buttering up Mr. Woodard." "Nah, I don't buy it. Out of all the goodies tonight, why zero in on those beads for Mrs. Woodard? Sounds like she's got a real connection there." The buzz filtered through, and Bradly's face turned stone-cold. In a tight, edged voice, he demanded, "Stella, what's the story with you and whoever's in box 217?" Stella held his piercing stare and said flatly, "I have no idea who he is." "!" Bradly jumped up, clamping down on her wrist like a vice. Her soft, fair skin reddened almost instantly under the pressure. Stella winced sharply, jerking her arm back on reflex. "Bradly, have you lost your mind? Haven't you stirred up enough drama for one day?" But he barreled on, blind to her fury, his reddened eyes locked on her as if he could swallow her up. "What's really between you two? "Stella, through all our married years, I've bent over backward for you. Anything you desired, I served it up without question. Why would you betray me like this?" In his mind, it was already a done deal: she was entangled in something shady with the man above. If the guy was angling for a favor from him, Bradly would've recognized him right away. People in Ostralver didn't beat around the bush when they needed something from him. They came direct. The jab landed raw and direct. Bradly blinked, frozen for a beat as a flicker of alarm shot through his eyes. Chapter 4 Don't Know You'd Come Bradly said, "I'm sorry, Stella. I didn't mean it like that. I had no right getting jealous over you and some stranger. It's all on me." Bradly's eyes reddened. "But honestly, there's nothing going on between Shanna and me. I just brought her along as a thank-you. Can you let this slide?" Seeing his cue, Shanna ducked her head meekly, her voice catching. "That's right, Mrs. Woodard. I've been bending over backward to keep my distance from Mr. Woodard so you wouldn't get the wrong impression. "I'm not asking for the world, just a decent birthday gift. I didn't grow up with your advantages; you've had everything handed to you and even snagged a catch like Mr. Woodard. Can't I at least pick out something for myself?" "Just a gift, huh?" Stella closed in on her, one step at a time. "Ms. Erickson, I've never given a damn about this 'gift' you're going on about. What gets under my skin is you, a Woodard Group employee, crossing lines you have no business crossing." As they drew closer, Bradly instinctively stepped in front of Shanna, his voice soft and coaxing. "Stella, if it's bugging you this much, I'll transfer her to a branch office once the auction's over. "But for now, cut me some slack. Let Shanna have the bracelet. When we get home, name your price on anything, and it's yours." Shanna bobbed her head in agreement, tears glistening on her lashes as she pleaded, "Stella, I really adore this bracelet. You've got it all already. Why go after the one thing I want? "Or is this just because you hate my guts and can't resist taking shots at me?" "What makes you think I'd ever like you?" Stella let out a cold snort. "This belonged to me from the start. Why the hell would I give it up?" She took the bracelet from the attendant with casual ease, her smile sharp but empty. "Ms. Erickson, know your place." Her refusal to budge finally wore through Bradly's patience, erasing every bit of softness from his face. "Stella, do you have to humiliate me like this in front of everyone? Where does that leave my dignity? "It's just a crappy old bracelet. Am I really worth less to you than some trinket?" He said it with such conviction, as if he'd wiped from his memory the solemn vow he'd made when proposing: that he'd hunt down every single one of her mother's sold-off keepsakes, no matter what. Stella's hand flew up, delivering a resounding slap across his cheek. The sharp crack rang out, pulling shocked stares from every corner of the room. Bradly's head snapped sideways, his face livid as he fixed her with a glare, his words hissing through clenched teeth. "Stella, drop the drama already. Have I pampered you too much these days, turning you into this unreasonable nightmare?" Stella reined in her temper, keeping her tone even. "Bradly, you better not live to regret today." Without another word, she turned and walked out, not sparing a backward glance. As her figure receded, Shanna gently touched the angry red mark on Bradly's cheek, her voice full of worry. "Mr. Woodard, are you okay? "Stella's got no boundaries. How could she hit you with all these people watching?" Bradly swatted her hand aside, his nails digging into his palm as he stared after her retreating path. "I've spoiled her rotten, letting her forget that everything she has comes from me." Shanna peeked at his changing expression, testing the waters. "Mr. Woodard, about the bracelet..." Bradly rubbed his throbbing cheek, pulled a bank card from his pocket, and handed it over. "1.7 million dollars on there. Buy whatever catches your eye." Box 217, Stella rapped on the door, eager to thank the mystery bidder face-to-face. Silence. She caught a server walking by. "Excuse me, any idea where the gentleman from this box headed?" "He slipped out right after nabbing the last item," the server said. Disappointment flashed in her eyes, but Stella pressed on, "Do you know who he was?" The server gave her a regretful smile. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard, we're not allowed to spill on our VIPs. Don't make this harder for us." Catching herself, Stella moved out of the way. "Thanks all the same." By the time she made it home from the auction, an hour had ticked by. Stella went straight up to the study, fired up the computer, and dove into the assets registered under her and Bradly's names. After tallying up the numbers, she snatched her phone, found lawyer Rubin Cobb's contact, and hit dial. She said, "I've sorted out the asset division documents for me and Bradly and sent them over. I need you to handle the property split by tomorrow." Rubin quickly received the files and nodded respectfully. "Of course, Mrs. Woodard. I'll get right on it." Stella stared intently at her computer screen, her grip tightening on the mouse. "If Bradly's committed bigamy, how should our assets be divided?" "Generally, any property the bigamous party gained through the bigamy can be claimed back by the other spouse," Rubin replied matter-of-factly. Half of Bradly's current wealth had come from Stella's investments to support his career early on. Her expression darkened, and she promptly forwarded the marriage license between him and Shanna. "Rubin, please use every legal avenue to recover my half of the assets." After hanging up, Stella slumped back in her chair, utterly drained physically and emotionally. She closed her eyes slowly, but sleep was nowhere in sight. Bradly would never agree to a divorce. Until she had everything locked down, she couldn't let on that anything was amiss. Just then, the study door was kicked open from the outside. Bradly flung his jacket onto the desk and yanked Stella up from her seat in front of the computer. "Do you realize that because of your little outburst, I've become a laughingstock in our circles? "What exactly do you want? Are you still obsessing over what happened back then?" Stella opened her eyes slowly, her gaze settling calmly on Bradly, but she remained silent. A fire raged in Bradly's chest, intensifying by the second, and he couldn't hold back his fury any longer. "Since we got married, have I ever done anything to wrong you? I come home right on time every night after work, I always fill you in on any business dinners, and if there's even a hint of a woman involved, I skip them entirely! I've bent over backward, and it's still not good enough for you?" He remembered every detail crystal clear. In his mind, these were the sacrifices he'd made to marry her. Stella suddenly found the whole thing absurd. She couldn't bear to look at him anymore, so she stood up and walked straight out of the study without a backward glance. Behind her, Bradly's voice echoed heavily. "Stella, no matter what you think, my conscience is clear." It felt like Stella's heart had been shattered into icy fragments, a sharp, bitter pain surging through her. Her mind buzzed, and for a moment, all she could hear was that phrase repeating over and over. She thought, 'My conscience is clear? So, in his eyes, everything he's done is perfectly justifiable.' The next morning, when Stella woke up, Bradly was already gone. On the table sat the breakfast he'd prepared, tailored exactly to her tastes. Stella pressed her lips together, her feelings a complicated tangle. They'd ended things on a sour note last night, yet Bradly had still made her breakfast this morning. But this was the same man who'd lied to her for years. No matter what, it was time to end things with Bradly. She didn't touch the food and headed straight to the office. These past few years, she'd stayed out of Bradly's business dealings. A lot of her old financial records were outdated now, and she needed the latest reports. The secretary looked startled when she saw her, then managed to say, "Mrs. Woodard, are you here to see Mr. Woodard?" "No." Stella replied evenly. "Send the finance manager in to see me." Her shares were second only to Bradly's, giving her full access to every aspect of the company. The secretary hesitated briefly before nodding. Stella noticed her immediately turning to make a phone call, probably alerting Bradly. Stella didn't intervene; let her. She settled into the finance office, sipping her coffee absentmindedly while flipping through magazines on the shelf. Most were glossy entertainment rags, mixed in with novels and comics. Stella frowned, only now picking up on the details: the desk was covered in a pink plaid mat, cluttered with adorable plush toys. The standout pair was a set of couple dolls, their outfits emblazoned with the letters W and E. It hit Stella suddenly what that meant, and just then, the door behind her swung open. Shanna rushed in. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard." She was clutching a cup of coffee as she apologized. "I had no idea you'd drop by like this..." Chapter 5 All For Milford Stella arched an eyebrow as she looked her over. "So you're the finance manager?" Shanna nodded with a quick smile. "That's me. If you need anything at all, just say the word. Bradly, well, Mr. Woodard is tied up in a meeting right now. But don't worry, I'll make sure to relay whatever message you have." Stella let out a soft laugh. "No need for that." She regarded Shanna with clear curiosity. "I'm not looking for Bradly. I'm here to see you." Shanna's smile faltered for a moment before she recovered, her tone turning gentle. "Mrs. Woodard, I get that you're still bothered by what went down at the auction last night, but there's no reason to be so worked up about my connection to Mr. Woodard. After all..." She raised her hand, the elegant diamond ring on her finger glinting under the light, perfectly complementing her bashful grin. "I'm already married, and things are great between me and my husband." Stella's eyes locked on the ring, her breath hitching just for an instant. It was ridiculous. In this whole messed-up situation, she was the one playing the role of the mistress. The ring was an exact match for the one Bradly had given her during his proposal. But within seconds, Stella averted her gaze. "It's a lovely ring, but you're mistaken." She spoke unhurriedly, "I'm just here to grab the latest financial report from you. That's all." Stella caught the sour shift in Shanna's expression and smiled to herself. "Seems like you're the one on edge here, Ms. Erickson." Shanna's face transformed completely, that smug spark in her eyes snuffed out. She bit her lip, unable to find words for a long beat. Stella watched her with unruffled poise. "Do I need to repeat my request, Ms. Erickson?" The words had barely left her mouth when Bradly burst in, his expression clouding over at the sight. "Stella, wasn't the scene from last night enough?" His voice was laced with ice. "How long are you planning to drag this out? I've told you already. There's nothing going on between me and Shanna. If you don't believe me..." Stella interrupted him mid-sentence, "Oh, I believe you. Absolutely." A faint smirk tugged at her lips, though her eyes remained frosty as they settled on Shanna. "After all, Ms. Erickson's already married. She just mentioned it herself." The statement landed like a bomb. Shanna's face drained of color, and Bradly's followed suit. He shot her a withering glare. Tears sprang to Shanna's eyes in an instant. Stella had no interest in watching the drama unfold any further. She said evenly, "I'm here for this year's financials. I hold forty percent of the company. Surely I can access that, right?" Bradly seemed to snap back to reality, nodding hastily. "Of course you can." He barked orders at the secretary to fetch it immediately, all the while stealing wary glances at her face. Once he confirmed she wasn't giving anything away, he exhaled almost imperceptibly in relief. He said, "Stella, what's with the sudden interest? You've never bothered with company matters before." Stella answered coolly, "After the account freeze last night, I decided it's smarter to set up a separate one." Bradly's expression froze again. "Stella..." The secretary returned promptly with the report. Stella brushed Bradly aside, skimmed through it quickly, and was heading for the door when he caught her by the wrist. He said, "Stella, about the family dinner tonight, are you coming home with me?" His tone was pleading, like he needed her answer to reassure himself that she hadn't caught on to anything fishy. Stella didn't look back, just replying calmly, "Sure." Bradly's face lit up. "Great, I'll swing by after work to pick you up." Stella dropped her gaze, masking the cool detachment in her eyes. She'd only agreed to head back to the family estate for one specific reason. The marriage license from when she and Bradly had tied the knot was a phony, but he'd made a whole production out of stashing it away at the house, claiming it had to be kept secure. Nothing could serve as stronger proof. Once she got her hands on it, his bigamy would be ironclad. Stella didn't bother waiting for Bradly; she hailed a cab and got there ahead of time. She'd figured it was just a standard family gathering, but she was caught off guard by the full turnout. Bradly's parents, fresh from their overseas vacation last week, were back, and even the distant relatives from the Woodard family's side branches had shown up en masse. "Stella, dear." As she walked in, Nadine Woodard peered over her shoulder. "Bradly didn't come with you?" Stella answered evenly, "He'll be along shortly." Nadine clicked her tongue, her irritation obvious. "On an important occasion like this, letting someone from outside the family arrive solo, what's got into him?" Stella's brow furrowed just a touch. She and Bradly had been engaged since childhood, but after her mother's passing, the Daniels family's status had tanked while the Woodard family kept climbing. That was when Nadine started pushing to scrap the arrangement, and she'd mentioned it more than a few times. But Chuck Woodard was upright and principled, flat-out refusing to play the social-climbing game. With Bradly dead set on marrying her and no one else, Nadine had reluctantly given in, though she made her resentment clear. Even after the marriage, she never passed up an opportunity to give Stella the cold shoulder. She was about to add something else when the butler rushed in and murmured, "He's here." Nadine promptly dropped the subject with Stella and jumped to her feet, the extended family hustling out right behind her to welcome the arrivals. The level of pomp surprised Stella. The Woodard family was already at the top of Ostralver's social elite. For them to pull out all the stops like this... Standing at the edge of the group, Stella glanced up and saw a black Maybach rolling up to the front of the estate. Someone hurried forward to open the door respectfully, and a tall, imposing figure stepped out unhurriedly. The man wore a sleek black suit, his chiseled features sharp, eyes as midnight, radiating a fierce intensity. Every gesture exuded a natural poise and authority that made it tough to hold his stare. The crowd swarmed forward in a rush, but he stayed cool and detached the whole time, his stunningly handsome face as impassive as carved ice, showing zero emotion. Then, as if picking up on something, he looked up toward Stella. Their eyes locked unexpectedly, sending her heart pounding. It was Milford Woodard, Bradly's brother. He'd returned to the country. Though they were brothers in name, Milford wasn't all that tight with the family. He'd headed overseas young and had spent years growing the business abroad. His father Edward Woodard was a total lightweight, good only at spending cash, not earning it. His grandpa Chuck had the smarts and drive, but age was catching up, leaving him unable to manage it all. Real power over the Woodard family had shifted to Milford ages ago. Stella let out a quiet breath. She thought, 'That explains the big crowd today. They've all turned out for Milford.' Chapter 6 Need Help? Stella lingered in the corner of the living room, watching the relatives descend like a swarm of locusts, all scrambling to surround Milford. Bradly stood next to Nadine, flashing a polished smile as he greeted, "Hey, Milford." The uncles who'd been buttering up Bradly just a minute ago quickly switched gears, beaming with over-the-top enthusiasm as they stepped up to say hello. "Milford, what prompted the sudden return?" "Milford, I hear you're in the middle of acquiring a domestic company? You're just getting more impressive by the day." "Come on inside, take a seat. We've got some top-shelf coffee." Bradly caught the stark contrast in the uncles' warmth, his smile fading briefly before he pulled it together and led the way forward. Stella quietly eyed the tall, strikingly handsome Milford striding into the living room like the star of the show, instinctively edging back a step. Now fully pushed to the fringes of the crowd, she shifted aside to let the trailing group pass, doing everything she could to blend into the wallpaper. Milford approached steadily. Unlike Bradly's flashy, outgoing vibe, he had a more brooding, aloof kind of handsomeness, like a pine tree blanketed in snow, regal and intimidating. He acknowledged the flattery around him with simple nods, his eyes scanning the room casually, subtly taking stock of everyone there. Until his gaze swept over Stella again, and he came to an abrupt halt. He paused, causing Bradly to stop too. "Something wrong, Milford?" Milford didn't respond, his steady gaze fixed on Stella. It was only a look, but it jolted her to her core. She felt an odd sense of being claimed, uninvited. Yet she'd barely crossed paths with Milford before. Bradly and the others traced his stare, his eyebrow quirking up. "Stella, come say hi to Big Milford." Stella started to step forward, but Milford beat her to it, walking straight toward her. Bradly and the rest exchanged surprised glances. So far, everyone had been approaching Milford. He hadn't initiated with a soul. Milford's deep eyes gave nothing away. "Stella?" Her breath hitched, like a faint breeze had brushed her ear. She hadn't anticipated him coming over to chat. It had been years, and they'd only met once or twice, but he still remembered her. Stella nodded. "Milford, it's been ages—" Before she could finish, Milford held out his hand. The move was so casual, so natural. Out of pure reflex and politeness, Stella extended hers, their palms connecting. In that brief clasp, she felt him squeeze gently, his thumb settling on her fingers and grazing them with a warm intensity. Milford released after just a second. Suddenly, Bradly sidled up, drawing Stella into his side with an arm around her waist, lacing his fingers through her left hand. He said, "Milford, how long are you in town this time? Stella and I can take you out to dinner one of these days." Milford took in their cozy pose, his glance dropping to their intertwined hands. "About a month." The words had barely left his mouth when Chuck came down the stairs, leaning on the butler for support. Milford headed over to talk with him. Not long after, the kitchen called that the party was ready. Stella trailed Bradly to their seats on the left side of the main table. Everyone filed in and sat. As the eldest branch, the two Woodard brothers took priority. Chuck claimed the head of the main table, with Nadine and Milford next in line. Stella and Bradly fell further down the order, landing her right across from Milford on the diagonal. The family feast got underway, with everyone firing questions at Milford about what he'd been up to lately. Stella kept her head down, nibbling at her food while catching bits of the conversation. Zrester bigwig, major stakeholder in Wonder Group, founder of that financial exchange and the smart transportation AI... Milford's credentials were endless and mind-blowing. She thought back to that Zrester party invite list she'd snagged years ago. Milford was third from the top, while she languished at the bottom. In all these years, she'd had next to no interaction with him. Right after the wedding, this mysterious Milford had only shown up once. He dropped off a gift and vanished. In just a handful of years, Milford had climbed to the pinnacle of Zrester's power players. His talent was obvious. Before long, the family party wound down, and folks scattered to grab desserts. Still hung up on that marriage license, Stella excused herself to head upstairs for a coat change. Bradly was itching to chat with Milford, his gaze fixed that way as he muttered distractedly, "Yeah, go on up." Stella wasted no time hustling upstairs. With the crowd milling about downstairs, she slipped to the third floor of the villa and nudged open Bradly's bedroom door. There it was: the glaring marriage license perched right on top of the nightstand, framed, flanked by their wedding portrait. As she stepped closer, memories of Bradly's cozy moments with Shanna flooded her brain, her nails digging slowly into her palm. That license seared her eyes, like it was sneering at her gullibility. She never should've caved, never should've handed Bradly a second shot. It just went to show that people's hearts circled back for seconds. Disgust flickered in her eyes as she hauled the desk's computer chair over, the kind with wheels and a swivel, shaky at best. She climbed onto it, planting one foot on the bed for stability, teetering just enough to hold steady. Stella hiked up her pearl-white knee-length dress a bit and stretched upward slowly. Fingers extended to the max, but she was still a couple inches shy. She rose onto her tiptoes, straining, but no dice. Frowning from her perch, she scanned around and snagged a book from beside the cabinet. As she leaned down, footsteps suddenly echoed outside the door. Fast, but measured. A man's, for sure. Her pulse spiked. She clutched the table, scrambling to hop down, but, perfect timing, her other sleeve caught on the cabinet's edge. She tugged frantically to break free, but it was too late to descend. The door flew open out of nowhere. Stella went rigid, her knees giving way as she toppled backward off the chair. A quick yelp escaped her, but the expected crash never hit. A firm hand latched precisely onto her thigh, another banding around her waist, hauling her into a solid hold and planting her feet firmly on the floor. She slammed into a warm, toned chest, a crisp, grounding sandalwood aroma enveloping her, not Bradly's scent. Stella glanced up, nearly clipping the guy's chin. Milford let go right away, backing off a step to give her space. Her cheeks burned, the thigh he'd gripped feeling like it was on fire. Mortified and frozen, she stammered, "Th-thanks." Milford stayed composed, his eyes skimming her flushed face and the pinkened patch of skin on her thigh from his hold. His Adam's apple dipped subtly. "Didn't realize you were in here. My bad." Stella shook her head, even more flustered. She was the one imposing on him. Milford flicked a glance upward. "Need some help?" She looked too. Up top, the marriage license screamed for attention. Chapter 7 Don't Let Me Hate You Stella just came out with it. "I want to get the marriage license down." Milford hesitated for a beat, without probing why she needed it, and slid the chair out of the way. Tall and long-limbed, he barely had to tip up on his toes to snag it effortlessly. Milford skimmed the lettering on the license, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes before the faintest quirk tugged at his lips, almost undetectable. He passed it over to Stella. "Ah, I see." She missed the words, taking it with a soft murmur: "Thanks, Milford." Her palms were slick with sweat now, but holding the certificate still sent an icy shiver through her. Those bold letters were a brutal reminder. This whole marriage had been one big joke. From beginning to end, Bradly's grand performance of undying love had always had a third wheel in the shadows. Milford dropped his gaze. Towering over her, all he could make out was the neat swirl at the top of her head, round and oddly appealing. Those slim, pale hands gripped the certificate like a vise, completely bloodless. Milford asked offhandedly, "So, what's the marriage license for?" "Oh, I just want to bring it home and store it there," Stella shot back, pulling an excuse out of thin air. Milford's stare felt like it enveloped her, the heat of it almost scorching, though he kept his hands to himself. Then he casually adjusted his cufflinks and turned to go. Stella let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, sagging against the cool cabinet. Her thigh still tingled with warmth from his grip; she quickly smoothed her skirt down, tucked the license into her bag, and only left the room once everything looked undisturbed. Bradly was still out in the back garden, deep in conversation. Stella kept her face neutral, strolling over to stand at his side. A few relatives were chatting with him. "Hey, word is Milford actually got back a couple days ago, but only tipped us off today." Bradly looked taken aback. "I thought he was flying in today?" "Nope, sounds like he hit up some auction. I only heard bits and pieces, supposedly the other night at the Empire Auction House." "He must not have gone. I was there that evening too, and I didn't see him anywhere," Bradly said, frowning in confusion. Stella's eyelashes flickered subtly, but she played it cool. Out of nowhere, her mind jumped back to that enigmatic bidder in suite 217. She wondered, 'Could Milford be the mystery guest who got the bracelet for me?' She shoved the thought down as soon as it surfaced. They'd only crossed paths once, total strangers really, connected by the flimsiest in-law tie. No matter how you sliced it, Milford wouldn't stick his neck out for her. Just like Bradly said, he hadn't caught wind of anything, so it couldn't be Milford. Stella let it go. After some more mingling, the group started to break up. Bradly steered her over to bid farewell to Milford. "Mom, Milford, we're taking off. Let's set up a family dinner soon when things settle." Milford slouched back in his chair with effortless nonchalance and gave a nod. "I'm knee-deep in an acquisition, no hurry on the get-together. But you..." He lifted his head, his expression sharpening. "Keep your life on the straight and narrow. Don't veer off track." The edge of warning in his voice was crystal clear. Bradly had grown up overshadowed by Milford; he went rigid but brushed it off casually. "Come on, everything's good. My company's running smooth as ever. If you're skeptical, drop by anytime and pore over the financials—knock yourself out." "It's not just about the company," Milford said softly, eyes down as he savored a sip of coffee. Stella couldn't help stealing a glance at him, and in that instant, a ridiculous idea struck her. From what Bradly had mentioned, Milford was abroad most of the time but still had the inside scoop on everything back home. She wondered, 'Does he know about the shady stuff Bradly is up to on the sly?' "Milford, I hear you. I'll make sure to nurture my marriage with Stella, our whole life together." Bradly grinned, threading his fingers through Stella's. Milford's gaze lingered on their joined hands for a second before drifting away, sealed with a subtle nod. Stella had no desire for any more close contact with Bradly, so she subtly shook his hand free without thinking. A split second later, his disbelieving stare locked onto her face, and he tried to grab her again. She'd known her move would humiliate him in the moment, so she didn't bother saying goodbye to Milford. She just turned and walked out ahead. Once they slid into the car, Bradly shed his polite, deferential mask from earlier, reverting to his entitled rich-kid swagger. He tugged his tie loose, a flicker of annoyance pinching his brows. "Always playing the big-brother card to chew me out, same crap since we were little. "So what if he's crushing it overseas? I'm holding my own just fine back home. Who in Ostralver would even think about messing with me?" Bradly fished out a menthol cigarette on autopilot, ready to light up, but he caught himself after glancing at Stella and shoved it back. He said, "All these years, folks have been whispering, or saying it straight to my face, that my company's thriving because of his pull. Like he's behind every damn thing. "And you? You flat-out refused to let me hold your hand back there. Trying to make me look like an idiot in front of him?" His expression iced over, the edge in his voice impossible to miss. Stella's frown deepened as she took it in. Even without knowing Milford all that well, she understood that Bradly's cocky antics in Ostralver, brushing people off like they were nothing, had always been propped up by Milford's clout. She'd assumed the brothers were tight, but clearly Bradly's respect was just for show; underneath, his grudge against Milford simmered deep. She could overlook a lot, but with things the way they were now, there was zero point in him putting on that phony hand-holding act. Stella gripped her bag, the one with the marriage license inside, and couldn't bite her tongue. "We haven't held hands in forever. It feels off to me." The car went dead quiet. She was right. Their physical closeness had dwindled so much that even she couldn't pinpoint the last time. Bradly's brow creased, and he snapped the cigarette filter clean off between his fingers. "What was that?" Stella met his eyes steadily. "From here on out, let's skip the pointless touchy-feely stuff. It just doesn't sit right." She hadn't even finished when the brakes screeched harshly. The car lurched to a halt on the empty shoulder of the road. Stella almost smacked into the window from the force, her pulse hammering as she barked, "Are you out of your mind?" Bradly loomed over her, fingers digging into her chin, irritation boiling in his glare. "Stella, do you have any idea what you're saying?" The pinch stung like crazy, and the absurdity of it all hit her as she wrestled to shove him off. "Is it not true? When's the last time we even held hands. Can you remember?" Bradly's gaze turned stormy, like she'd struck a raw spot. "I bet you're hung up on Milford, just like that girl from the second branch. That's why you pulled away in front of him. You're trying to cut ties with me?" "Bradly! What the hell are you babbling about?" Anger surged through her as she pushed harder. "Don't you dare pin your gross history on me!" The way the family had orbited Milford like he was the sun had obviously gotten under his skin. The more she resisted, the darker his look grew. Abruptly, he leaned in and smashed his mouth against hers. Stella's eyes flew wide, her head whipping aside to evade as she hammered at his shoulders with everything she had. He'd locked lips with Shanna god knows how often. The thought turned her stomach, so she clamped down and bit him hard. Bradly yelped in pain, jerking back as the fog cleared and he clocked what he'd just done, regret flashing across his face. Blood dotted his lip, but he brushed it off, lunging to wrap her in his arms. "I'm sorry, Stella, baby, I'm so sorry. I screwed up; it was a stupid impulse..." Drained of energy, Stella sagged into the passenger seat, letting him hold her while a barren wave of emptiness and revulsion washed over her. The hug she'd once melted into now repulsed her to her core. "Get off me." Her voice came out rough and scratchy. "Bradly, don't push me to hating you."
Chapter 1 Don't Want Him Anymore "I'm sorry, ma'am." On the other end of the line, the insurance customer service rep said coolly, "After checking our records, the car owner, Mr. Woodard, is indeed married, but the spouse listed here isn't you." Stella Daniels had gotten into a car accident on her way to the Woodard Group headquarters. She couldn't get through to Bradly Woodard on his phone, so she had no choice but to call the insurance company. The car was registered in Bradly's name, but as his wife, she should be able to process the claim too. "When Mr. Woodard picked up the car, he came with his wife and provided the original marriage license. Her last name is Erickson, and her full name is Shanna Erickson," the rep said. It hit Stella like a slap in the face. Dizziness washed over her in waves, leaving her whole body shaking uncontrollably. She and Bradly had been childhood sweethearts. Their families were old friends, and everyone in Ostralver's high society knew how clingy he was with her. Bradly couldn't stand being apart from her even for a single day. Three years ago, when Stella headed abroad for her studies, Bradly had the plane stopped just for her. During her three years in Ensland, he expanded his business overseas to make it easier to look after her. Sixteen thousand miles apart, he'd still fly across the ocean every week to see her. The year she came down with a severe lung illness and nearly didn't pull through, she spent a week in intensive care. Bradly ignored the infection risks and stayed right by her side, sliding a ring onto her finger. He said, "If anything happens to you, I'll go with you. We'll be husband and wife in the next life too." For Bradly's sake, she turned down her mentor's offer to stay on in the lab and headed back home. Brimming with excitement, she went to find him, planning to surprise him. But when she pushed open the door to the CEO's office, she saw a slender, pretty woman straddling his lap. The woman's innocent face tilted upward, her voice whiny and aggrieved. "Mr. Woodard, what happens to me now that Stella is back?" Bradly sat in his executive chair, his tall frame looming over her. A flash of ruthlessness crossed his stern features. "You? You're just her stand-in. Don't forget your place." He lifted his hand, pinching her delicate chin with a sneer. "Barely a three-out-of-ten resemblance, and you think you can compare to her?" Stella was still clutching the gift she'd prepared for him. With a loud "bang," it dropped to the floor, finally breaking the scene in the office. Bradly's face drained of color as he shoved the woman off and jumped to his feet. That woman was Shanna. After Stella caught them in the act, Bradly fired Shanna on the spot and pulled out all the stops to win her back. Bradly, the arrogant prince of Ostralver's elite circles, humbled himself to the dust before her, begging her to give him another chance. Any project she set her sights on, he'd drop without a second thought. He stood in the pouring rain outside her building for over a week, just for a glimpse of her. He said, "Stella, I'm not asking you to forgive me. At least let me explain. "I only ever saw Shanna as your replacement. You've been gone abroad for so long; I missed you terribly. I swear, I just kept her around. Nothing more ever happened between us. "That time you walked in, I'd had too much to drink, and she deliberately tempted me. I lost control for a moment... "I've already let her go, and she won't show up in our lives again. Stella, please, come back to me." Back then, Stella couldn't stand even the slightest betrayal. She insisted on breaking off the engagement. Until that one incident. She was kidnapped by a business rival. The kidnappers reneged on the deal, tied her up in an abandoned factory, and set the place ablaze. Bradly charged into the flames without a second thought to rescue her, shielding her from a collapsing steel beam. He ended up gravely injured, confined to bed for nearly six months. By risking his life, Bradly finally melted her resolve. Once he was out of the hospital, she accepted his proposal, and they threw a lavish wedding. In the two years since they tied the knot, he'd treated her just as devotedly as ever, with zero scandals. He even imposed a strict curfew on himself, heading home right on time every day. Even on out-of-town business trips, he'd video call her constantly. His partners would tease him about being henpecked. He never denied it. Instead, he'd grin proudly and say, "A real man takes care of his family." Memories rushed through Stella's mind like a whirlwind, every past moment flashing by in a blur. Her legs buckled, and she dropped to her knees, burying her face in her hands. She couldn't figure out which Bradly was the real one anymore. A bitter, mocking gleam sparked in her eyes. She thought, 'How absurd.' She'd been his wife for two years, and only now was she learning that even their marriage license had been a sham. Stella scrubbed her face hard, her bangs already soaked with cold sweat. She ignored the other driver's furious yelling and calmly dialed the police. They showed up fast. After finishing her statement, Stella left the station under a sky that had gone completely dark. Her phone lit up with several missed calls from Bradly. When she hadn't answered, he'd sent texts instead. Bradly: [Babe, I was tied up in a key meeting this afternoon. Signal jammers were on, so I missed your call. You okay?] Bradly: [I've got a client dinner tonight, so I'll be late getting home. I double-checked: no women involved, so no need to worry.] Bradly: [Head to bed early. Don't wait up. Love you.] Stella stared at the screen, a sharp wave of irony twisting in her gut. Bradly didn't stagger in until the wee hours. He reeked of alcohol, which almost, but not quite, masked the subtle whiff of perfume on him. "Honey..." He could barely keep his balance, stumbling over to wrap his arms around her through the blanket. "I missed you so damn much..." Stella didn't say a word. Only once he was dead to the world did she sit up quietly and unlock his phone with his fingerprint. The thing was squeaky clean, no suspicious traces at all. His contacts were mostly buddies and business folks, with hers pinned at the top as "Darling Wife." Flawlessly tidy, just like their sham of a marriage. Stella hooked the phone up to her computer, and it didn't take long to uncover his second WhatsApp account. She signed in, and right away, messages popped up from a profile with a cute pink kitten avatar, labeled "Baby." Shanna: [Bradly, thanks for tonight. Without you, I wouldn't have known what to do.] Shanna: [I've always thought meeting you was the luckiest thing that's ever happened to me. I won't intrude on your life. As long as you swing by to see me once in a while, that's enough to make me happy.] Stella scrolled back through the history. She'd suspected as much, but seeing it all laid out still hit her like a punch to the chest, leaving her breathless. They chatted nearly every day. Shanna never missed a good morning message, and Bradly's replies had shifted over time, from total silence at first, to sporadic responses, and now to answering every single one. A chill spread through her. Stella clutched the phone tighter, knowing she should quit while she was ahead but unable to stop herself from digging deeper. Shanna: [Bradly, sorry, I had a few drinks and lost it for a bit. Doc says I'm okay now, so don't stress.] Shanna: [Mrs. Woodard's birthday bash is important. Go enjoy it with her. I'll be fine.] Stella squeezed her eyes shut as the memory came rushing back. Her birthday. Bradly had spent over a month planning it down to the last detail, but that day, he was totally distracted. Hell, he almost cut his own hand while slicing the cake. When she'd asked what was up, he'd brushed it off as work drama, told her not to worry, then pulled her into a soft embrace and encouraged her to blow out the candles and make a wish. It all made sense now, as she stared at this chat log. That same day, Shanna had tried to kill herself by slashing her wrists and ended up in the ER. A sour bitterness flooded her chest like a rising tide. In those brief seconds when she'd closed her eyes to wish, she wondered, 'Was he agonizing over Shanna in the hospital, or picturing endless years together with her?' Stella knew she didn't need an answer to that anymore. She gently placed the phone back and looked down at Bradly, fast asleep beside her. She'd known him since she was four, and for the twenty years that followed, she'd truly believed his love was hers alone, irreplaceable. But now she saw it for what it was: just cheap free samples at a store, handed out to anyone who walked by. If that was all it amounted to, she was done with it. Chapter 2 Bid Against Her The next day, Stella woke to find Bradly busy in the kitchen, his broad shoulders narrowing to a slim waist, his tall, lean build moving with purpose. The sight hit her hard, a dull ache tightening in her chest. Bradly had learned to cook entirely for her sake. She still remembered that turbulent period when the Woodard Group was in crisis. His rivals had targeted her, paying off a servant to poison her food. She'd been unconscious for three full days. When she finally woke, Bradly was there, his eyes red-rimmed and veined with exhaustion, gripping her hand like a lifeline. The instant she stirred, the imposing Bradly crumbled forward, enveloping her in a hug as scalding tears fell onto her skin. From then on, Bradly threw himself into cooking lessons, taking charge of all her meals. In less than a month, he'd gone from a spoiled elite who couldn't distinguish spices to turning out dishes worthy of a Michelin chef. Just then, his phone rang. Stella glanced at it but made no move to answer. Bradly darted out of the kitchen, apron still on, grabbing the phone with a barely concealed flash of anxiety. Stella pretended not to notice and went to wash up. When she came back, the table was set with breakfast, and he was slipping into his suit jacket from the coat rack. Seeing her, he said gently, "There's an emergency at work. I have to run. Sorry I can't join you for breakfast." Stella murmured, "Sure, work comes first." He was clearly in a hurry, because he didn't pick up on the new edge of cool distance in her tone and rushed out. She stared blankly after him until he was gone, then dumped the entire spread into the trash. Then she picked up her phone and dialed a number. "That offer you made before? I'm on board." The person on the other end erupted in delight, chattering away before shifting to broken Andosa Language. "Stella, why the sudden change of heart? I've bugged you about this so many times, and you always said you were married now and focusing on family." A mocking glint flickered in Stella's eyes. She thought, 'Married? This so-called marriage has been dead on arrival.' The caller was her former mentor from her overseas studies. He'd reached out lately, hoping she'd join his new team and spearhead a major project. At the time, she'd kept saying no out of loyalty to Bradly. Now, she only wished she'd seen through the absurd joke of their marriage earlier. After the call, she contacted immigration to schedule a passport renewal. It would take about a week. But before heading out, she had one loose end to tie up. That evening, Stella showed up at a private auction at the Cloud Hotel. She was after one of her mother's keepsakes. Her mom had died when she was eight, and soon after, the Daniels family had liquidated her wedding gift. Stella had been hunting down the items ever since. Over the years, she'd only reclaimed a few. Tonight's auction featured a bracelet from that collection, one her mother had picked up on a trip to Ijance. It was utterly unique, irreplaceable. Whatever it took, she was getting it back. Stella settled into her seat just as the auction was about to start. She was flipping through the catalog when Bradly's voice floated over. "Didn't I already pick out that royal blue sapphire set for you? Not good enough?" His voice carried that familiar tenderness. Shanna linked her arm with his, pouting playfully. "Your taste sucks! I want to pick my own birthday gift." Stella watched them quietly until Bradly threaded through the guests and their gazes collided by chance. The color drained from his face. On pure reflex, he jerked his arm away from Shanna. "Stella." He strode over quickly. "I tried calling you a few times, but you didn't answer. Were you planning to surprise me?" Even though he tried to play it cool, she could still catch that subtle hint of panic in his expression. Stella didn't bother calling him on it, replying evenly, "My phone was on silent. I didn't hear it." Bradly visibly relaxed, casually taking her hand in his with a look of concern. "Your hands are like ice. Didn't I warn you about the cold snap today? You're always putting style over staying warm. If you catch a chill, you know it'll just kill me." As he talked, he signaled a server for a blanket and draped it snugly around her shoulders. Stella kept a straight face, brushing him off as she looked past him to Shanna, who lingered behind with a scowl. Shanna nibbled her lip, then defiantly dropped into the seat next to Bradly, her gaze simmering with irritation. Bradly leaned closer, dropping his voice to explain, "We just wrapped up a major project at the company, and Shanna pulled her weight big time. Her birthday's around the corner, so I thought I'd treat her to something as a project bonus." He eyed her anxiously. "Stella, you're not mad, right?" Shanna piped up in a soft, vulnerable tone. "Mrs. Woodard, if this upsets you, I'll just go. I don't want to get in the way of you and Mr. Woodard." Stella's mouth quirked into a smile that never touched her eyes. "We're married. A little thing like this? Of course it doesn't bother me." The auction got underway shortly after. Bradly treated Shanna like she was invisible, focusing entirely on Stella. He paged through the catalog, throwing in bids left and right. "Babe, this would look amazing on you." He grinned, tenderly brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his tone warm and intimate. "You'd be gorgeous in it." Stella averted her eyes, but out of the corner of her vision, she saw Shanna discreetly clutching the edge of Bradly's jacket in the dim light. Their gazes locked for a split second in a shared, lingering look. She masked the derision in her own eyes, struck by how absurd it all was. Bradly seemed totally at ease juggling both women, convinced he was keeping things balanced, one with the official status, the other with his undivided public attention. She thought, 'What could be fairer than that?' But Stella had never been interested in that kind of equilibrium. Her world extended far beyond romance. Bradly? He was just a small detour on her path, a misstep she'd own up to. And now, it was time to set things right. "Next up: a string of bracelet. Fine-grained texture, deep aroma that lingers. Starting bid at 170,000 dollars, with increments of at least 20,000 dollars!" The auctioneer's pumped-up voice echoed through the room. Finally, Stella's main target for the evening. Bids flew in fast, the screen flickering with updates as the auctioneer called out, "Number 17 lady at 200,000 dollars! Number 9 gentleman ups it to 260,000 dollars! Going higher?" Once the initial frenzy tapered off, Stella lifted her paddle. "500,000 dollars." She'd doubled the current bid in one go. It was a hefty amount. Sure, the bracelet was top-notch, but it wasn't the auction's highlight. The room went quiet after her call; no one countered. "Fantastic! Number 11 lady at 500,000 dollars! "500,000 dollars once! 500,000 dollars twice!" The auctioneer hoisted his gavel, poised to bring it down. "No more bids? Then 500,000 dollars—" "520,000 dollars," A gentle, hesitant voice interrupted. Shanna shrank against Bradly's side, paddle in hand, murmuring timidly to him, "Is this where I put in the amount?" Chapter 3 You're Dirty Stella frowned and raised her bid. "540,000 dollars." But Shanna was right behind her, countering with, "560,000 dollars." How annoyingly precise, each time, she stuck to the bare minimum, slapping on just 20,000 dollars more than Stella's offer. Shanna turned toward her, her voice dripping with plea. "Stella, you've got plenty of jewelry already. Please, let me have this one. I adore it. "I'm not like you, born with money, everything handed to you on a silver platter. You snap your fingers and get whatever you want. If it goes any higher, I really won't be able to keep up." Stella didn't bother looking at her, just quirking her lips in a thin smile. "Isn't Mr. Woodard covering the cost for you? What are you stressing about?" Shanna's face went a shade paler, but she answered in that soft, demure tone, "Even so, Mr. Woodard earns his money the hard way. If I can save him a bit, I ought to." She was the epitome of considerate and caring. After several more back-and-forth bids, the bracelet's price had soared to 700,000 dollars. Stella let out a chilly scoff and was opening her mouth to up the ante when Bradly beat her to it. He said, "Babe, why don't we just let Shanna take this bracelet?" Stella's fingers curled into a tight fist, her nails biting into her palm. She lifted her gaze, any lingering warmth in her eyes turning to ice. "What did you just say?" Bradly let out a resigned sigh, giving her hand a comforting pat as he murmured gently, "Babe, I already told Shanna she'd get a gift tonight, and she's got her heart set on this one. No need to compete with her. "Plus, I've already snagged you a handful of other pieces. Isn't that plenty?" He said it all lightly, teasingly, as if it were nothing more than a harmless quip. Stella shut her eyes, a nameless sourness creeping along her nerves, coiling around her heart until it felt like she couldn't draw a breath. Given Shanna's modest background, 700,000 dollars was way out of her league. She wouldn't even make the guest list here on her own. The only reason she was in that seat, trading bids blow for blow, was Bradly's backing. His pampering had delivered her straight into Stella's path. Stella whispered, "What if I refuse to back down?" She hoisted her paddle once more, her voice echoing through the room. "1 million dollars." A hush blanketed the hall. The auctioneer clearly picked up on the drama, his delivery faltering. "Number eleven at 1 million dollars. Do I hear higher?" Shanna's eyes welled up, on the verge of tears, as she cast a helpless look at Bradly before tacking on another fifty thousand. "1 million 20 thousand dollars." Stella's features hardened to frost, and she was poised to fire back when the manager bustled over, bending close to murmur, "Mrs. Woodard, apologies. We ran a credit verification on your account, and it's frozen. Got another one we can use?" The words slammed into her like a bolt from the blue, ringing in her ears. She snapped her head toward Bradly, but he'd already looked away. An icy numbness spread through her arms and legs. She though,t 'Of course, it has to be him.' Her primary account was linked with his; besides her, only he could authorize a freeze on her cards. Triumph flickered in Shanna's eyes as she added with a pointed edge, "Well, in that case, Mrs. Woodard, maybe it's time to step aside. You've got so much already. Can't you let me have this one little thing?" Up on stage, the auction rolled on, the display frozen on Shanna's latest bid: 1 million 20 thousand dollars. Shanna could hardly hide her glee, chirping sweetly, "Go on, call it!" But the words had barely left her lips when someone announced he would bid for the lot at any costs right in the second-floor VIP suite. After a momentary silence, the room burst into chaos. "He's declared absolute intent!" Even the auctioneer's expression changed. He'd been in the game for over a decade, but this was his first encounter with such a scenario. He hurriedly called out, "Lot number six goes to the gentleman in box 217, regardless of how high the price goes." Anyone up in those second-floor VIP suites was either swimming in money or held serious sway in Ostralver's upper crust. Stella glanced upward toward the source of the voice, catching only a vague outline behind the draped curtains. Even when she couldn't see his face, the man's crossed-legged posture radiated an unspoken dominance that pressed down on the room. The auctioneer slammed his gavel down with finality, proclaiming, "Congratulations to our esteemed guest in box 217 on winning lot number six! You're now upgraded to black gold status!" Across all of Ostralver's elite scene, fewer than a handful had ever hit black gold level at these events. Stella wondered, 'Just who is this mystery man?' Stella loosened her clenched fist slightly, torn between relief that her mother's heirloom hadn't landed in Shanna's clutches and anxiety over reclaiming it from this unknown figure. No matter what, she'd stop at nothing, pay any price, to bring her mother's possession home. She rose to her feet, intent on marching over to box 217 for a chat, when the attendant who'd just ducked inside reappeared, tray in hand with the bracelet. "What's this? The bidder in 217 having second thoughts?" "Auctions don't do take-backs." "Probably short on funds. I called it. No one's done this here before." As the murmurs swirled, the attendant headed straight for Stella, dipping into a courteous bow with a warm smile. She said, "Mrs. Woodard, the gentleman in box 217 requests that I deliver the bracelet to you as a gift. He wishes for you to follow your true path and for all to unfold as it should." The place erupted in gossip once more, with guests shooting glances her way, some envious, others skeptical, many flat-out stunned. "Isn't that Mrs. Woodard? What's her deal with the upstairs guy?" "Likely just buttering up Mr. Woodard." "Nah, I don't buy it. Out of all the goodies tonight, why zero in on those beads for Mrs. Woodard? Sounds like she's got a real connection there." The buzz filtered through, and Bradly's face turned stone-cold. In a tight, edged voice, he demanded, "Stella, what's the story with you and whoever's in box 217?" Stella held his piercing stare and said flatly, "I have no idea who he is." "!" Bradly jumped up, clamping down on her wrist like a vice. Her soft, fair skin reddened almost instantly under the pressure. Stella winced sharply, jerking her arm back on reflex. "Bradly, have you lost your mind? Haven't you stirred up enough drama for one day?" But he barreled on, blind to her fury, his reddened eyes locked on her as if he could swallow her up. "What's really between you two? "Stella, through all our married years, I've bent over backward for you. Anything you desired, I served it up without question. Why would you betray me like this?" In his mind, it was already a done deal: she was entangled in something shady with the man above. If the guy was angling for a favor from him, Bradly would've recognized him right away. People in Ostralver didn't beat around the bush when they needed something from him. They came direct. The jab landed raw and direct. Bradly blinked, frozen for a beat as a flicker of alarm shot through his eyes. Chapter 4 Don't Know You'd Come Bradly said, "I'm sorry, Stella. I didn't mean it like that. I had no right getting jealous over you and some stranger. It's all on me." Bradly's eyes reddened. "But honestly, there's nothing going on between Shanna and me. I just brought her along as a thank-you. Can you let this slide?" Seeing his cue, Shanna ducked her head meekly, her voice catching. "That's right, Mrs. Woodard. I've been bending over backward to keep my distance from Mr. Woodard so you wouldn't get the wrong impression. "I'm not asking for the world, just a decent birthday gift. I didn't grow up with your advantages; you've had everything handed to you and even snagged a catch like Mr. Woodard. Can't I at least pick out something for myself?" "Just a gift, huh?" Stella closed in on her, one step at a time. "Ms. Erickson, I've never given a damn about this 'gift' you're going on about. What gets under my skin is you, a Woodard Group employee, crossing lines you have no business crossing." As they drew closer, Bradly instinctively stepped in front of Shanna, his voice soft and coaxing. "Stella, if it's bugging you this much, I'll transfer her to a branch office once the auction's over. "But for now, cut me some slack. Let Shanna have the bracelet. When we get home, name your price on anything, and it's yours." Shanna bobbed her head in agreement, tears glistening on her lashes as she pleaded, "Stella, I really adore this bracelet. You've got it all already. Why go after the one thing I want? "Or is this just because you hate my guts and can't resist taking shots at me?" "What makes you think I'd ever like you?" Stella let out a cold snort. "This belonged to me from the start. Why the hell would I give it up?" She took the bracelet from the attendant with casual ease, her smile sharp but empty. "Ms. Erickson, know your place." Her refusal to budge finally wore through Bradly's patience, erasing every bit of softness from his face. "Stella, do you have to humiliate me like this in front of everyone? Where does that leave my dignity? "It's just a crappy old bracelet. Am I really worth less to you than some trinket?" He said it with such conviction, as if he'd wiped from his memory the solemn vow he'd made when proposing: that he'd hunt down every single one of her mother's sold-off keepsakes, no matter what. Stella's hand flew up, delivering a resounding slap across his cheek. The sharp crack rang out, pulling shocked stares from every corner of the room. Bradly's head snapped sideways, his face livid as he fixed her with a glare, his words hissing through clenched teeth. "Stella, drop the drama already. Have I pampered you too much these days, turning you into this unreasonable nightmare?" Stella reined in her temper, keeping her tone even. "Bradly, you better not live to regret today." Without another word, she turned and walked out, not sparing a backward glance. As her figure receded, Shanna gently touched the angry red mark on Bradly's cheek, her voice full of worry. "Mr. Woodard, are you okay? "Stella's got no boundaries. How could she hit you with all these people watching?" Bradly swatted her hand aside, his nails digging into his palm as he stared after her retreating path. "I've spoiled her rotten, letting her forget that everything she has comes from me." Shanna peeked at his changing expression, testing the waters. "Mr. Woodard, about the bracelet..." Bradly rubbed his throbbing cheek, pulled a bank card from his pocket, and handed it over. "1.7 million dollars on there. Buy whatever catches your eye." Box 217, Stella rapped on the door, eager to thank the mystery bidder face-to-face. Silence. She caught a server walking by. "Excuse me, any idea where the gentleman from this box headed?" "He slipped out right after nabbing the last item," the server said. Disappointment flashed in her eyes, but Stella pressed on, "Do you know who he was?" The server gave her a regretful smile. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard, we're not allowed to spill on our VIPs. Don't make this harder for us." Catching herself, Stella moved out of the way. "Thanks all the same." By the time she made it home from the auction, an hour had ticked by. Stella went straight up to the study, fired up the computer, and dove into the assets registered under her and Bradly's names. After tallying up the numbers, she snatched her phone, found lawyer Rubin Cobb's contact, and hit dial. She said, "I've sorted out the asset division documents for me and Bradly and sent them over. I need you to handle the property split by tomorrow." Rubin quickly received the files and nodded respectfully. "Of course, Mrs. Woodard. I'll get right on it." Stella stared intently at her computer screen, her grip tightening on the mouse. "If Bradly's committed bigamy, how should our assets be divided?" "Generally, any property the bigamous party gained through the bigamy can be claimed back by the other spouse," Rubin replied matter-of-factly. Half of Bradly's current wealth had come from Stella's investments to support his career early on. Her expression darkened, and she promptly forwarded the marriage license between him and Shanna. "Rubin, please use every legal avenue to recover my half of the assets." After hanging up, Stella slumped back in her chair, utterly drained physically and emotionally. She closed her eyes slowly, but sleep was nowhere in sight. Bradly would never agree to a divorce. Until she had everything locked down, she couldn't let on that anything was amiss. Just then, the study door was kicked open from the outside. Bradly flung his jacket onto the desk and yanked Stella up from her seat in front of the computer. "Do you realize that because of your little outburst, I've become a laughingstock in our circles? "What exactly do you want? Are you still obsessing over what happened back then?" Stella opened her eyes slowly, her gaze settling calmly on Bradly, but she remained silent. A fire raged in Bradly's chest, intensifying by the second, and he couldn't hold back his fury any longer. "Since we got married, have I ever done anything to wrong you? I come home right on time every night after work, I always fill you in on any business dinners, and if there's even a hint of a woman involved, I skip them entirely! I've bent over backward, and it's still not good enough for you?" He remembered every detail crystal clear. In his mind, these were the sacrifices he'd made to marry her. Stella suddenly found the whole thing absurd. She couldn't bear to look at him anymore, so she stood up and walked straight out of the study without a backward glance. Behind her, Bradly's voice echoed heavily. "Stella, no matter what you think, my conscience is clear." It felt like Stella's heart had been shattered into icy fragments, a sharp, bitter pain surging through her. Her mind buzzed, and for a moment, all she could hear was that phrase repeating over and over. She thought, 'My conscience is clear? So, in his eyes, everything he's done is perfectly justifiable.' The next morning, when Stella woke up, Bradly was already gone. On the table sat the breakfast he'd prepared, tailored exactly to her tastes. Stella pressed her lips together, her feelings a complicated tangle. They'd ended things on a sour note last night, yet Bradly had still made her breakfast this morning. But this was the same man who'd lied to her for years. No matter what, it was time to end things with Bradly. She didn't touch the food and headed straight to the office. These past few years, she'd stayed out of Bradly's business dealings. A lot of her old financial records were outdated now, and she needed the latest reports. The secretary looked startled when she saw her, then managed to say, "Mrs. Woodard, are you here to see Mr. Woodard?" "No." Stella replied evenly. "Send the finance manager in to see me." Her shares were second only to Bradly's, giving her full access to every aspect of the company. The secretary hesitated briefly before nodding. Stella noticed her immediately turning to make a phone call, probably alerting Bradly. Stella didn't intervene; let her. She settled into the finance office, sipping her coffee absentmindedly while flipping through magazines on the shelf. Most were glossy entertainment rags, mixed in with novels and comics. Stella frowned, only now picking up on the details: the desk was covered in a pink plaid mat, cluttered with adorable plush toys. The standout pair was a set of couple dolls, their outfits emblazoned with the letters W and E. It hit Stella suddenly what that meant, and just then, the door behind her swung open. Shanna rushed in. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard." She was clutching a cup of coffee as she apologized. "I had no idea you'd drop by like this..." Chapter 5 All For Milford Stella arched an eyebrow as she looked her over. "So you're the finance manager?" Shanna nodded with a quick smile. "That's me. If you need anything at all, just say the word. Bradly, well, Mr. Woodard is tied up in a meeting right now. But don't worry, I'll make sure to relay whatever message you have." Stella let out a soft laugh. "No need for that." She regarded Shanna with clear curiosity. "I'm not looking for Bradly. I'm here to see you." Shanna's smile faltered for a moment before she recovered, her tone turning gentle. "Mrs. Woodard, I get that you're still bothered by what went down at the auction last night, but there's no reason to be so worked up about my connection to Mr. Woodard. After all..." She raised her hand, the elegant diamond ring on her finger glinting under the light, perfectly complementing her bashful grin. "I'm already married, and things are great between me and my husband." Stella's eyes locked on the ring, her breath hitching just for an instant. It was ridiculous. In this whole messed-up situation, she was the one playing the role of the mistress. The ring was an exact match for the one Bradly had given her during his proposal. But within seconds, Stella averted her gaze. "It's a lovely ring, but you're mistaken." She spoke unhurriedly, "I'm just here to grab the latest financial report from you. That's all." Stella caught the sour shift in Shanna's expression and smiled to herself. "Seems like you're the one on edge here, Ms. Erickson." Shanna's face transformed completely, that smug spark in her eyes snuffed out. She bit her lip, unable to find words for a long beat. Stella watched her with unruffled poise. "Do I need to repeat my request, Ms. Erickson?" The words had barely left her mouth when Bradly burst in, his expression clouding over at the sight. "Stella, wasn't the scene from last night enough?" His voice was laced with ice. "How long are you planning to drag this out? I've told you already. There's nothing going on between me and Shanna. If you don't believe me..." Stella interrupted him mid-sentence, "Oh, I believe you. Absolutely." A faint smirk tugged at her lips, though her eyes remained frosty as they settled on Shanna. "After all, Ms. Erickson's already married. She just mentioned it herself." The statement landed like a bomb. Shanna's face drained of color, and Bradly's followed suit. He shot her a withering glare. Tears sprang to Shanna's eyes in an instant. Stella had no interest in watching the drama unfold any further. She said evenly, "I'm here for this year's financials. I hold forty percent of the company. Surely I can access that, right?" Bradly seemed to snap back to reality, nodding hastily. "Of course you can." He barked orders at the secretary to fetch it immediately, all the while stealing wary glances at her face. Once he confirmed she wasn't giving anything away, he exhaled almost imperceptibly in relief. He said, "Stella, what's with the sudden interest? You've never bothered with company matters before." Stella answered coolly, "After the account freeze last night, I decided it's smarter to set up a separate one." Bradly's expression froze again. "Stella..." The secretary returned promptly with the report. Stella brushed Bradly aside, skimmed through it quickly, and was heading for the door when he caught her by the wrist. He said, "Stella, about the family dinner tonight, are you coming home with me?" His tone was pleading, like he needed her answer to reassure himself that she hadn't caught on to anything fishy. Stella didn't look back, just replying calmly, "Sure." Bradly's face lit up. "Great, I'll swing by after work to pick you up." Stella dropped her gaze, masking the cool detachment in her eyes. She'd only agreed to head back to the family estate for one specific reason. The marriage license from when she and Bradly had tied the knot was a phony, but he'd made a whole production out of stashing it away at the house, claiming it had to be kept secure. Nothing could serve as stronger proof. Once she got her hands on it, his bigamy would be ironclad. Stella didn't bother waiting for Bradly; she hailed a cab and got there ahead of time. She'd figured it was just a standard family gathering, but she was caught off guard by the full turnout. Bradly's parents, fresh from their overseas vacation last week, were back, and even the distant relatives from the Woodard family's side branches had shown up en masse. "Stella, dear." As she walked in, Nadine Woodard peered over her shoulder. "Bradly didn't come with you?" Stella answered evenly, "He'll be along shortly." Nadine clicked her tongue, her irritation obvious. "On an important occasion like this, letting someone from outside the family arrive solo, what's got into him?" Stella's brow furrowed just a touch. She and Bradly had been engaged since childhood, but after her mother's passing, the Daniels family's status had tanked while the Woodard family kept climbing. That was when Nadine started pushing to scrap the arrangement, and she'd mentioned it more than a few times. But Chuck Woodard was upright and principled, flat-out refusing to play the social-climbing game. With Bradly dead set on marrying her and no one else, Nadine had reluctantly given in, though she made her resentment clear. Even after the marriage, she never passed up an opportunity to give Stella the cold shoulder. She was about to add something else when the butler rushed in and murmured, "He's here." Nadine promptly dropped the subject with Stella and jumped to her feet, the extended family hustling out right behind her to welcome the arrivals. The level of pomp surprised Stella. The Woodard family was already at the top of Ostralver's social elite. For them to pull out all the stops like this... Standing at the edge of the group, Stella glanced up and saw a black Maybach rolling up to the front of the estate. Someone hurried forward to open the door respectfully, and a tall, imposing figure stepped out unhurriedly. The man wore a sleek black suit, his chiseled features sharp, eyes as midnight, radiating a fierce intensity. Every gesture exuded a natural poise and authority that made it tough to hold his stare. The crowd swarmed forward in a rush, but he stayed cool and detached the whole time, his stunningly handsome face as impassive as carved ice, showing zero emotion. Then, as if picking up on something, he looked up toward Stella. Their eyes locked unexpectedly, sending her heart pounding. It was Milford Woodard, Bradly's brother. He'd returned to the country. Though they were brothers in name, Milford wasn't all that tight with the family. He'd headed overseas young and had spent years growing the business abroad. His father Edward Woodard was a total lightweight, good only at spending cash, not earning it. His grandpa Chuck had the smarts and drive, but age was catching up, leaving him unable to manage it all. Real power over the Woodard family had shifted to Milford ages ago. Stella let out a quiet breath. She thought, 'That explains the big crowd today. They've all turned out for Milford.' Chapter 6 Need Help? Stella lingered in the corner of the living room, watching the relatives descend like a swarm of locusts, all scrambling to surround Milford. Bradly stood next to Nadine, flashing a polished smile as he greeted, "Hey, Milford." The uncles who'd been buttering up Bradly just a minute ago quickly switched gears, beaming with over-the-top enthusiasm as they stepped up to say hello. "Milford, what prompted the sudden return?" "Milford, I hear you're in the middle of acquiring a domestic company? You're just getting more impressive by the day." "Come on inside, take a seat. We've got some top-shelf coffee." Bradly caught the stark contrast in the uncles' warmth, his smile fading briefly before he pulled it together and led the way forward. Stella quietly eyed the tall, strikingly handsome Milford striding into the living room like the star of the show, instinctively edging back a step. Now fully pushed to the fringes of the crowd, she shifted aside to let the trailing group pass, doing everything she could to blend into the wallpaper. Milford approached steadily. Unlike Bradly's flashy, outgoing vibe, he had a more brooding, aloof kind of handsomeness, like a pine tree blanketed in snow, regal and intimidating. He acknowledged the flattery around him with simple nods, his eyes scanning the room casually, subtly taking stock of everyone there. Until his gaze swept over Stella again, and he came to an abrupt halt. He paused, causing Bradly to stop too. "Something wrong, Milford?" Milford didn't respond, his steady gaze fixed on Stella. It was only a look, but it jolted her to her core. She felt an odd sense of being claimed, uninvited. Yet she'd barely crossed paths with Milford before. Bradly and the others traced his stare, his eyebrow quirking up. "Stella, come say hi to Big Milford." Stella started to step forward, but Milford beat her to it, walking straight toward her. Bradly and the rest exchanged surprised glances. So far, everyone had been approaching Milford. He hadn't initiated with a soul. Milford's deep eyes gave nothing away. "Stella?" Her breath hitched, like a faint breeze had brushed her ear. She hadn't anticipated him coming over to chat. It had been years, and they'd only met once or twice, but he still remembered her. Stella nodded. "Milford, it's been ages—" Before she could finish, Milford held out his hand. The move was so casual, so natural. Out of pure reflex and politeness, Stella extended hers, their palms connecting. In that brief clasp, she felt him squeeze gently, his thumb settling on her fingers and grazing them with a warm intensity. Milford released after just a second. Suddenly, Bradly sidled up, drawing Stella into his side with an arm around her waist, lacing his fingers through her left hand. He said, "Milford, how long are you in town this time? Stella and I can take you out to dinner one of these days." Milford took in their cozy pose, his glance dropping to their intertwined hands. "About a month." The words had barely left his mouth when Chuck came down the stairs, leaning on the butler for support. Milford headed over to talk with him. Not long after, the kitchen called that the party was ready. Stella trailed Bradly to their seats on the left side of the main table. Everyone filed in and sat. As the eldest branch, the two Woodard brothers took priority. Chuck claimed the head of the main table, with Nadine and Milford next in line. Stella and Bradly fell further down the order, landing her right across from Milford on the diagonal. The family feast got underway, with everyone firing questions at Milford about what he'd been up to lately. Stella kept her head down, nibbling at her food while catching bits of the conversation. Zrester bigwig, major stakeholder in Wonder Group, founder of that financial exchange and the smart transportation AI... Milford's credentials were endless and mind-blowing. She thought back to that Zrester party invite list she'd snagged years ago. Milford was third from the top, while she languished at the bottom. In all these years, she'd had next to no interaction with him. Right after the wedding, this mysterious Milford had only shown up once. He dropped off a gift and vanished. In just a handful of years, Milford had climbed to the pinnacle of Zrester's power players. His talent was obvious. Before long, the family party wound down, and folks scattered to grab desserts. Still hung up on that marriage license, Stella excused herself to head upstairs for a coat change. Bradly was itching to chat with Milford, his gaze fixed that way as he muttered distractedly, "Yeah, go on up." Stella wasted no time hustling upstairs. With the crowd milling about downstairs, she slipped to the third floor of the villa and nudged open Bradly's bedroom door. There it was: the glaring marriage license perched right on top of the nightstand, framed, flanked by their wedding portrait. As she stepped closer, memories of Bradly's cozy moments with Shanna flooded her brain, her nails digging slowly into her palm. That license seared her eyes, like it was sneering at her gullibility. She never should've caved, never should've handed Bradly a second shot. It just went to show that people's hearts circled back for seconds. Disgust flickered in her eyes as she hauled the desk's computer chair over, the kind with wheels and a swivel, shaky at best. She climbed onto it, planting one foot on the bed for stability, teetering just enough to hold steady. Stella hiked up her pearl-white knee-length dress a bit and stretched upward slowly. Fingers extended to the max, but she was still a couple inches shy. She rose onto her tiptoes, straining, but no dice. Frowning from her perch, she scanned around and snagged a book from beside the cabinet. As she leaned down, footsteps suddenly echoed outside the door. Fast, but measured. A man's, for sure. Her pulse spiked. She clutched the table, scrambling to hop down, but, perfect timing, her other sleeve caught on the cabinet's edge. She tugged frantically to break free, but it was too late to descend. The door flew open out of nowhere. Stella went rigid, her knees giving way as she toppled backward off the chair. A quick yelp escaped her, but the expected crash never hit. A firm hand latched precisely onto her thigh, another banding around her waist, hauling her into a solid hold and planting her feet firmly on the floor. She slammed into a warm, toned chest, a crisp, grounding sandalwood aroma enveloping her, not Bradly's scent. Stella glanced up, nearly clipping the guy's chin. Milford let go right away, backing off a step to give her space. Her cheeks burned, the thigh he'd gripped feeling like it was on fire. Mortified and frozen, she stammered, "Th-thanks." Milford stayed composed, his eyes skimming her flushed face and the pinkened patch of skin on her thigh from his hold. His Adam's apple dipped subtly. "Didn't realize you were in here. My bad." Stella shook her head, even more flustered. She was the one imposing on him. Milford flicked a glance upward. "Need some help?" She looked too. Up top, the marriage license screamed for attention. Chapter 7 Don't Let Me Hate You Stella just came out with it. "I want to get the marriage license down." Milford hesitated for a beat, without probing why she needed it, and slid the chair out of the way. Tall and long-limbed, he barely had to tip up on his toes to snag it effortlessly. Milford skimmed the lettering on the license, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes before the faintest quirk tugged at his lips, almost undetectable. He passed it over to Stella. "Ah, I see." She missed the words, taking it with a soft murmur: "Thanks, Milford." Her palms were slick with sweat now, but holding the certificate still sent an icy shiver through her. Those bold letters were a brutal reminder. This whole marriage had been one big joke. From beginning to end, Bradly's grand performance of undying love had always had a third wheel in the shadows. Milford dropped his gaze. Towering over her, all he could make out was the neat swirl at the top of her head, round and oddly appealing. Those slim, pale hands gripped the certificate like a vise, completely bloodless. Milford asked offhandedly, "So, what's the marriage license for?" "Oh, I just want to bring it home and store it there," Stella shot back, pulling an excuse out of thin air. Milford's stare felt like it enveloped her, the heat of it almost scorching, though he kept his hands to himself. Then he casually adjusted his cufflinks and turned to go. Stella let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, sagging against the cool cabinet. Her thigh still tingled with warmth from his grip; she quickly smoothed her skirt down, tucked the license into her bag, and only left the room once everything looked undisturbed. Bradly was still out in the back garden, deep in conversation. Stella kept her face neutral, strolling over to stand at his side. A few relatives were chatting with him. "Hey, word is Milford actually got back a couple days ago, but only tipped us off today." Bradly looked taken aback. "I thought he was flying in today?" "Nope, sounds like he hit up some auction. I only heard bits and pieces, supposedly the other night at the Empire Auction House." "He must not have gone. I was there that evening too, and I didn't see him anywhere," Bradly said, frowning in confusion. Stella's eyelashes flickered subtly, but she played it cool. Out of nowhere, her mind jumped back to that enigmatic bidder in suite 217. She wondered, 'Could Milford be the mystery guest who got the bracelet for me?' She shoved the thought down as soon as it surfaced. They'd only crossed paths once, total strangers really, connected by the flimsiest in-law tie. No matter how you sliced it, Milford wouldn't stick his neck out for her. Just like Bradly said, he hadn't caught wind of anything, so it couldn't be Milford. Stella let it go. After some more mingling, the group started to break up. Bradly steered her over to bid farewell to Milford. "Mom, Milford, we're taking off. Let's set up a family dinner soon when things settle." Milford slouched back in his chair with effortless nonchalance and gave a nod. "I'm knee-deep in an acquisition, no hurry on the get-together. But you..." He lifted his head, his expression sharpening. "Keep your life on the straight and narrow. Don't veer off track." The edge of warning in his voice was crystal clear. Bradly had grown up overshadowed by Milford; he went rigid but brushed it off casually. "Come on, everything's good. My company's running smooth as ever. If you're skeptical, drop by anytime and pore over the financials—knock yourself out." "It's not just about the company," Milford said softly, eyes down as he savored a sip of coffee. Stella couldn't help stealing a glance at him, and in that instant, a ridiculous idea struck her. From what Bradly had mentioned, Milford was abroad most of the time but still had the inside scoop on everything back home. She wondered, 'Does he know about the shady stuff Bradly is up to on the sly?' "Milford, I hear you. I'll make sure to nurture my marriage with Stella, our whole life together." Bradly grinned, threading his fingers through Stella's. Milford's gaze lingered on their joined hands for a second before drifting away, sealed with a subtle nod. Stella had no desire for any more close contact with Bradly, so she subtly shook his hand free without thinking. A split second later, his disbelieving stare locked onto her face, and he tried to grab her again. She'd known her move would humiliate him in the moment, so she didn't bother saying goodbye to Milford. She just turned and walked out ahead. Once they slid into the car, Bradly shed his polite, deferential mask from earlier, reverting to his entitled rich-kid swagger. He tugged his tie loose, a flicker of annoyance pinching his brows. "Always playing the big-brother card to chew me out, same crap since we were little. "So what if he's crushing it overseas? I'm holding my own just fine back home. Who in Ostralver would even think about messing with me?" Bradly fished out a menthol cigarette on autopilot, ready to light up, but he caught himself after glancing at Stella and shoved it back. He said, "All these years, folks have been whispering, or saying it straight to my face, that my company's thriving because of his pull. Like he's behind every damn thing. "And you? You flat-out refused to let me hold your hand back there. Trying to make me look like an idiot in front of him?" His expression iced over, the edge in his voice impossible to miss. Stella's frown deepened as she took it in. Even without knowing Milford all that well, she understood that Bradly's cocky antics in Ostralver, brushing people off like they were nothing, had always been propped up by Milford's clout. She'd assumed the brothers were tight, but clearly Bradly's respect was just for show; underneath, his grudge against Milford simmered deep. She could overlook a lot, but with things the way they were now, there was zero point in him putting on that phony hand-holding act. Stella gripped her bag, the one with the marriage license inside, and couldn't bite her tongue. "We haven't held hands in forever. It feels off to me." The car went dead quiet. She was right. Their physical closeness had dwindled so much that even she couldn't pinpoint the last time. Bradly's brow creased, and he snapped the cigarette filter clean off between his fingers. "What was that?" Stella met his eyes steadily. "From here on out, let's skip the pointless touchy-feely stuff. It just doesn't sit right." She hadn't even finished when the brakes screeched harshly. The car lurched to a halt on the empty shoulder of the road. Stella almost smacked into the window from the force, her pulse hammering as she barked, "Are you out of your mind?" Bradly loomed over her, fingers digging into her chin, irritation boiling in his glare. "Stella, do you have any idea what you're saying?" The pinch stung like crazy, and the absurdity of it all hit her as she wrestled to shove him off. "Is it not true? When's the last time we even held hands. Can you remember?" Bradly's gaze turned stormy, like she'd struck a raw spot. "I bet you're hung up on Milford, just like that girl from the second branch. That's why you pulled away in front of him. You're trying to cut ties with me?" "Bradly! What the hell are you babbling about?" Anger surged through her as she pushed harder. "Don't you dare pin your gross history on me!" The way the family had orbited Milford like he was the sun had obviously gotten under his skin. The more she resisted, the darker his look grew. Abruptly, he leaned in and smashed his mouth against hers. Stella's eyes flew wide, her head whipping aside to evade as she hammered at his shoulders with everything she had. He'd locked lips with Shanna god knows how often. The thought turned her stomach, so she clamped down and bit him hard. Bradly yelped in pain, jerking back as the fog cleared and he clocked what he'd just done, regret flashing across his face. Blood dotted his lip, but he brushed it off, lunging to wrap her in his arms. "I'm sorry, Stella, baby, I'm so sorry. I screwed up; it was a stupid impulse..." Drained of energy, Stella sagged into the passenger seat, letting him hold her while a barren wave of emptiness and revulsion washed over her. The hug she'd once melted into now repulsed her to her core. "Get off me." Her voice came out rough and scratchy. "Bradly, don't push me to hating you."
Chapter 1 Don't Want Him Anymore "I'm sorry, ma'am." On the other end of the line, the insurance customer service rep said coolly, "After checking our records, the car owner, Mr. Woodard, is indeed married, but the spouse listed here isn't you." Stella Daniels had gotten into a car accident on her way to the Woodard Group headquarters. She couldn't get through to Bradly Woodard on his phone, so she had no choice but to call the insurance company. The car was registered in Bradly's name, but as his wife, she should be able to process the claim too. "When Mr. Woodard picked up the car, he came with his wife and provided the original marriage license. Her last name is Erickson, and her full name is Shanna Erickson," the rep said. It hit Stella like a slap in the face. Dizziness washed over her in waves, leaving her whole body shaking uncontrollably. She and Bradly had been childhood sweethearts. Their families were old friends, and everyone in Ostralver's high society knew how clingy he was with her. Bradly couldn't stand being apart from her even for a single day. Three years ago, when Stella headed abroad for her studies, Bradly had the plane stopped just for her. During her three years in Ensland, he expanded his business overseas to make it easier to look after her. Sixteen thousand miles apart, he'd still fly across the ocean every week to see her. The year she came down with a severe lung illness and nearly didn't pull through, she spent a week in intensive care. Bradly ignored the infection risks and stayed right by her side, sliding a ring onto her finger. He said, "If anything happens to you, I'll go with you. We'll be husband and wife in the next life too." For Bradly's sake, she turned down her mentor's offer to stay on in the lab and headed back home. Brimming with excitement, she went to find him, planning to surprise him. But when she pushed open the door to the CEO's office, she saw a slender, pretty woman straddling his lap. The woman's innocent face tilted upward, her voice whiny and aggrieved. "Mr. Woodard, what happens to me now that Stella is back?" Bradly sat in his executive chair, his tall frame looming over her. A flash of ruthlessness crossed his stern features. "You? You're just her stand-in. Don't forget your place." He lifted his hand, pinching her delicate chin with a sneer. "Barely a three-out-of-ten resemblance, and you think you can compare to her?" Stella was still clutching the gift she'd prepared for him. With a loud "bang," it dropped to the floor, finally breaking the scene in the office. Bradly's face drained of color as he shoved the woman off and jumped to his feet. That woman was Shanna. After Stella caught them in the act, Bradly fired Shanna on the spot and pulled out all the stops to win her back. Bradly, the arrogant prince of Ostralver's elite circles, humbled himself to the dust before her, begging her to give him another chance. Any project she set her sights on, he'd drop without a second thought. He stood in the pouring rain outside her building for over a week, just for a glimpse of her. He said, "Stella, I'm not asking you to forgive me. At least let me explain. "I only ever saw Shanna as your replacement. You've been gone abroad for so long; I missed you terribly. I swear, I just kept her around. Nothing more ever happened between us. "That time you walked in, I'd had too much to drink, and she deliberately tempted me. I lost control for a moment... "I've already let her go, and she won't show up in our lives again. Stella, please, come back to me." Back then, Stella couldn't stand even the slightest betrayal. She insisted on breaking off the engagement. Until that one incident. She was kidnapped by a business rival. The kidnappers reneged on the deal, tied her up in an abandoned factory, and set the place ablaze. Bradly charged into the flames without a second thought to rescue her, shielding her from a collapsing steel beam. He ended up gravely injured, confined to bed for nearly six months. By risking his life, Bradly finally melted her resolve. Once he was out of the hospital, she accepted his proposal, and they threw a lavish wedding. In the two years since they tied the knot, he'd treated her just as devotedly as ever, with zero scandals. He even imposed a strict curfew on himself, heading home right on time every day. Even on out-of-town business trips, he'd video call her constantly. His partners would tease him about being henpecked. He never denied it. Instead, he'd grin proudly and say, "A real man takes care of his family." Memories rushed through Stella's mind like a whirlwind, every past moment flashing by in a blur. Her legs buckled, and she dropped to her knees, burying her face in her hands. She couldn't figure out which Bradly was the real one anymore. A bitter, mocking gleam sparked in her eyes. She thought, 'How absurd.' She'd been his wife for two years, and only now was she learning that even their marriage license had been a sham. Stella scrubbed her face hard, her bangs already soaked with cold sweat. She ignored the other driver's furious yelling and calmly dialed the police. They showed up fast. After finishing her statement, Stella left the station under a sky that had gone completely dark. Her phone lit up with several missed calls from Bradly. When she hadn't answered, he'd sent texts instead. Bradly: [Babe, I was tied up in a key meeting this afternoon. Signal jammers were on, so I missed your call. You okay?] Bradly: [I've got a client dinner tonight, so I'll be late getting home. I double-checked: no women involved, so no need to worry.] Bradly: [Head to bed early. Don't wait up. Love you.] Stella stared at the screen, a sharp wave of irony twisting in her gut. Bradly didn't stagger in until the wee hours. He reeked of alcohol, which almost, but not quite, masked the subtle whiff of perfume on him. "Honey..." He could barely keep his balance, stumbling over to wrap his arms around her through the blanket. "I missed you so damn much..." Stella didn't say a word. Only once he was dead to the world did she sit up quietly and unlock his phone with his fingerprint. The thing was squeaky clean, no suspicious traces at all. His contacts were mostly buddies and business folks, with hers pinned at the top as "Darling Wife." Flawlessly tidy, just like their sham of a marriage. Stella hooked the phone up to her computer, and it didn't take long to uncover his second WhatsApp account. She signed in, and right away, messages popped up from a profile with a cute pink kitten avatar, labeled "Baby." Shanna: [Bradly, thanks for tonight. Without you, I wouldn't have known what to do.] Shanna: [I've always thought meeting you was the luckiest thing that's ever happened to me. I won't intrude on your life. As long as you swing by to see me once in a while, that's enough to make me happy.] Stella scrolled back through the history. She'd suspected as much, but seeing it all laid out still hit her like a punch to the chest, leaving her breathless. They chatted nearly every day. Shanna never missed a good morning message, and Bradly's replies had shifted over time, from total silence at first, to sporadic responses, and now to answering every single one. A chill spread through her. Stella clutched the phone tighter, knowing she should quit while she was ahead but unable to stop herself from digging deeper. Shanna: [Bradly, sorry, I had a few drinks and lost it for a bit. Doc says I'm okay now, so don't stress.] Shanna: [Mrs. Woodard's birthday bash is important. Go enjoy it with her. I'll be fine.] Stella squeezed her eyes shut as the memory came rushing back. Her birthday. Bradly had spent over a month planning it down to the last detail, but that day, he was totally distracted. Hell, he almost cut his own hand while slicing the cake. When she'd asked what was up, he'd brushed it off as work drama, told her not to worry, then pulled her into a soft embrace and encouraged her to blow out the candles and make a wish. It all made sense now, as she stared at this chat log. That same day, Shanna had tried to kill herself by slashing her wrists and ended up in the ER. A sour bitterness flooded her chest like a rising tide. In those brief seconds when she'd closed her eyes to wish, she wondered, 'Was he agonizing over Shanna in the hospital, or picturing endless years together with her?' Stella knew she didn't need an answer to that anymore. She gently placed the phone back and looked down at Bradly, fast asleep beside her. She'd known him since she was four, and for the twenty years that followed, she'd truly believed his love was hers alone, irreplaceable. But now she saw it for what it was: just cheap free samples at a store, handed out to anyone who walked by. If that was all it amounted to, she was done with it. Chapter 2 Bid Against Her The next day, Stella woke to find Bradly busy in the kitchen, his broad shoulders narrowing to a slim waist, his tall, lean build moving with purpose. The sight hit her hard, a dull ache tightening in her chest. Bradly had learned to cook entirely for her sake. She still remembered that turbulent period when the Woodard Group was in crisis. His rivals had targeted her, paying off a servant to poison her food. She'd been unconscious for three full days. When she finally woke, Bradly was there, his eyes red-rimmed and veined with exhaustion, gripping her hand like a lifeline. The instant she stirred, the imposing Bradly crumbled forward, enveloping her in a hug as scalding tears fell onto her skin. From then on, Bradly threw himself into cooking lessons, taking charge of all her meals. In less than a month, he'd gone from a spoiled elite who couldn't distinguish spices to turning out dishes worthy of a Michelin chef. Just then, his phone rang. Stella glanced at it but made no move to answer. Bradly darted out of the kitchen, apron still on, grabbing the phone with a barely concealed flash of anxiety. Stella pretended not to notice and went to wash up. When she came back, the table was set with breakfast, and he was slipping into his suit jacket from the coat rack. Seeing her, he said gently, "There's an emergency at work. I have to run. Sorry I can't join you for breakfast." Stella murmured, "Sure, work comes first." He was clearly in a hurry, because he didn't pick up on the new edge of cool distance in her tone and rushed out. She stared blankly after him until he was gone, then dumped the entire spread into the trash. Then she picked up her phone and dialed a number. "That offer you made before? I'm on board." The person on the other end erupted in delight, chattering away before shifting to broken Andosa Language. "Stella, why the sudden change of heart? I've bugged you about this so many times, and you always said you were married now and focusing on family." A mocking glint flickered in Stella's eyes. She thought, 'Married? This so-called marriage has been dead on arrival.' The caller was her former mentor from her overseas studies. He'd reached out lately, hoping she'd join his new team and spearhead a major project. At the time, she'd kept saying no out of loyalty to Bradly. Now, she only wished she'd seen through the absurd joke of their marriage earlier. After the call, she contacted immigration to schedule a passport renewal. It would take about a week. But before heading out, she had one loose end to tie up. That evening, Stella showed up at a private auction at the Cloud Hotel. She was after one of her mother's keepsakes. Her mom had died when she was eight, and soon after, the Daniels family had liquidated her wedding gift. Stella had been hunting down the items ever since. Over the years, she'd only reclaimed a few. Tonight's auction featured a bracelet from that collection, one her mother had picked up on a trip to Ijance. It was utterly unique, irreplaceable. Whatever it took, she was getting it back. Stella settled into her seat just as the auction was about to start. She was flipping through the catalog when Bradly's voice floated over. "Didn't I already pick out that royal blue sapphire set for you? Not good enough?" His voice carried that familiar tenderness. Shanna linked her arm with his, pouting playfully. "Your taste sucks! I want to pick my own birthday gift." Stella watched them quietly until Bradly threaded through the guests and their gazes collided by chance. The color drained from his face. On pure reflex, he jerked his arm away from Shanna. "Stella." He strode over quickly. "I tried calling you a few times, but you didn't answer. Were you planning to surprise me?" Even though he tried to play it cool, she could still catch that subtle hint of panic in his expression. Stella didn't bother calling him on it, replying evenly, "My phone was on silent. I didn't hear it." Bradly visibly relaxed, casually taking her hand in his with a look of concern. "Your hands are like ice. Didn't I warn you about the cold snap today? You're always putting style over staying warm. If you catch a chill, you know it'll just kill me." As he talked, he signaled a server for a blanket and draped it snugly around her shoulders. Stella kept a straight face, brushing him off as she looked past him to Shanna, who lingered behind with a scowl. Shanna nibbled her lip, then defiantly dropped into the seat next to Bradly, her gaze simmering with irritation. Bradly leaned closer, dropping his voice to explain, "We just wrapped up a major project at the company, and Shanna pulled her weight big time. Her birthday's around the corner, so I thought I'd treat her to something as a project bonus." He eyed her anxiously. "Stella, you're not mad, right?" Shanna piped up in a soft, vulnerable tone. "Mrs. Woodard, if this upsets you, I'll just go. I don't want to get in the way of you and Mr. Woodard." Stella's mouth quirked into a smile that never touched her eyes. "We're married. A little thing like this? Of course it doesn't bother me." The auction got underway shortly after. Bradly treated Shanna like she was invisible, focusing entirely on Stella. He paged through the catalog, throwing in bids left and right. "Babe, this would look amazing on you." He grinned, tenderly brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his tone warm and intimate. "You'd be gorgeous in it." Stella averted her eyes, but out of the corner of her vision, she saw Shanna discreetly clutching the edge of Bradly's jacket in the dim light. Their gazes locked for a split second in a shared, lingering look. She masked the derision in her own eyes, struck by how absurd it all was. Bradly seemed totally at ease juggling both women, convinced he was keeping things balanced, one with the official status, the other with his undivided public attention. She thought, 'What could be fairer than that?' But Stella had never been interested in that kind of equilibrium. Her world extended far beyond romance. Bradly? He was just a small detour on her path, a misstep she'd own up to. And now, it was time to set things right. "Next up: a string of bracelet. Fine-grained texture, deep aroma that lingers. Starting bid at 170,000 dollars, with increments of at least 20,000 dollars!" The auctioneer's pumped-up voice echoed through the room. Finally, Stella's main target for the evening. Bids flew in fast, the screen flickering with updates as the auctioneer called out, "Number 17 lady at 200,000 dollars! Number 9 gentleman ups it to 260,000 dollars! Going higher?" Once the initial frenzy tapered off, Stella lifted her paddle. "500,000 dollars." She'd doubled the current bid in one go. It was a hefty amount. Sure, the bracelet was top-notch, but it wasn't the auction's highlight. The room went quiet after her call; no one countered. "Fantastic! Number 11 lady at 500,000 dollars! "500,000 dollars once! 500,000 dollars twice!" The auctioneer hoisted his gavel, poised to bring it down. "No more bids? Then 500,000 dollars—" "520,000 dollars," A gentle, hesitant voice interrupted. Shanna shrank against Bradly's side, paddle in hand, murmuring timidly to him, "Is this where I put in the amount?" Chapter 3 You're Dirty Stella frowned and raised her bid. "540,000 dollars." But Shanna was right behind her, countering with, "560,000 dollars." How annoyingly precise, each time, she stuck to the bare minimum, slapping on just 20,000 dollars more than Stella's offer. Shanna turned toward her, her voice dripping with plea. "Stella, you've got plenty of jewelry already. Please, let me have this one. I adore it. "I'm not like you, born with money, everything handed to you on a silver platter. You snap your fingers and get whatever you want. If it goes any higher, I really won't be able to keep up." Stella didn't bother looking at her, just quirking her lips in a thin smile. "Isn't Mr. Woodard covering the cost for you? What are you stressing about?" Shanna's face went a shade paler, but she answered in that soft, demure tone, "Even so, Mr. Woodard earns his money the hard way. If I can save him a bit, I ought to." She was the epitome of considerate and caring. After several more back-and-forth bids, the bracelet's price had soared to 700,000 dollars. Stella let out a chilly scoff and was opening her mouth to up the ante when Bradly beat her to it. He said, "Babe, why don't we just let Shanna take this bracelet?" Stella's fingers curled into a tight fist, her nails biting into her palm. She lifted her gaze, any lingering warmth in her eyes turning to ice. "What did you just say?" Bradly let out a resigned sigh, giving her hand a comforting pat as he murmured gently, "Babe, I already told Shanna she'd get a gift tonight, and she's got her heart set on this one. No need to compete with her. "Plus, I've already snagged you a handful of other pieces. Isn't that plenty?" He said it all lightly, teasingly, as if it were nothing more than a harmless quip. Stella shut her eyes, a nameless sourness creeping along her nerves, coiling around her heart until it felt like she couldn't draw a breath. Given Shanna's modest background, 700,000 dollars was way out of her league. She wouldn't even make the guest list here on her own. The only reason she was in that seat, trading bids blow for blow, was Bradly's backing. His pampering had delivered her straight into Stella's path. Stella whispered, "What if I refuse to back down?" She hoisted her paddle once more, her voice echoing through the room. "1 million dollars." A hush blanketed the hall. The auctioneer clearly picked up on the drama, his delivery faltering. "Number eleven at 1 million dollars. Do I hear higher?" Shanna's eyes welled up, on the verge of tears, as she cast a helpless look at Bradly before tacking on another fifty thousand. "1 million 20 thousand dollars." Stella's features hardened to frost, and she was poised to fire back when the manager bustled over, bending close to murmur, "Mrs. Woodard, apologies. We ran a credit verification on your account, and it's frozen. Got another one we can use?" The words slammed into her like a bolt from the blue, ringing in her ears. She snapped her head toward Bradly, but he'd already looked away. An icy numbness spread through her arms and legs. She though,t 'Of course, it has to be him.' Her primary account was linked with his; besides her, only he could authorize a freeze on her cards. Triumph flickered in Shanna's eyes as she added with a pointed edge, "Well, in that case, Mrs. Woodard, maybe it's time to step aside. You've got so much already. Can't you let me have this one little thing?" Up on stage, the auction rolled on, the display frozen on Shanna's latest bid: 1 million 20 thousand dollars. Shanna could hardly hide her glee, chirping sweetly, "Go on, call it!" But the words had barely left her lips when someone announced he would bid for the lot at any costs right in the second-floor VIP suite. After a momentary silence, the room burst into chaos. "He's declared absolute intent!" Even the auctioneer's expression changed. He'd been in the game for over a decade, but this was his first encounter with such a scenario. He hurriedly called out, "Lot number six goes to the gentleman in box 217, regardless of how high the price goes." Anyone up in those second-floor VIP suites was either swimming in money or held serious sway in Ostralver's upper crust. Stella glanced upward toward the source of the voice, catching only a vague outline behind the draped curtains. Even when she couldn't see his face, the man's crossed-legged posture radiated an unspoken dominance that pressed down on the room. The auctioneer slammed his gavel down with finality, proclaiming, "Congratulations to our esteemed guest in box 217 on winning lot number six! You're now upgraded to black gold status!" Across all of Ostralver's elite scene, fewer than a handful had ever hit black gold level at these events. Stella wondered, 'Just who is this mystery man?' Stella loosened her clenched fist slightly, torn between relief that her mother's heirloom hadn't landed in Shanna's clutches and anxiety over reclaiming it from this unknown figure. No matter what, she'd stop at nothing, pay any price, to bring her mother's possession home. She rose to her feet, intent on marching over to box 217 for a chat, when the attendant who'd just ducked inside reappeared, tray in hand with the bracelet. "What's this? The bidder in 217 having second thoughts?" "Auctions don't do take-backs." "Probably short on funds. I called it. No one's done this here before." As the murmurs swirled, the attendant headed straight for Stella, dipping into a courteous bow with a warm smile. She said, "Mrs. Woodard, the gentleman in box 217 requests that I deliver the bracelet to you as a gift. He wishes for you to follow your true path and for all to unfold as it should." The place erupted in gossip once more, with guests shooting glances her way, some envious, others skeptical, many flat-out stunned. "Isn't that Mrs. Woodard? What's her deal with the upstairs guy?" "Likely just buttering up Mr. Woodard." "Nah, I don't buy it. Out of all the goodies tonight, why zero in on those beads for Mrs. Woodard? Sounds like she's got a real connection there." The buzz filtered through, and Bradly's face turned stone-cold. In a tight, edged voice, he demanded, "Stella, what's the story with you and whoever's in box 217?" Stella held his piercing stare and said flatly, "I have no idea who he is." "!" Bradly jumped up, clamping down on her wrist like a vice. Her soft, fair skin reddened almost instantly under the pressure. Stella winced sharply, jerking her arm back on reflex. "Bradly, have you lost your mind? Haven't you stirred up enough drama for one day?" But he barreled on, blind to her fury, his reddened eyes locked on her as if he could swallow her up. "What's really between you two? "Stella, through all our married years, I've bent over backward for you. Anything you desired, I served it up without question. Why would you betray me like this?" In his mind, it was already a done deal: she was entangled in something shady with the man above. If the guy was angling for a favor from him, Bradly would've recognized him right away. People in Ostralver didn't beat around the bush when they needed something from him. They came direct. The jab landed raw and direct. Bradly blinked, frozen for a beat as a flicker of alarm shot through his eyes. Chapter 4 Don't Know You'd Come Bradly said, "I'm sorry, Stella. I didn't mean it like that. I had no right getting jealous over you and some stranger. It's all on me." Bradly's eyes reddened. "But honestly, there's nothing going on between Shanna and me. I just brought her along as a thank-you. Can you let this slide?" Seeing his cue, Shanna ducked her head meekly, her voice catching. "That's right, Mrs. Woodard. I've been bending over backward to keep my distance from Mr. Woodard so you wouldn't get the wrong impression. "I'm not asking for the world, just a decent birthday gift. I didn't grow up with your advantages; you've had everything handed to you and even snagged a catch like Mr. Woodard. Can't I at least pick out something for myself?" "Just a gift, huh?" Stella closed in on her, one step at a time. "Ms. Erickson, I've never given a damn about this 'gift' you're going on about. What gets under my skin is you, a Woodard Group employee, crossing lines you have no business crossing." As they drew closer, Bradly instinctively stepped in front of Shanna, his voice soft and coaxing. "Stella, if it's bugging you this much, I'll transfer her to a branch office once the auction's over. "But for now, cut me some slack. Let Shanna have the bracelet. When we get home, name your price on anything, and it's yours." Shanna bobbed her head in agreement, tears glistening on her lashes as she pleaded, "Stella, I really adore this bracelet. You've got it all already. Why go after the one thing I want? "Or is this just because you hate my guts and can't resist taking shots at me?" "What makes you think I'd ever like you?" Stella let out a cold snort. "This belonged to me from the start. Why the hell would I give it up?" She took the bracelet from the attendant with casual ease, her smile sharp but empty. "Ms. Erickson, know your place." Her refusal to budge finally wore through Bradly's patience, erasing every bit of softness from his face. "Stella, do you have to humiliate me like this in front of everyone? Where does that leave my dignity? "It's just a crappy old bracelet. Am I really worth less to you than some trinket?" He said it with such conviction, as if he'd wiped from his memory the solemn vow he'd made when proposing: that he'd hunt down every single one of her mother's sold-off keepsakes, no matter what. Stella's hand flew up, delivering a resounding slap across his cheek. The sharp crack rang out, pulling shocked stares from every corner of the room. Bradly's head snapped sideways, his face livid as he fixed her with a glare, his words hissing through clenched teeth. "Stella, drop the drama already. Have I pampered you too much these days, turning you into this unreasonable nightmare?" Stella reined in her temper, keeping her tone even. "Bradly, you better not live to regret today." Without another word, she turned and walked out, not sparing a backward glance. As her figure receded, Shanna gently touched the angry red mark on Bradly's cheek, her voice full of worry. "Mr. Woodard, are you okay? "Stella's got no boundaries. How could she hit you with all these people watching?" Bradly swatted her hand aside, his nails digging into his palm as he stared after her retreating path. "I've spoiled her rotten, letting her forget that everything she has comes from me." Shanna peeked at his changing expression, testing the waters. "Mr. Woodard, about the bracelet..." Bradly rubbed his throbbing cheek, pulled a bank card from his pocket, and handed it over. "1.7 million dollars on there. Buy whatever catches your eye." Box 217, Stella rapped on the door, eager to thank the mystery bidder face-to-face. Silence. She caught a server walking by. "Excuse me, any idea where the gentleman from this box headed?" "He slipped out right after nabbing the last item," the server said. Disappointment flashed in her eyes, but Stella pressed on, "Do you know who he was?" The server gave her a regretful smile. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard, we're not allowed to spill on our VIPs. Don't make this harder for us." Catching herself, Stella moved out of the way. "Thanks all the same." By the time she made it home from the auction, an hour had ticked by. Stella went straight up to the study, fired up the computer, and dove into the assets registered under her and Bradly's names. After tallying up the numbers, she snatched her phone, found lawyer Rubin Cobb's contact, and hit dial. She said, "I've sorted out the asset division documents for me and Bradly and sent them over. I need you to handle the property split by tomorrow." Rubin quickly received the files and nodded respectfully. "Of course, Mrs. Woodard. I'll get right on it." Stella stared intently at her computer screen, her grip tightening on the mouse. "If Bradly's committed bigamy, how should our assets be divided?" "Generally, any property the bigamous party gained through the bigamy can be claimed back by the other spouse," Rubin replied matter-of-factly. Half of Bradly's current wealth had come from Stella's investments to support his career early on. Her expression darkened, and she promptly forwarded the marriage license between him and Shanna. "Rubin, please use every legal avenue to recover my half of the assets." After hanging up, Stella slumped back in her chair, utterly drained physically and emotionally. She closed her eyes slowly, but sleep was nowhere in sight. Bradly would never agree to a divorce. Until she had everything locked down, she couldn't let on that anything was amiss. Just then, the study door was kicked open from the outside. Bradly flung his jacket onto the desk and yanked Stella up from her seat in front of the computer. "Do you realize that because of your little outburst, I've become a laughingstock in our circles? "What exactly do you want? Are you still obsessing over what happened back then?" Stella opened her eyes slowly, her gaze settling calmly on Bradly, but she remained silent. A fire raged in Bradly's chest, intensifying by the second, and he couldn't hold back his fury any longer. "Since we got married, have I ever done anything to wrong you? I come home right on time every night after work, I always fill you in on any business dinners, and if there's even a hint of a woman involved, I skip them entirely! I've bent over backward, and it's still not good enough for you?" He remembered every detail crystal clear. In his mind, these were the sacrifices he'd made to marry her. Stella suddenly found the whole thing absurd. She couldn't bear to look at him anymore, so she stood up and walked straight out of the study without a backward glance. Behind her, Bradly's voice echoed heavily. "Stella, no matter what you think, my conscience is clear." It felt like Stella's heart had been shattered into icy fragments, a sharp, bitter pain surging through her. Her mind buzzed, and for a moment, all she could hear was that phrase repeating over and over. She thought, 'My conscience is clear? So, in his eyes, everything he's done is perfectly justifiable.' The next morning, when Stella woke up, Bradly was already gone. On the table sat the breakfast he'd prepared, tailored exactly to her tastes. Stella pressed her lips together, her feelings a complicated tangle. They'd ended things on a sour note last night, yet Bradly had still made her breakfast this morning. But this was the same man who'd lied to her for years. No matter what, it was time to end things with Bradly. She didn't touch the food and headed straight to the office. These past few years, she'd stayed out of Bradly's business dealings. A lot of her old financial records were outdated now, and she needed the latest reports. The secretary looked startled when she saw her, then managed to say, "Mrs. Woodard, are you here to see Mr. Woodard?" "No." Stella replied evenly. "Send the finance manager in to see me." Her shares were second only to Bradly's, giving her full access to every aspect of the company. The secretary hesitated briefly before nodding. Stella noticed her immediately turning to make a phone call, probably alerting Bradly. Stella didn't intervene; let her. She settled into the finance office, sipping her coffee absentmindedly while flipping through magazines on the shelf. Most were glossy entertainment rags, mixed in with novels and comics. Stella frowned, only now picking up on the details: the desk was covered in a pink plaid mat, cluttered with adorable plush toys. The standout pair was a set of couple dolls, their outfits emblazoned with the letters W and E. It hit Stella suddenly what that meant, and just then, the door behind her swung open. Shanna rushed in. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard." She was clutching a cup of coffee as she apologized. "I had no idea you'd drop by like this..." Chapter 5 All For Milford Stella arched an eyebrow as she looked her over. "So you're the finance manager?" Shanna nodded with a quick smile. "That's me. If you need anything at all, just say the word. Bradly, well, Mr. Woodard is tied up in a meeting right now. But don't worry, I'll make sure to relay whatever message you have." Stella let out a soft laugh. "No need for that." She regarded Shanna with clear curiosity. "I'm not looking for Bradly. I'm here to see you." Shanna's smile faltered for a moment before she recovered, her tone turning gentle. "Mrs. Woodard, I get that you're still bothered by what went down at the auction last night, but there's no reason to be so worked up about my connection to Mr. Woodard. After all..." She raised her hand, the elegant diamond ring on her finger glinting under the light, perfectly complementing her bashful grin. "I'm already married, and things are great between me and my husband." Stella's eyes locked on the ring, her breath hitching just for an instant. It was ridiculous. In this whole messed-up situation, she was the one playing the role of the mistress. The ring was an exact match for the one Bradly had given her during his proposal. But within seconds, Stella averted her gaze. "It's a lovely ring, but you're mistaken." She spoke unhurriedly, "I'm just here to grab the latest financial report from you. That's all." Stella caught the sour shift in Shanna's expression and smiled to herself. "Seems like you're the one on edge here, Ms. Erickson." Shanna's face transformed completely, that smug spark in her eyes snuffed out. She bit her lip, unable to find words for a long beat. Stella watched her with unruffled poise. "Do I need to repeat my request, Ms. Erickson?" The words had barely left her mouth when Bradly burst in, his expression clouding over at the sight. "Stella, wasn't the scene from last night enough?" His voice was laced with ice. "How long are you planning to drag this out? I've told you already. There's nothing going on between me and Shanna. If you don't believe me..." Stella interrupted him mid-sentence, "Oh, I believe you. Absolutely." A faint smirk tugged at her lips, though her eyes remained frosty as they settled on Shanna. "After all, Ms. Erickson's already married. She just mentioned it herself." The statement landed like a bomb. Shanna's face drained of color, and Bradly's followed suit. He shot her a withering glare. Tears sprang to Shanna's eyes in an instant. Stella had no interest in watching the drama unfold any further. She said evenly, "I'm here for this year's financials. I hold forty percent of the company. Surely I can access that, right?" Bradly seemed to snap back to reality, nodding hastily. "Of course you can." He barked orders at the secretary to fetch it immediately, all the while stealing wary glances at her face. Once he confirmed she wasn't giving anything away, he exhaled almost imperceptibly in relief. He said, "Stella, what's with the sudden interest? You've never bothered with company matters before." Stella answered coolly, "After the account freeze last night, I decided it's smarter to set up a separate one." Bradly's expression froze again. "Stella..." The secretary returned promptly with the report. Stella brushed Bradly aside, skimmed through it quickly, and was heading for the door when he caught her by the wrist. He said, "Stella, about the family dinner tonight, are you coming home with me?" His tone was pleading, like he needed her answer to reassure himself that she hadn't caught on to anything fishy. Stella didn't look back, just replying calmly, "Sure." Bradly's face lit up. "Great, I'll swing by after work to pick you up." Stella dropped her gaze, masking the cool detachment in her eyes. She'd only agreed to head back to the family estate for one specific reason. The marriage license from when she and Bradly had tied the knot was a phony, but he'd made a whole production out of stashing it away at the house, claiming it had to be kept secure. Nothing could serve as stronger proof. Once she got her hands on it, his bigamy would be ironclad. Stella didn't bother waiting for Bradly; she hailed a cab and got there ahead of time. She'd figured it was just a standard family gathering, but she was caught off guard by the full turnout. Bradly's parents, fresh from their overseas vacation last week, were back, and even the distant relatives from the Woodard family's side branches had shown up en masse. "Stella, dear." As she walked in, Nadine Woodard peered over her shoulder. "Bradly didn't come with you?" Stella answered evenly, "He'll be along shortly." Nadine clicked her tongue, her irritation obvious. "On an important occasion like this, letting someone from outside the family arrive solo, what's got into him?" Stella's brow furrowed just a touch. She and Bradly had been engaged since childhood, but after her mother's passing, the Daniels family's status had tanked while the Woodard family kept climbing. That was when Nadine started pushing to scrap the arrangement, and she'd mentioned it more than a few times. But Chuck Woodard was upright and principled, flat-out refusing to play the social-climbing game. With Bradly dead set on marrying her and no one else, Nadine had reluctantly given in, though she made her resentment clear. Even after the marriage, she never passed up an opportunity to give Stella the cold shoulder. She was about to add something else when the butler rushed in and murmured, "He's here." Nadine promptly dropped the subject with Stella and jumped to her feet, the extended family hustling out right behind her to welcome the arrivals. The level of pomp surprised Stella. The Woodard family was already at the top of Ostralver's social elite. For them to pull out all the stops like this... Standing at the edge of the group, Stella glanced up and saw a black Maybach rolling up to the front of the estate. Someone hurried forward to open the door respectfully, and a tall, imposing figure stepped out unhurriedly. The man wore a sleek black suit, his chiseled features sharp, eyes as midnight, radiating a fierce intensity. Every gesture exuded a natural poise and authority that made it tough to hold his stare. The crowd swarmed forward in a rush, but he stayed cool and detached the whole time, his stunningly handsome face as impassive as carved ice, showing zero emotion. Then, as if picking up on something, he looked up toward Stella. Their eyes locked unexpectedly, sending her heart pounding. It was Milford Woodard, Bradly's brother. He'd returned to the country. Though they were brothers in name, Milford wasn't all that tight with the family. He'd headed overseas young and had spent years growing the business abroad. His father Edward Woodard was a total lightweight, good only at spending cash, not earning it. His grandpa Chuck had the smarts and drive, but age was catching up, leaving him unable to manage it all. Real power over the Woodard family had shifted to Milford ages ago. Stella let out a quiet breath. She thought, 'That explains the big crowd today. They've all turned out for Milford.' Chapter 6 Need Help? Stella lingered in the corner of the living room, watching the relatives descend like a swarm of locusts, all scrambling to surround Milford. Bradly stood next to Nadine, flashing a polished smile as he greeted, "Hey, Milford." The uncles who'd been buttering up Bradly just a minute ago quickly switched gears, beaming with over-the-top enthusiasm as they stepped up to say hello. "Milford, what prompted the sudden return?" "Milford, I hear you're in the middle of acquiring a domestic company? You're just getting more impressive by the day." "Come on inside, take a seat. We've got some top-shelf coffee." Bradly caught the stark contrast in the uncles' warmth, his smile fading briefly before he pulled it together and led the way forward. Stella quietly eyed the tall, strikingly handsome Milford striding into the living room like the star of the show, instinctively edging back a step. Now fully pushed to the fringes of the crowd, she shifted aside to let the trailing group pass, doing everything she could to blend into the wallpaper. Milford approached steadily. Unlike Bradly's flashy, outgoing vibe, he had a more brooding, aloof kind of handsomeness, like a pine tree blanketed in snow, regal and intimidating. He acknowledged the flattery around him with simple nods, his eyes scanning the room casually, subtly taking stock of everyone there. Until his gaze swept over Stella again, and he came to an abrupt halt. He paused, causing Bradly to stop too. "Something wrong, Milford?" Milford didn't respond, his steady gaze fixed on Stella. It was only a look, but it jolted her to her core. She felt an odd sense of being claimed, uninvited. Yet she'd barely crossed paths with Milford before. Bradly and the others traced his stare, his eyebrow quirking up. "Stella, come say hi to Big Milford." Stella started to step forward, but Milford beat her to it, walking straight toward her. Bradly and the rest exchanged surprised glances. So far, everyone had been approaching Milford. He hadn't initiated with a soul. Milford's deep eyes gave nothing away. "Stella?" Her breath hitched, like a faint breeze had brushed her ear. She hadn't anticipated him coming over to chat. It had been years, and they'd only met once or twice, but he still remembered her. Stella nodded. "Milford, it's been ages—" Before she could finish, Milford held out his hand. The move was so casual, so natural. Out of pure reflex and politeness, Stella extended hers, their palms connecting. In that brief clasp, she felt him squeeze gently, his thumb settling on her fingers and grazing them with a warm intensity. Milford released after just a second. Suddenly, Bradly sidled up, drawing Stella into his side with an arm around her waist, lacing his fingers through her left hand. He said, "Milford, how long are you in town this time? Stella and I can take you out to dinner one of these days." Milford took in their cozy pose, his glance dropping to their intertwined hands. "About a month." The words had barely left his mouth when Chuck came down the stairs, leaning on the butler for support. Milford headed over to talk with him. Not long after, the kitchen called that the party was ready. Stella trailed Bradly to their seats on the left side of the main table. Everyone filed in and sat. As the eldest branch, the two Woodard brothers took priority. Chuck claimed the head of the main table, with Nadine and Milford next in line. Stella and Bradly fell further down the order, landing her right across from Milford on the diagonal. The family feast got underway, with everyone firing questions at Milford about what he'd been up to lately. Stella kept her head down, nibbling at her food while catching bits of the conversation. Zrester bigwig, major stakeholder in Wonder Group, founder of that financial exchange and the smart transportation AI... Milford's credentials were endless and mind-blowing. She thought back to that Zrester party invite list she'd snagged years ago. Milford was third from the top, while she languished at the bottom. In all these years, she'd had next to no interaction with him. Right after the wedding, this mysterious Milford had only shown up once. He dropped off a gift and vanished. In just a handful of years, Milford had climbed to the pinnacle of Zrester's power players. His talent was obvious. Before long, the family party wound down, and folks scattered to grab desserts. Still hung up on that marriage license, Stella excused herself to head upstairs for a coat change. Bradly was itching to chat with Milford, his gaze fixed that way as he muttered distractedly, "Yeah, go on up." Stella wasted no time hustling upstairs. With the crowd milling about downstairs, she slipped to the third floor of the villa and nudged open Bradly's bedroom door. There it was: the glaring marriage license perched right on top of the nightstand, framed, flanked by their wedding portrait. As she stepped closer, memories of Bradly's cozy moments with Shanna flooded her brain, her nails digging slowly into her palm. That license seared her eyes, like it was sneering at her gullibility. She never should've caved, never should've handed Bradly a second shot. It just went to show that people's hearts circled back for seconds. Disgust flickered in her eyes as she hauled the desk's computer chair over, the kind with wheels and a swivel, shaky at best. She climbed onto it, planting one foot on the bed for stability, teetering just enough to hold steady. Stella hiked up her pearl-white knee-length dress a bit and stretched upward slowly. Fingers extended to the max, but she was still a couple inches shy. She rose onto her tiptoes, straining, but no dice. Frowning from her perch, she scanned around and snagged a book from beside the cabinet. As she leaned down, footsteps suddenly echoed outside the door. Fast, but measured. A man's, for sure. Her pulse spiked. She clutched the table, scrambling to hop down, but, perfect timing, her other sleeve caught on the cabinet's edge. She tugged frantically to break free, but it was too late to descend. The door flew open out of nowhere. Stella went rigid, her knees giving way as she toppled backward off the chair. A quick yelp escaped her, but the expected crash never hit. A firm hand latched precisely onto her thigh, another banding around her waist, hauling her into a solid hold and planting her feet firmly on the floor. She slammed into a warm, toned chest, a crisp, grounding sandalwood aroma enveloping her, not Bradly's scent. Stella glanced up, nearly clipping the guy's chin. Milford let go right away, backing off a step to give her space. Her cheeks burned, the thigh he'd gripped feeling like it was on fire. Mortified and frozen, she stammered, "Th-thanks." Milford stayed composed, his eyes skimming her flushed face and the pinkened patch of skin on her thigh from his hold. His Adam's apple dipped subtly. "Didn't realize you were in here. My bad." Stella shook her head, even more flustered. She was the one imposing on him. Milford flicked a glance upward. "Need some help?" She looked too. Up top, the marriage license screamed for attention. Chapter 7 Don't Let Me Hate You Stella just came out with it. "I want to get the marriage license down." Milford hesitated for a beat, without probing why she needed it, and slid the chair out of the way. Tall and long-limbed, he barely had to tip up on his toes to snag it effortlessly. Milford skimmed the lettering on the license, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes before the faintest quirk tugged at his lips, almost undetectable. He passed it over to Stella. "Ah, I see." She missed the words, taking it with a soft murmur: "Thanks, Milford." Her palms were slick with sweat now, but holding the certificate still sent an icy shiver through her. Those bold letters were a brutal reminder. This whole marriage had been one big joke. From beginning to end, Bradly's grand performance of undying love had always had a third wheel in the shadows. Milford dropped his gaze. Towering over her, all he could make out was the neat swirl at the top of her head, round and oddly appealing. Those slim, pale hands gripped the certificate like a vise, completely bloodless. Milford asked offhandedly, "So, what's the marriage license for?" "Oh, I just want to bring it home and store it there," Stella shot back, pulling an excuse out of thin air. Milford's stare felt like it enveloped her, the heat of it almost scorching, though he kept his hands to himself. Then he casually adjusted his cufflinks and turned to go. Stella let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, sagging against the cool cabinet. Her thigh still tingled with warmth from his grip; she quickly smoothed her skirt down, tucked the license into her bag, and only left the room once everything looked undisturbed. Bradly was still out in the back garden, deep in conversation. Stella kept her face neutral, strolling over to stand at his side. A few relatives were chatting with him. "Hey, word is Milford actually got back a couple days ago, but only tipped us off today." Bradly looked taken aback. "I thought he was flying in today?" "Nope, sounds like he hit up some auction. I only heard bits and pieces, supposedly the other night at the Empire Auction House." "He must not have gone. I was there that evening too, and I didn't see him anywhere," Bradly said, frowning in confusion. Stella's eyelashes flickered subtly, but she played it cool. Out of nowhere, her mind jumped back to that enigmatic bidder in suite 217. She wondered, 'Could Milford be the mystery guest who got the bracelet for me?' She shoved the thought down as soon as it surfaced. They'd only crossed paths once, total strangers really, connected by the flimsiest in-law tie. No matter how you sliced it, Milford wouldn't stick his neck out for her. Just like Bradly said, he hadn't caught wind of anything, so it couldn't be Milford. Stella let it go. After some more mingling, the group started to break up. Bradly steered her over to bid farewell to Milford. "Mom, Milford, we're taking off. Let's set up a family dinner soon when things settle." Milford slouched back in his chair with effortless nonchalance and gave a nod. "I'm knee-deep in an acquisition, no hurry on the get-together. But you..." He lifted his head, his expression sharpening. "Keep your life on the straight and narrow. Don't veer off track." The edge of warning in his voice was crystal clear. Bradly had grown up overshadowed by Milford; he went rigid but brushed it off casually. "Come on, everything's good. My company's running smooth as ever. If you're skeptical, drop by anytime and pore over the financials—knock yourself out." "It's not just about the company," Milford said softly, eyes down as he savored a sip of coffee. Stella couldn't help stealing a glance at him, and in that instant, a ridiculous idea struck her. From what Bradly had mentioned, Milford was abroad most of the time but still had the inside scoop on everything back home. She wondered, 'Does he know about the shady stuff Bradly is up to on the sly?' "Milford, I hear you. I'll make sure to nurture my marriage with Stella, our whole life together." Bradly grinned, threading his fingers through Stella's. Milford's gaze lingered on their joined hands for a second before drifting away, sealed with a subtle nod. Stella had no desire for any more close contact with Bradly, so she subtly shook his hand free without thinking. A split second later, his disbelieving stare locked onto her face, and he tried to grab her again. She'd known her move would humiliate him in the moment, so she didn't bother saying goodbye to Milford. She just turned and walked out ahead. Once they slid into the car, Bradly shed his polite, deferential mask from earlier, reverting to his entitled rich-kid swagger. He tugged his tie loose, a flicker of annoyance pinching his brows. "Always playing the big-brother card to chew me out, same crap since we were little. "So what if he's crushing it overseas? I'm holding my own just fine back home. Who in Ostralver would even think about messing with me?" Bradly fished out a menthol cigarette on autopilot, ready to light up, but he caught himself after glancing at Stella and shoved it back. He said, "All these years, folks have been whispering, or saying it straight to my face, that my company's thriving because of his pull. Like he's behind every damn thing. "And you? You flat-out refused to let me hold your hand back there. Trying to make me look like an idiot in front of him?" His expression iced over, the edge in his voice impossible to miss. Stella's frown deepened as she took it in. Even without knowing Milford all that well, she understood that Bradly's cocky antics in Ostralver, brushing people off like they were nothing, had always been propped up by Milford's clout. She'd assumed the brothers were tight, but clearly Bradly's respect was just for show; underneath, his grudge against Milford simmered deep. She could overlook a lot, but with things the way they were now, there was zero point in him putting on that phony hand-holding act. Stella gripped her bag, the one with the marriage license inside, and couldn't bite her tongue. "We haven't held hands in forever. It feels off to me." The car went dead quiet. She was right. Their physical closeness had dwindled so much that even she couldn't pinpoint the last time. Bradly's brow creased, and he snapped the cigarette filter clean off between his fingers. "What was that?" Stella met his eyes steadily. "From here on out, let's skip the pointless touchy-feely stuff. It just doesn't sit right." She hadn't even finished when the brakes screeched harshly. The car lurched to a halt on the empty shoulder of the road. Stella almost smacked into the window from the force, her pulse hammering as she barked, "Are you out of your mind?" Bradly loomed over her, fingers digging into her chin, irritation boiling in his glare. "Stella, do you have any idea what you're saying?" The pinch stung like crazy, and the absurdity of it all hit her as she wrestled to shove him off. "Is it not true? When's the last time we even held hands. Can you remember?" Bradly's gaze turned stormy, like she'd struck a raw spot. "I bet you're hung up on Milford, just like that girl from the second branch. That's why you pulled away in front of him. You're trying to cut ties with me?" "Bradly! What the hell are you babbling about?" Anger surged through her as she pushed harder. "Don't you dare pin your gross history on me!" The way the family had orbited Milford like he was the sun had obviously gotten under his skin. The more she resisted, the darker his look grew. Abruptly, he leaned in and smashed his mouth against hers. Stella's eyes flew wide, her head whipping aside to evade as she hammered at his shoulders with everything she had. He'd locked lips with Shanna god knows how often. The thought turned her stomach, so she clamped down and bit him hard. Bradly yelped in pain, jerking back as the fog cleared and he clocked what he'd just done, regret flashing across his face. Blood dotted his lip, but he brushed it off, lunging to wrap her in his arms. "I'm sorry, Stella, baby, I'm so sorry. I screwed up; it was a stupid impulse..." Drained of energy, Stella sagged into the passenger seat, letting him hold her while a barren wave of emptiness and revulsion washed over her. The hug she'd once melted into now repulsed her to her core. "Get off me." Her voice came out rough and scratchy. "Bradly, don't push me to hating you."
Chapter 1 Don't Want Him Anymore "I'm sorry, ma'am." On the other end of the line, the insurance customer service rep said coolly, "After checking our records, the car owner, Mr. Woodard, is indeed married, but the spouse listed here isn't you." Stella Daniels had gotten into a car accident on her way to the Woodard Group headquarters. She couldn't get through to Bradly Woodard on his phone, so she had no choice but to call the insurance company. The car was registered in Bradly's name, but as his wife, she should be able to process the claim too. "When Mr. Woodard picked up the car, he came with his wife and provided the original marriage license. Her last name is Erickson, and her full name is Shanna Erickson," the rep said. It hit Stella like a slap in the face. Dizziness washed over her in waves, leaving her whole body shaking uncontrollably. She and Bradly had been childhood sweethearts. Their families were old friends, and everyone in Ostralver's high society knew how clingy he was with her. Bradly couldn't stand being apart from her even for a single day. Three years ago, when Stella headed abroad for her studies, Bradly had the plane stopped just for her. During her three years in Ensland, he expanded his business overseas to make it easier to look after her. Sixteen thousand miles apart, he'd still fly across the ocean every week to see her. The year she came down with a severe lung illness and nearly didn't pull through, she spent a week in intensive care. Bradly ignored the infection risks and stayed right by her side, sliding a ring onto her finger. He said, "If anything happens to you, I'll go with you. We'll be husband and wife in the next life too." For Bradly's sake, she turned down her mentor's offer to stay on in the lab and headed back home. Brimming with excitement, she went to find him, planning to surprise him. But when she pushed open the door to the CEO's office, she saw a slender, pretty woman straddling his lap. The woman's innocent face tilted upward, her voice whiny and aggrieved. "Mr. Woodard, what happens to me now that Stella is back?" Bradly sat in his executive chair, his tall frame looming over her. A flash of ruthlessness crossed his stern features. "You? You're just her stand-in. Don't forget your place." He lifted his hand, pinching her delicate chin with a sneer. "Barely a three-out-of-ten resemblance, and you think you can compare to her?" Stella was still clutching the gift she'd prepared for him. With a loud "bang," it dropped to the floor, finally breaking the scene in the office. Bradly's face drained of color as he shoved the woman off and jumped to his feet. That woman was Shanna. After Stella caught them in the act, Bradly fired Shanna on the spot and pulled out all the stops to win her back. Bradly, the arrogant prince of Ostralver's elite circles, humbled himself to the dust before her, begging her to give him another chance. Any project she set her sights on, he'd drop without a second thought. He stood in the pouring rain outside her building for over a week, just for a glimpse of her. He said, "Stella, I'm not asking you to forgive me. At least let me explain. "I only ever saw Shanna as your replacement. You've been gone abroad for so long; I missed you terribly. I swear, I just kept her around. Nothing more ever happened between us. "That time you walked in, I'd had too much to drink, and she deliberately tempted me. I lost control for a moment... "I've already let her go, and she won't show up in our lives again. Stella, please, come back to me." Back then, Stella couldn't stand even the slightest betrayal. She insisted on breaking off the engagement. Until that one incident. She was kidnapped by a business rival. The kidnappers reneged on the deal, tied her up in an abandoned factory, and set the place ablaze. Bradly charged into the flames without a second thought to rescue her, shielding her from a collapsing steel beam. He ended up gravely injured, confined to bed for nearly six months. By risking his life, Bradly finally melted her resolve. Once he was out of the hospital, she accepted his proposal, and they threw a lavish wedding. In the two years since they tied the knot, he'd treated her just as devotedly as ever, with zero scandals. He even imposed a strict curfew on himself, heading home right on time every day. Even on out-of-town business trips, he'd video call her constantly. His partners would tease him about being henpecked. He never denied it. Instead, he'd grin proudly and say, "A real man takes care of his family." Memories rushed through Stella's mind like a whirlwind, every past moment flashing by in a blur. Her legs buckled, and she dropped to her knees, burying her face in her hands. She couldn't figure out which Bradly was the real one anymore. A bitter, mocking gleam sparked in her eyes. She thought, 'How absurd.' She'd been his wife for two years, and only now was she learning that even their marriage license had been a sham. Stella scrubbed her face hard, her bangs already soaked with cold sweat. She ignored the other driver's furious yelling and calmly dialed the police. They showed up fast. After finishing her statement, Stella left the station under a sky that had gone completely dark. Her phone lit up with several missed calls from Bradly. When she hadn't answered, he'd sent texts instead. Bradly: [Babe, I was tied up in a key meeting this afternoon. Signal jammers were on, so I missed your call. You okay?] Bradly: [I've got a client dinner tonight, so I'll be late getting home. I double-checked: no women involved, so no need to worry.] Bradly: [Head to bed early. Don't wait up. Love you.] Stella stared at the screen, a sharp wave of irony twisting in her gut. Bradly didn't stagger in until the wee hours. He reeked of alcohol, which almost, but not quite, masked the subtle whiff of perfume on him. "Honey..." He could barely keep his balance, stumbling over to wrap his arms around her through the blanket. "I missed you so damn much..." Stella didn't say a word. Only once he was dead to the world did she sit up quietly and unlock his phone with his fingerprint. The thing was squeaky clean, no suspicious traces at all. His contacts were mostly buddies and business folks, with hers pinned at the top as "Darling Wife." Flawlessly tidy, just like their sham of a marriage. Stella hooked the phone up to her computer, and it didn't take long to uncover his second WhatsApp account. She signed in, and right away, messages popped up from a profile with a cute pink kitten avatar, labeled "Baby." Shanna: [Bradly, thanks for tonight. Without you, I wouldn't have known what to do.] Shanna: [I've always thought meeting you was the luckiest thing that's ever happened to me. I won't intrude on your life. As long as you swing by to see me once in a while, that's enough to make me happy.] Stella scrolled back through the history. She'd suspected as much, but seeing it all laid out still hit her like a punch to the chest, leaving her breathless. They chatted nearly every day. Shanna never missed a good morning message, and Bradly's replies had shifted over time, from total silence at first, to sporadic responses, and now to answering every single one. A chill spread through her. Stella clutched the phone tighter, knowing she should quit while she was ahead but unable to stop herself from digging deeper. Shanna: [Bradly, sorry, I had a few drinks and lost it for a bit. Doc says I'm okay now, so don't stress.] Shanna: [Mrs. Woodard's birthday bash is important. Go enjoy it with her. I'll be fine.] Stella squeezed her eyes shut as the memory came rushing back. Her birthday. Bradly had spent over a month planning it down to the last detail, but that day, he was totally distracted. Hell, he almost cut his own hand while slicing the cake. When she'd asked what was up, he'd brushed it off as work drama, told her not to worry, then pulled her into a soft embrace and encouraged her to blow out the candles and make a wish. It all made sense now, as she stared at this chat log. That same day, Shanna had tried to kill herself by slashing her wrists and ended up in the ER. A sour bitterness flooded her chest like a rising tide. In those brief seconds when she'd closed her eyes to wish, she wondered, 'Was he agonizing over Shanna in the hospital, or picturing endless years together with her?' Stella knew she didn't need an answer to that anymore. She gently placed the phone back and looked down at Bradly, fast asleep beside her. She'd known him since she was four, and for the twenty years that followed, she'd truly believed his love was hers alone, irreplaceable. But now she saw it for what it was: just cheap free samples at a store, handed out to anyone who walked by. If that was all it amounted to, she was done with it. Chapter 2 Bid Against Her The next day, Stella woke to find Bradly busy in the kitchen, his broad shoulders narrowing to a slim waist, his tall, lean build moving with purpose. The sight hit her hard, a dull ache tightening in her chest. Bradly had learned to cook entirely for her sake. She still remembered that turbulent period when the Woodard Group was in crisis. His rivals had targeted her, paying off a servant to poison her food. She'd been unconscious for three full days. When she finally woke, Bradly was there, his eyes red-rimmed and veined with exhaustion, gripping her hand like a lifeline. The instant she stirred, the imposing Bradly crumbled forward, enveloping her in a hug as scalding tears fell onto her skin. From then on, Bradly threw himself into cooking lessons, taking charge of all her meals. In less than a month, he'd gone from a spoiled elite who couldn't distinguish spices to turning out dishes worthy of a Michelin chef. Just then, his phone rang. Stella glanced at it but made no move to answer. Bradly darted out of the kitchen, apron still on, grabbing the phone with a barely concealed flash of anxiety. Stella pretended not to notice and went to wash up. When she came back, the table was set with breakfast, and he was slipping into his suit jacket from the coat rack. Seeing her, he said gently, "There's an emergency at work. I have to run. Sorry I can't join you for breakfast." Stella murmured, "Sure, work comes first." He was clearly in a hurry, because he didn't pick up on the new edge of cool distance in her tone and rushed out. She stared blankly after him until he was gone, then dumped the entire spread into the trash. Then she picked up her phone and dialed a number. "That offer you made before? I'm on board." The person on the other end erupted in delight, chattering away before shifting to broken Andosa Language. "Stella, why the sudden change of heart? I've bugged you about this so many times, and you always said you were married now and focusing on family." A mocking glint flickered in Stella's eyes. She thought, 'Married? This so-called marriage has been dead on arrival.' The caller was her former mentor from her overseas studies. He'd reached out lately, hoping she'd join his new team and spearhead a major project. At the time, she'd kept saying no out of loyalty to Bradly. Now, she only wished she'd seen through the absurd joke of their marriage earlier. After the call, she contacted immigration to schedule a passport renewal. It would take about a week. But before heading out, she had one loose end to tie up. That evening, Stella showed up at a private auction at the Cloud Hotel. She was after one of her mother's keepsakes. Her mom had died when she was eight, and soon after, the Daniels family had liquidated her wedding gift. Stella had been hunting down the items ever since. Over the years, she'd only reclaimed a few. Tonight's auction featured a bracelet from that collection, one her mother had picked up on a trip to Ijance. It was utterly unique, irreplaceable. Whatever it took, she was getting it back. Stella settled into her seat just as the auction was about to start. She was flipping through the catalog when Bradly's voice floated over. "Didn't I already pick out that royal blue sapphire set for you? Not good enough?" His voice carried that familiar tenderness. Shanna linked her arm with his, pouting playfully. "Your taste sucks! I want to pick my own birthday gift." Stella watched them quietly until Bradly threaded through the guests and their gazes collided by chance. The color drained from his face. On pure reflex, he jerked his arm away from Shanna. "Stella." He strode over quickly. "I tried calling you a few times, but you didn't answer. Were you planning to surprise me?" Even though he tried to play it cool, she could still catch that subtle hint of panic in his expression. Stella didn't bother calling him on it, replying evenly, "My phone was on silent. I didn't hear it." Bradly visibly relaxed, casually taking her hand in his with a look of concern. "Your hands are like ice. Didn't I warn you about the cold snap today? You're always putting style over staying warm. If you catch a chill, you know it'll just kill me." As he talked, he signaled a server for a blanket and draped it snugly around her shoulders. Stella kept a straight face, brushing him off as she looked past him to Shanna, who lingered behind with a scowl. Shanna nibbled her lip, then defiantly dropped into the seat next to Bradly, her gaze simmering with irritation. Bradly leaned closer, dropping his voice to explain, "We just wrapped up a major project at the company, and Shanna pulled her weight big time. Her birthday's around the corner, so I thought I'd treat her to something as a project bonus." He eyed her anxiously. "Stella, you're not mad, right?" Shanna piped up in a soft, vulnerable tone. "Mrs. Woodard, if this upsets you, I'll just go. I don't want to get in the way of you and Mr. Woodard." Stella's mouth quirked into a smile that never touched her eyes. "We're married. A little thing like this? Of course it doesn't bother me." The auction got underway shortly after. Bradly treated Shanna like she was invisible, focusing entirely on Stella. He paged through the catalog, throwing in bids left and right. "Babe, this would look amazing on you." He grinned, tenderly brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his tone warm and intimate. "You'd be gorgeous in it." Stella averted her eyes, but out of the corner of her vision, she saw Shanna discreetly clutching the edge of Bradly's jacket in the dim light. Their gazes locked for a split second in a shared, lingering look. She masked the derision in her own eyes, struck by how absurd it all was. Bradly seemed totally at ease juggling both women, convinced he was keeping things balanced, one with the official status, the other with his undivided public attention. She thought, 'What could be fairer than that?' But Stella had never been interested in that kind of equilibrium. Her world extended far beyond romance. Bradly? He was just a small detour on her path, a misstep she'd own up to. And now, it was time to set things right. "Next up: a string of bracelet. Fine-grained texture, deep aroma that lingers. Starting bid at 170,000 dollars, with increments of at least 20,000 dollars!" The auctioneer's pumped-up voice echoed through the room. Finally, Stella's main target for the evening. Bids flew in fast, the screen flickering with updates as the auctioneer called out, "Number 17 lady at 200,000 dollars! Number 9 gentleman ups it to 260,000 dollars! Going higher?" Once the initial frenzy tapered off, Stella lifted her paddle. "500,000 dollars." She'd doubled the current bid in one go. It was a hefty amount. Sure, the bracelet was top-notch, but it wasn't the auction's highlight. The room went quiet after her call; no one countered. "Fantastic! Number 11 lady at 500,000 dollars! "500,000 dollars once! 500,000 dollars twice!" The auctioneer hoisted his gavel, poised to bring it down. "No more bids? Then 500,000 dollars—" "520,000 dollars," A gentle, hesitant voice interrupted. Shanna shrank against Bradly's side, paddle in hand, murmuring timidly to him, "Is this where I put in the amount?" Chapter 3 You're Dirty Stella frowned and raised her bid. "540,000 dollars." But Shanna was right behind her, countering with, "560,000 dollars." How annoyingly precise, each time, she stuck to the bare minimum, slapping on just 20,000 dollars more than Stella's offer. Shanna turned toward her, her voice dripping with plea. "Stella, you've got plenty of jewelry already. Please, let me have this one. I adore it. "I'm not like you, born with money, everything handed to you on a silver platter. You snap your fingers and get whatever you want. If it goes any higher, I really won't be able to keep up." Stella didn't bother looking at her, just quirking her lips in a thin smile. "Isn't Mr. Woodard covering the cost for you? What are you stressing about?" Shanna's face went a shade paler, but she answered in that soft, demure tone, "Even so, Mr. Woodard earns his money the hard way. If I can save him a bit, I ought to." She was the epitome of considerate and caring. After several more back-and-forth bids, the bracelet's price had soared to 700,000 dollars. Stella let out a chilly scoff and was opening her mouth to up the ante when Bradly beat her to it. He said, "Babe, why don't we just let Shanna take this bracelet?" Stella's fingers curled into a tight fist, her nails biting into her palm. She lifted her gaze, any lingering warmth in her eyes turning to ice. "What did you just say?" Bradly let out a resigned sigh, giving her hand a comforting pat as he murmured gently, "Babe, I already told Shanna she'd get a gift tonight, and she's got her heart set on this one. No need to compete with her. "Plus, I've already snagged you a handful of other pieces. Isn't that plenty?" He said it all lightly, teasingly, as if it were nothing more than a harmless quip. Stella shut her eyes, a nameless sourness creeping along her nerves, coiling around her heart until it felt like she couldn't draw a breath. Given Shanna's modest background, 700,000 dollars was way out of her league. She wouldn't even make the guest list here on her own. The only reason she was in that seat, trading bids blow for blow, was Bradly's backing. His pampering had delivered her straight into Stella's path. Stella whispered, "What if I refuse to back down?" She hoisted her paddle once more, her voice echoing through the room. "1 million dollars." A hush blanketed the hall. The auctioneer clearly picked up on the drama, his delivery faltering. "Number eleven at 1 million dollars. Do I hear higher?" Shanna's eyes welled up, on the verge of tears, as she cast a helpless look at Bradly before tacking on another fifty thousand. "1 million 20 thousand dollars." Stella's features hardened to frost, and she was poised to fire back when the manager bustled over, bending close to murmur, "Mrs. Woodard, apologies. We ran a credit verification on your account, and it's frozen. Got another one we can use?" The words slammed into her like a bolt from the blue, ringing in her ears. She snapped her head toward Bradly, but he'd already looked away. An icy numbness spread through her arms and legs. She though,t 'Of course, it has to be him.' Her primary account was linked with his; besides her, only he could authorize a freeze on her cards. Triumph flickered in Shanna's eyes as she added with a pointed edge, "Well, in that case, Mrs. Woodard, maybe it's time to step aside. You've got so much already. Can't you let me have this one little thing?" Up on stage, the auction rolled on, the display frozen on Shanna's latest bid: 1 million 20 thousand dollars. Shanna could hardly hide her glee, chirping sweetly, "Go on, call it!" But the words had barely left her lips when someone announced he would bid for the lot at any costs right in the second-floor VIP suite. After a momentary silence, the room burst into chaos. "He's declared absolute intent!" Even the auctioneer's expression changed. He'd been in the game for over a decade, but this was his first encounter with such a scenario. He hurriedly called out, "Lot number six goes to the gentleman in box 217, regardless of how high the price goes." Anyone up in those second-floor VIP suites was either swimming in money or held serious sway in Ostralver's upper crust. Stella glanced upward toward the source of the voice, catching only a vague outline behind the draped curtains. Even when she couldn't see his face, the man's crossed-legged posture radiated an unspoken dominance that pressed down on the room. The auctioneer slammed his gavel down with finality, proclaiming, "Congratulations to our esteemed guest in box 217 on winning lot number six! You're now upgraded to black gold status!" Across all of Ostralver's elite scene, fewer than a handful had ever hit black gold level at these events. Stella wondered, 'Just who is this mystery man?' Stella loosened her clenched fist slightly, torn between relief that her mother's heirloom hadn't landed in Shanna's clutches and anxiety over reclaiming it from this unknown figure. No matter what, she'd stop at nothing, pay any price, to bring her mother's possession home. She rose to her feet, intent on marching over to box 217 for a chat, when the attendant who'd just ducked inside reappeared, tray in hand with the bracelet. "What's this? The bidder in 217 having second thoughts?" "Auctions don't do take-backs." "Probably short on funds. I called it. No one's done this here before." As the murmurs swirled, the attendant headed straight for Stella, dipping into a courteous bow with a warm smile. She said, "Mrs. Woodard, the gentleman in box 217 requests that I deliver the bracelet to you as a gift. He wishes for you to follow your true path and for all to unfold as it should." The place erupted in gossip once more, with guests shooting glances her way, some envious, others skeptical, many flat-out stunned. "Isn't that Mrs. Woodard? What's her deal with the upstairs guy?" "Likely just buttering up Mr. Woodard." "Nah, I don't buy it. Out of all the goodies tonight, why zero in on those beads for Mrs. Woodard? Sounds like she's got a real connection there." The buzz filtered through, and Bradly's face turned stone-cold. In a tight, edged voice, he demanded, "Stella, what's the story with you and whoever's in box 217?" Stella held his piercing stare and said flatly, "I have no idea who he is." "!" Bradly jumped up, clamping down on her wrist like a vice. Her soft, fair skin reddened almost instantly under the pressure. Stella winced sharply, jerking her arm back on reflex. "Bradly, have you lost your mind? Haven't you stirred up enough drama for one day?" But he barreled on, blind to her fury, his reddened eyes locked on her as if he could swallow her up. "What's really between you two? "Stella, through all our married years, I've bent over backward for you. Anything you desired, I served it up without question. Why would you betray me like this?" In his mind, it was already a done deal: she was entangled in something shady with the man above. If the guy was angling for a favor from him, Bradly would've recognized him right away. People in Ostralver didn't beat around the bush when they needed something from him. They came direct. The jab landed raw and direct. Bradly blinked, frozen for a beat as a flicker of alarm shot through his eyes. Chapter 4 Don't Know You'd Come Bradly said, "I'm sorry, Stella. I didn't mean it like that. I had no right getting jealous over you and some stranger. It's all on me." Bradly's eyes reddened. "But honestly, there's nothing going on between Shanna and me. I just brought her along as a thank-you. Can you let this slide?" Seeing his cue, Shanna ducked her head meekly, her voice catching. "That's right, Mrs. Woodard. I've been bending over backward to keep my distance from Mr. Woodard so you wouldn't get the wrong impression. "I'm not asking for the world, just a decent birthday gift. I didn't grow up with your advantages; you've had everything handed to you and even snagged a catch like Mr. Woodard. Can't I at least pick out something for myself?" "Just a gift, huh?" Stella closed in on her, one step at a time. "Ms. Erickson, I've never given a damn about this 'gift' you're going on about. What gets under my skin is you, a Woodard Group employee, crossing lines you have no business crossing." As they drew closer, Bradly instinctively stepped in front of Shanna, his voice soft and coaxing. "Stella, if it's bugging you this much, I'll transfer her to a branch office once the auction's over. "But for now, cut me some slack. Let Shanna have the bracelet. When we get home, name your price on anything, and it's yours." Shanna bobbed her head in agreement, tears glistening on her lashes as she pleaded, "Stella, I really adore this bracelet. You've got it all already. Why go after the one thing I want? "Or is this just because you hate my guts and can't resist taking shots at me?" "What makes you think I'd ever like you?" Stella let out a cold snort. "This belonged to me from the start. Why the hell would I give it up?" She took the bracelet from the attendant with casual ease, her smile sharp but empty. "Ms. Erickson, know your place." Her refusal to budge finally wore through Bradly's patience, erasing every bit of softness from his face. "Stella, do you have to humiliate me like this in front of everyone? Where does that leave my dignity? "It's just a crappy old bracelet. Am I really worth less to you than some trinket?" He said it with such conviction, as if he'd wiped from his memory the solemn vow he'd made when proposing: that he'd hunt down every single one of her mother's sold-off keepsakes, no matter what. Stella's hand flew up, delivering a resounding slap across his cheek. The sharp crack rang out, pulling shocked stares from every corner of the room. Bradly's head snapped sideways, his face livid as he fixed her with a glare, his words hissing through clenched teeth. "Stella, drop the drama already. Have I pampered you too much these days, turning you into this unreasonable nightmare?" Stella reined in her temper, keeping her tone even. "Bradly, you better not live to regret today." Without another word, she turned and walked out, not sparing a backward glance. As her figure receded, Shanna gently touched the angry red mark on Bradly's cheek, her voice full of worry. "Mr. Woodard, are you okay? "Stella's got no boundaries. How could she hit you with all these people watching?" Bradly swatted her hand aside, his nails digging into his palm as he stared after her retreating path. "I've spoiled her rotten, letting her forget that everything she has comes from me." Shanna peeked at his changing expression, testing the waters. "Mr. Woodard, about the bracelet..." Bradly rubbed his throbbing cheek, pulled a bank card from his pocket, and handed it over. "1.7 million dollars on there. Buy whatever catches your eye." Box 217, Stella rapped on the door, eager to thank the mystery bidder face-to-face. Silence. She caught a server walking by. "Excuse me, any idea where the gentleman from this box headed?" "He slipped out right after nabbing the last item," the server said. Disappointment flashed in her eyes, but Stella pressed on, "Do you know who he was?" The server gave her a regretful smile. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard, we're not allowed to spill on our VIPs. Don't make this harder for us." Catching herself, Stella moved out of the way. "Thanks all the same." By the time she made it home from the auction, an hour had ticked by. Stella went straight up to the study, fired up the computer, and dove into the assets registered under her and Bradly's names. After tallying up the numbers, she snatched her phone, found lawyer Rubin Cobb's contact, and hit dial. She said, "I've sorted out the asset division documents for me and Bradly and sent them over. I need you to handle the property split by tomorrow." Rubin quickly received the files and nodded respectfully. "Of course, Mrs. Woodard. I'll get right on it." Stella stared intently at her computer screen, her grip tightening on the mouse. "If Bradly's committed bigamy, how should our assets be divided?" "Generally, any property the bigamous party gained through the bigamy can be claimed back by the other spouse," Rubin replied matter-of-factly. Half of Bradly's current wealth had come from Stella's investments to support his career early on. Her expression darkened, and she promptly forwarded the marriage license between him and Shanna. "Rubin, please use every legal avenue to recover my half of the assets." After hanging up, Stella slumped back in her chair, utterly drained physically and emotionally. She closed her eyes slowly, but sleep was nowhere in sight. Bradly would never agree to a divorce. Until she had everything locked down, she couldn't let on that anything was amiss. Just then, the study door was kicked open from the outside. Bradly flung his jacket onto the desk and yanked Stella up from her seat in front of the computer. "Do you realize that because of your little outburst, I've become a laughingstock in our circles? "What exactly do you want? Are you still obsessing over what happened back then?" Stella opened her eyes slowly, her gaze settling calmly on Bradly, but she remained silent. A fire raged in Bradly's chest, intensifying by the second, and he couldn't hold back his fury any longer. "Since we got married, have I ever done anything to wrong you? I come home right on time every night after work, I always fill you in on any business dinners, and if there's even a hint of a woman involved, I skip them entirely! I've bent over backward, and it's still not good enough for you?" He remembered every detail crystal clear. In his mind, these were the sacrifices he'd made to marry her. Stella suddenly found the whole thing absurd. She couldn't bear to look at him anymore, so she stood up and walked straight out of the study without a backward glance. Behind her, Bradly's voice echoed heavily. "Stella, no matter what you think, my conscience is clear." It felt like Stella's heart had been shattered into icy fragments, a sharp, bitter pain surging through her. Her mind buzzed, and for a moment, all she could hear was that phrase repeating over and over. She thought, 'My conscience is clear? So, in his eyes, everything he's done is perfectly justifiable.' The next morning, when Stella woke up, Bradly was already gone. On the table sat the breakfast he'd prepared, tailored exactly to her tastes. Stella pressed her lips together, her feelings a complicated tangle. They'd ended things on a sour note last night, yet Bradly had still made her breakfast this morning. But this was the same man who'd lied to her for years. No matter what, it was time to end things with Bradly. She didn't touch the food and headed straight to the office. These past few years, she'd stayed out of Bradly's business dealings. A lot of her old financial records were outdated now, and she needed the latest reports. The secretary looked startled when she saw her, then managed to say, "Mrs. Woodard, are you here to see Mr. Woodard?" "No." Stella replied evenly. "Send the finance manager in to see me." Her shares were second only to Bradly's, giving her full access to every aspect of the company. The secretary hesitated briefly before nodding. Stella noticed her immediately turning to make a phone call, probably alerting Bradly. Stella didn't intervene; let her. She settled into the finance office, sipping her coffee absentmindedly while flipping through magazines on the shelf. Most were glossy entertainment rags, mixed in with novels and comics. Stella frowned, only now picking up on the details: the desk was covered in a pink plaid mat, cluttered with adorable plush toys. The standout pair was a set of couple dolls, their outfits emblazoned with the letters W and E. It hit Stella suddenly what that meant, and just then, the door behind her swung open. Shanna rushed in. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard." She was clutching a cup of coffee as she apologized. "I had no idea you'd drop by like this..." Chapter 5 All For Milford Stella arched an eyebrow as she looked her over. "So you're the finance manager?" Shanna nodded with a quick smile. "That's me. If you need anything at all, just say the word. Bradly, well, Mr. Woodard is tied up in a meeting right now. But don't worry, I'll make sure to relay whatever message you have." Stella let out a soft laugh. "No need for that." She regarded Shanna with clear curiosity. "I'm not looking for Bradly. I'm here to see you." Shanna's smile faltered for a moment before she recovered, her tone turning gentle. "Mrs. Woodard, I get that you're still bothered by what went down at the auction last night, but there's no reason to be so worked up about my connection to Mr. Woodard. After all..." She raised her hand, the elegant diamond ring on her finger glinting under the light, perfectly complementing her bashful grin. "I'm already married, and things are great between me and my husband." Stella's eyes locked on the ring, her breath hitching just for an instant. It was ridiculous. In this whole messed-up situation, she was the one playing the role of the mistress. The ring was an exact match for the one Bradly had given her during his proposal. But within seconds, Stella averted her gaze. "It's a lovely ring, but you're mistaken." She spoke unhurriedly, "I'm just here to grab the latest financial report from you. That's all." Stella caught the sour shift in Shanna's expression and smiled to herself. "Seems like you're the one on edge here, Ms. Erickson." Shanna's face transformed completely, that smug spark in her eyes snuffed out. She bit her lip, unable to find words for a long beat. Stella watched her with unruffled poise. "Do I need to repeat my request, Ms. Erickson?" The words had barely left her mouth when Bradly burst in, his expression clouding over at the sight. "Stella, wasn't the scene from last night enough?" His voice was laced with ice. "How long are you planning to drag this out? I've told you already. There's nothing going on between me and Shanna. If you don't believe me..." Stella interrupted him mid-sentence, "Oh, I believe you. Absolutely." A faint smirk tugged at her lips, though her eyes remained frosty as they settled on Shanna. "After all, Ms. Erickson's already married. She just mentioned it herself." The statement landed like a bomb. Shanna's face drained of color, and Bradly's followed suit. He shot her a withering glare. Tears sprang to Shanna's eyes in an instant. Stella had no interest in watching the drama unfold any further. She said evenly, "I'm here for this year's financials. I hold forty percent of the company. Surely I can access that, right?" Bradly seemed to snap back to reality, nodding hastily. "Of course you can." He barked orders at the secretary to fetch it immediately, all the while stealing wary glances at her face. Once he confirmed she wasn't giving anything away, he exhaled almost imperceptibly in relief. He said, "Stella, what's with the sudden interest? You've never bothered with company matters before." Stella answered coolly, "After the account freeze last night, I decided it's smarter to set up a separate one." Bradly's expression froze again. "Stella..." The secretary returned promptly with the report. Stella brushed Bradly aside, skimmed through it quickly, and was heading for the door when he caught her by the wrist. He said, "Stella, about the family dinner tonight, are you coming home with me?" His tone was pleading, like he needed her answer to reassure himself that she hadn't caught on to anything fishy. Stella didn't look back, just replying calmly, "Sure." Bradly's face lit up. "Great, I'll swing by after work to pick you up." Stella dropped her gaze, masking the cool detachment in her eyes. She'd only agreed to head back to the family estate for one specific reason. The marriage license from when she and Bradly had tied the knot was a phony, but he'd made a whole production out of stashing it away at the house, claiming it had to be kept secure. Nothing could serve as stronger proof. Once she got her hands on it, his bigamy would be ironclad. Stella didn't bother waiting for Bradly; she hailed a cab and got there ahead of time. She'd figured it was just a standard family gathering, but she was caught off guard by the full turnout. Bradly's parents, fresh from their overseas vacation last week, were back, and even the distant relatives from the Woodard family's side branches had shown up en masse. "Stella, dear." As she walked in, Nadine Woodard peered over her shoulder. "Bradly didn't come with you?" Stella answered evenly, "He'll be along shortly." Nadine clicked her tongue, her irritation obvious. "On an important occasion like this, letting someone from outside the family arrive solo, what's got into him?" Stella's brow furrowed just a touch. She and Bradly had been engaged since childhood, but after her mother's passing, the Daniels family's status had tanked while the Woodard family kept climbing. That was when Nadine started pushing to scrap the arrangement, and she'd mentioned it more than a few times. But Chuck Woodard was upright and principled, flat-out refusing to play the social-climbing game. With Bradly dead set on marrying her and no one else, Nadine had reluctantly given in, though she made her resentment clear. Even after the marriage, she never passed up an opportunity to give Stella the cold shoulder. She was about to add something else when the butler rushed in and murmured, "He's here." Nadine promptly dropped the subject with Stella and jumped to her feet, the extended family hustling out right behind her to welcome the arrivals. The level of pomp surprised Stella. The Woodard family was already at the top of Ostralver's social elite. For them to pull out all the stops like this... Standing at the edge of the group, Stella glanced up and saw a black Maybach rolling up to the front of the estate. Someone hurried forward to open the door respectfully, and a tall, imposing figure stepped out unhurriedly. The man wore a sleek black suit, his chiseled features sharp, eyes as midnight, radiating a fierce intensity. Every gesture exuded a natural poise and authority that made it tough to hold his stare. The crowd swarmed forward in a rush, but he stayed cool and detached the whole time, his stunningly handsome face as impassive as carved ice, showing zero emotion. Then, as if picking up on something, he looked up toward Stella. Their eyes locked unexpectedly, sending her heart pounding. It was Milford Woodard, Bradly's brother. He'd returned to the country. Though they were brothers in name, Milford wasn't all that tight with the family. He'd headed overseas young and had spent years growing the business abroad. His father Edward Woodard was a total lightweight, good only at spending cash, not earning it. His grandpa Chuck had the smarts and drive, but age was catching up, leaving him unable to manage it all. Real power over the Woodard family had shifted to Milford ages ago. Stella let out a quiet breath. She thought, 'That explains the big crowd today. They've all turned out for Milford.' Chapter 6 Need Help? Stella lingered in the corner of the living room, watching the relatives descend like a swarm of locusts, all scrambling to surround Milford. Bradly stood next to Nadine, flashing a polished smile as he greeted, "Hey, Milford." The uncles who'd been buttering up Bradly just a minute ago quickly switched gears, beaming with over-the-top enthusiasm as they stepped up to say hello. "Milford, what prompted the sudden return?" "Milford, I hear you're in the middle of acquiring a domestic company? You're just getting more impressive by the day." "Come on inside, take a seat. We've got some top-shelf coffee." Bradly caught the stark contrast in the uncles' warmth, his smile fading briefly before he pulled it together and led the way forward. Stella quietly eyed the tall, strikingly handsome Milford striding into the living room like the star of the show, instinctively edging back a step. Now fully pushed to the fringes of the crowd, she shifted aside to let the trailing group pass, doing everything she could to blend into the wallpaper. Milford approached steadily. Unlike Bradly's flashy, outgoing vibe, he had a more brooding, aloof kind of handsomeness, like a pine tree blanketed in snow, regal and intimidating. He acknowledged the flattery around him with simple nods, his eyes scanning the room casually, subtly taking stock of everyone there. Until his gaze swept over Stella again, and he came to an abrupt halt. He paused, causing Bradly to stop too. "Something wrong, Milford?" Milford didn't respond, his steady gaze fixed on Stella. It was only a look, but it jolted her to her core. She felt an odd sense of being claimed, uninvited. Yet she'd barely crossed paths with Milford before. Bradly and the others traced his stare, his eyebrow quirking up. "Stella, come say hi to Big Milford." Stella started to step forward, but Milford beat her to it, walking straight toward her. Bradly and the rest exchanged surprised glances. So far, everyone had been approaching Milford. He hadn't initiated with a soul. Milford's deep eyes gave nothing away. "Stella?" Her breath hitched, like a faint breeze had brushed her ear. She hadn't anticipated him coming over to chat. It had been years, and they'd only met once or twice, but he still remembered her. Stella nodded. "Milford, it's been ages—" Before she could finish, Milford held out his hand. The move was so casual, so natural. Out of pure reflex and politeness, Stella extended hers, their palms connecting. In that brief clasp, she felt him squeeze gently, his thumb settling on her fingers and grazing them with a warm intensity. Milford released after just a second. Suddenly, Bradly sidled up, drawing Stella into his side with an arm around her waist, lacing his fingers through her left hand. He said, "Milford, how long are you in town this time? Stella and I can take you out to dinner one of these days." Milford took in their cozy pose, his glance dropping to their intertwined hands. "About a month." The words had barely left his mouth when Chuck came down the stairs, leaning on the butler for support. Milford headed over to talk with him. Not long after, the kitchen called that the party was ready. Stella trailed Bradly to their seats on the left side of the main table. Everyone filed in and sat. As the eldest branch, the two Woodard brothers took priority. Chuck claimed the head of the main table, with Nadine and Milford next in line. Stella and Bradly fell further down the order, landing her right across from Milford on the diagonal. The family feast got underway, with everyone firing questions at Milford about what he'd been up to lately. Stella kept her head down, nibbling at her food while catching bits of the conversation. Zrester bigwig, major stakeholder in Wonder Group, founder of that financial exchange and the smart transportation AI... Milford's credentials were endless and mind-blowing. She thought back to that Zrester party invite list she'd snagged years ago. Milford was third from the top, while she languished at the bottom. In all these years, she'd had next to no interaction with him. Right after the wedding, this mysterious Milford had only shown up once. He dropped off a gift and vanished. In just a handful of years, Milford had climbed to the pinnacle of Zrester's power players. His talent was obvious. Before long, the family party wound down, and folks scattered to grab desserts. Still hung up on that marriage license, Stella excused herself to head upstairs for a coat change. Bradly was itching to chat with Milford, his gaze fixed that way as he muttered distractedly, "Yeah, go on up." Stella wasted no time hustling upstairs. With the crowd milling about downstairs, she slipped to the third floor of the villa and nudged open Bradly's bedroom door. There it was: the glaring marriage license perched right on top of the nightstand, framed, flanked by their wedding portrait. As she stepped closer, memories of Bradly's cozy moments with Shanna flooded her brain, her nails digging slowly into her palm. That license seared her eyes, like it was sneering at her gullibility. She never should've caved, never should've handed Bradly a second shot. It just went to show that people's hearts circled back for seconds. Disgust flickered in her eyes as she hauled the desk's computer chair over, the kind with wheels and a swivel, shaky at best. She climbed onto it, planting one foot on the bed for stability, teetering just enough to hold steady. Stella hiked up her pearl-white knee-length dress a bit and stretched upward slowly. Fingers extended to the max, but she was still a couple inches shy. She rose onto her tiptoes, straining, but no dice. Frowning from her perch, she scanned around and snagged a book from beside the cabinet. As she leaned down, footsteps suddenly echoed outside the door. Fast, but measured. A man's, for sure. Her pulse spiked. She clutched the table, scrambling to hop down, but, perfect timing, her other sleeve caught on the cabinet's edge. She tugged frantically to break free, but it was too late to descend. The door flew open out of nowhere. Stella went rigid, her knees giving way as she toppled backward off the chair. A quick yelp escaped her, but the expected crash never hit. A firm hand latched precisely onto her thigh, another banding around her waist, hauling her into a solid hold and planting her feet firmly on the floor. She slammed into a warm, toned chest, a crisp, grounding sandalwood aroma enveloping her, not Bradly's scent. Stella glanced up, nearly clipping the guy's chin. Milford let go right away, backing off a step to give her space. Her cheeks burned, the thigh he'd gripped feeling like it was on fire. Mortified and frozen, she stammered, "Th-thanks." Milford stayed composed, his eyes skimming her flushed face and the pinkened patch of skin on her thigh from his hold. His Adam's apple dipped subtly. "Didn't realize you were in here. My bad." Stella shook her head, even more flustered. She was the one imposing on him. Milford flicked a glance upward. "Need some help?" She looked too. Up top, the marriage license screamed for attention. Chapter 7 Don't Let Me Hate You Stella just came out with it. "I want to get the marriage license down." Milford hesitated for a beat, without probing why she needed it, and slid the chair out of the way. Tall and long-limbed, he barely had to tip up on his toes to snag it effortlessly. Milford skimmed the lettering on the license, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes before the faintest quirk tugged at his lips, almost undetectable. He passed it over to Stella. "Ah, I see." She missed the words, taking it with a soft murmur: "Thanks, Milford." Her palms were slick with sweat now, but holding the certificate still sent an icy shiver through her. Those bold letters were a brutal reminder. This whole marriage had been one big joke. From beginning to end, Bradly's grand performance of undying love had always had a third wheel in the shadows. Milford dropped his gaze. Towering over her, all he could make out was the neat swirl at the top of her head, round and oddly appealing. Those slim, pale hands gripped the certificate like a vise, completely bloodless. Milford asked offhandedly, "So, what's the marriage license for?" "Oh, I just want to bring it home and store it there," Stella shot back, pulling an excuse out of thin air. Milford's stare felt like it enveloped her, the heat of it almost scorching, though he kept his hands to himself. Then he casually adjusted his cufflinks and turned to go. Stella let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, sagging against the cool cabinet. Her thigh still tingled with warmth from his grip; she quickly smoothed her skirt down, tucked the license into her bag, and only left the room once everything looked undisturbed. Bradly was still out in the back garden, deep in conversation. Stella kept her face neutral, strolling over to stand at his side. A few relatives were chatting with him. "Hey, word is Milford actually got back a couple days ago, but only tipped us off today." Bradly looked taken aback. "I thought he was flying in today?" "Nope, sounds like he hit up some auction. I only heard bits and pieces, supposedly the other night at the Empire Auction House." "He must not have gone. I was there that evening too, and I didn't see him anywhere," Bradly said, frowning in confusion. Stella's eyelashes flickered subtly, but she played it cool. Out of nowhere, her mind jumped back to that enigmatic bidder in suite 217. She wondered, 'Could Milford be the mystery guest who got the bracelet for me?' She shoved the thought down as soon as it surfaced. They'd only crossed paths once, total strangers really, connected by the flimsiest in-law tie. No matter how you sliced it, Milford wouldn't stick his neck out for her. Just like Bradly said, he hadn't caught wind of anything, so it couldn't be Milford. Stella let it go. After some more mingling, the group started to break up. Bradly steered her over to bid farewell to Milford. "Mom, Milford, we're taking off. Let's set up a family dinner soon when things settle." Milford slouched back in his chair with effortless nonchalance and gave a nod. "I'm knee-deep in an acquisition, no hurry on the get-together. But you..." He lifted his head, his expression sharpening. "Keep your life on the straight and narrow. Don't veer off track." The edge of warning in his voice was crystal clear. Bradly had grown up overshadowed by Milford; he went rigid but brushed it off casually. "Come on, everything's good. My company's running smooth as ever. If you're skeptical, drop by anytime and pore over the financials—knock yourself out." "It's not just about the company," Milford said softly, eyes down as he savored a sip of coffee. Stella couldn't help stealing a glance at him, and in that instant, a ridiculous idea struck her. From what Bradly had mentioned, Milford was abroad most of the time but still had the inside scoop on everything back home. She wondered, 'Does he know about the shady stuff Bradly is up to on the sly?' "Milford, I hear you. I'll make sure to nurture my marriage with Stella, our whole life together." Bradly grinned, threading his fingers through Stella's. Milford's gaze lingered on their joined hands for a second before drifting away, sealed with a subtle nod. Stella had no desire for any more close contact with Bradly, so she subtly shook his hand free without thinking. A split second later, his disbelieving stare locked onto her face, and he tried to grab her again. She'd known her move would humiliate him in the moment, so she didn't bother saying goodbye to Milford. She just turned and walked out ahead. Once they slid into the car, Bradly shed his polite, deferential mask from earlier, reverting to his entitled rich-kid swagger. He tugged his tie loose, a flicker of annoyance pinching his brows. "Always playing the big-brother card to chew me out, same crap since we were little. "So what if he's crushing it overseas? I'm holding my own just fine back home. Who in Ostralver would even think about messing with me?" Bradly fished out a menthol cigarette on autopilot, ready to light up, but he caught himself after glancing at Stella and shoved it back. He said, "All these years, folks have been whispering, or saying it straight to my face, that my company's thriving because of his pull. Like he's behind every damn thing. "And you? You flat-out refused to let me hold your hand back there. Trying to make me look like an idiot in front of him?" His expression iced over, the edge in his voice impossible to miss. Stella's frown deepened as she took it in. Even without knowing Milford all that well, she understood that Bradly's cocky antics in Ostralver, brushing people off like they were nothing, had always been propped up by Milford's clout. She'd assumed the brothers were tight, but clearly Bradly's respect was just for show; underneath, his grudge against Milford simmered deep. She could overlook a lot, but with things the way they were now, there was zero point in him putting on that phony hand-holding act. Stella gripped her bag, the one with the marriage license inside, and couldn't bite her tongue. "We haven't held hands in forever. It feels off to me." The car went dead quiet. She was right. Their physical closeness had dwindled so much that even she couldn't pinpoint the last time. Bradly's brow creased, and he snapped the cigarette filter clean off between his fingers. "What was that?" Stella met his eyes steadily. "From here on out, let's skip the pointless touchy-feely stuff. It just doesn't sit right." She hadn't even finished when the brakes screeched harshly. The car lurched to a halt on the empty shoulder of the road. Stella almost smacked into the window from the force, her pulse hammering as she barked, "Are you out of your mind?" Bradly loomed over her, fingers digging into her chin, irritation boiling in his glare. "Stella, do you have any idea what you're saying?" The pinch stung like crazy, and the absurdity of it all hit her as she wrestled to shove him off. "Is it not true? When's the last time we even held hands. Can you remember?" Bradly's gaze turned stormy, like she'd struck a raw spot. "I bet you're hung up on Milford, just like that girl from the second branch. That's why you pulled away in front of him. You're trying to cut ties with me?" "Bradly! What the hell are you babbling about?" Anger surged through her as she pushed harder. "Don't you dare pin your gross history on me!" The way the family had orbited Milford like he was the sun had obviously gotten under his skin. The more she resisted, the darker his look grew. Abruptly, he leaned in and smashed his mouth against hers. Stella's eyes flew wide, her head whipping aside to evade as she hammered at his shoulders with everything she had. He'd locked lips with Shanna god knows how often. The thought turned her stomach, so she clamped down and bit him hard. Bradly yelped in pain, jerking back as the fog cleared and he clocked what he'd just done, regret flashing across his face. Blood dotted his lip, but he brushed it off, lunging to wrap her in his arms. "I'm sorry, Stella, baby, I'm so sorry. I screwed up; it was a stupid impulse..." Drained of energy, Stella sagged into the passenger seat, letting him hold her while a barren wave of emptiness and revulsion washed over her. The hug she'd once melted into now repulsed her to her core. "Get off me." Her voice came out rough and scratchy. "Bradly, don't push me to hating you."
Chapter 1 Don't Want Him Anymore "I'm sorry, ma'am." On the other end of the line, the insurance customer service rep said coolly, "After checking our records, the car owner, Mr. Woodard, is indeed married, but the spouse listed here isn't you." Stella Daniels had gotten into a car accident on her way to the Woodard Group headquarters. She couldn't get through to Bradly Woodard on his phone, so she had no choice but to call the insurance company. The car was registered in Bradly's name, but as his wife, she should be able to process the claim too. "When Mr. Woodard picked up the car, he came with his wife and provided the original marriage license. Her last name is Erickson, and her full name is Shanna Erickson," the rep said. It hit Stella like a slap in the face. Dizziness washed over her in waves, leaving her whole body shaking uncontrollably. She and Bradly had been childhood sweethearts. Their families were old friends, and everyone in Ostralver's high society knew how clingy he was with her. Bradly couldn't stand being apart from her even for a single day. Three years ago, when Stella headed abroad for her studies, Bradly had the plane stopped just for her. During her three years in Ensland, he expanded his business overseas to make it easier to look after her. Sixteen thousand miles apart, he'd still fly across the ocean every week to see her. The year she came down with a severe lung illness and nearly didn't pull through, she spent a week in intensive care. Bradly ignored the infection risks and stayed right by her side, sliding a ring onto her finger. He said, "If anything happens to you, I'll go with you. We'll be husband and wife in the next life too." For Bradly's sake, she turned down her mentor's offer to stay on in the lab and headed back home. Brimming with excitement, she went to find him, planning to surprise him. But when she pushed open the door to the CEO's office, she saw a slender, pretty woman straddling his lap. The woman's innocent face tilted upward, her voice whiny and aggrieved. "Mr. Woodard, what happens to me now that Stella is back?" Bradly sat in his executive chair, his tall frame looming over her. A flash of ruthlessness crossed his stern features. "You? You're just her stand-in. Don't forget your place." He lifted his hand, pinching her delicate chin with a sneer. "Barely a three-out-of-ten resemblance, and you think you can compare to her?" Stella was still clutching the gift she'd prepared for him. With a loud "bang," it dropped to the floor, finally breaking the scene in the office. Bradly's face drained of color as he shoved the woman off and jumped to his feet. That woman was Shanna. After Stella caught them in the act, Bradly fired Shanna on the spot and pulled out all the stops to win her back. Bradly, the arrogant prince of Ostralver's elite circles, humbled himself to the dust before her, begging her to give him another chance. Any project she set her sights on, he'd drop without a second thought. He stood in the pouring rain outside her building for over a week, just for a glimpse of her. He said, "Stella, I'm not asking you to forgive me. At least let me explain. "I only ever saw Shanna as your replacement. You've been gone abroad for so long; I missed you terribly. I swear, I just kept her around. Nothing more ever happened between us. "That time you walked in, I'd had too much to drink, and she deliberately tempted me. I lost control for a moment... "I've already let her go, and she won't show up in our lives again. Stella, please, come back to me." Back then, Stella couldn't stand even the slightest betrayal. She insisted on breaking off the engagement. Until that one incident. She was kidnapped by a business rival. The kidnappers reneged on the deal, tied her up in an abandoned factory, and set the place ablaze. Bradly charged into the flames without a second thought to rescue her, shielding her from a collapsing steel beam. He ended up gravely injured, confined to bed for nearly six months. By risking his life, Bradly finally melted her resolve. Once he was out of the hospital, she accepted his proposal, and they threw a lavish wedding. In the two years since they tied the knot, he'd treated her just as devotedly as ever, with zero scandals. He even imposed a strict curfew on himself, heading home right on time every day. Even on out-of-town business trips, he'd video call her constantly. His partners would tease him about being henpecked. He never denied it. Instead, he'd grin proudly and say, "A real man takes care of his family." Memories rushed through Stella's mind like a whirlwind, every past moment flashing by in a blur. Her legs buckled, and she dropped to her knees, burying her face in her hands. She couldn't figure out which Bradly was the real one anymore. A bitter, mocking gleam sparked in her eyes. She thought, 'How absurd.' She'd been his wife for two years, and only now was she learning that even their marriage license had been a sham. Stella scrubbed her face hard, her bangs already soaked with cold sweat. She ignored the other driver's furious yelling and calmly dialed the police. They showed up fast. After finishing her statement, Stella left the station under a sky that had gone completely dark. Her phone lit up with several missed calls from Bradly. When she hadn't answered, he'd sent texts instead. Bradly: [Babe, I was tied up in a key meeting this afternoon. Signal jammers were on, so I missed your call. You okay?] Bradly: [I've got a client dinner tonight, so I'll be late getting home. I double-checked: no women involved, so no need to worry.] Bradly: [Head to bed early. Don't wait up. Love you.] Stella stared at the screen, a sharp wave of irony twisting in her gut. Bradly didn't stagger in until the wee hours. He reeked of alcohol, which almost, but not quite, masked the subtle whiff of perfume on him. "Honey..." He could barely keep his balance, stumbling over to wrap his arms around her through the blanket. "I missed you so damn much..." Stella didn't say a word. Only once he was dead to the world did she sit up quietly and unlock his phone with his fingerprint. The thing was squeaky clean, no suspicious traces at all. His contacts were mostly buddies and business folks, with hers pinned at the top as "Darling Wife." Flawlessly tidy, just like their sham of a marriage. Stella hooked the phone up to her computer, and it didn't take long to uncover his second WhatsApp account. She signed in, and right away, messages popped up from a profile with a cute pink kitten avatar, labeled "Baby." Shanna: [Bradly, thanks for tonight. Without you, I wouldn't have known what to do.] Shanna: [I've always thought meeting you was the luckiest thing that's ever happened to me. I won't intrude on your life. As long as you swing by to see me once in a while, that's enough to make me happy.] Stella scrolled back through the history. She'd suspected as much, but seeing it all laid out still hit her like a punch to the chest, leaving her breathless. They chatted nearly every day. Shanna never missed a good morning message, and Bradly's replies had shifted over time, from total silence at first, to sporadic responses, and now to answering every single one. A chill spread through her. Stella clutched the phone tighter, knowing she should quit while she was ahead but unable to stop herself from digging deeper. Shanna: [Bradly, sorry, I had a few drinks and lost it for a bit. Doc says I'm okay now, so don't stress.] Shanna: [Mrs. Woodard's birthday bash is important. Go enjoy it with her. I'll be fine.] Stella squeezed her eyes shut as the memory came rushing back. Her birthday. Bradly had spent over a month planning it down to the last detail, but that day, he was totally distracted. Hell, he almost cut his own hand while slicing the cake. When she'd asked what was up, he'd brushed it off as work drama, told her not to worry, then pulled her into a soft embrace and encouraged her to blow out the candles and make a wish. It all made sense now, as she stared at this chat log. That same day, Shanna had tried to kill herself by slashing her wrists and ended up in the ER. A sour bitterness flooded her chest like a rising tide. In those brief seconds when she'd closed her eyes to wish, she wondered, 'Was he agonizing over Shanna in the hospital, or picturing endless years together with her?' Stella knew she didn't need an answer to that anymore. She gently placed the phone back and looked down at Bradly, fast asleep beside her. She'd known him since she was four, and for the twenty years that followed, she'd truly believed his love was hers alone, irreplaceable. But now she saw it for what it was: just cheap free samples at a store, handed out to anyone who walked by. If that was all it amounted to, she was done with it. Chapter 2 Bid Against Her The next day, Stella woke to find Bradly busy in the kitchen, his broad shoulders narrowing to a slim waist, his tall, lean build moving with purpose. The sight hit her hard, a dull ache tightening in her chest. Bradly had learned to cook entirely for her sake. She still remembered that turbulent period when the Woodard Group was in crisis. His rivals had targeted her, paying off a servant to poison her food. She'd been unconscious for three full days. When she finally woke, Bradly was there, his eyes red-rimmed and veined with exhaustion, gripping her hand like a lifeline. The instant she stirred, the imposing Bradly crumbled forward, enveloping her in a hug as scalding tears fell onto her skin. From then on, Bradly threw himself into cooking lessons, taking charge of all her meals. In less than a month, he'd gone from a spoiled elite who couldn't distinguish spices to turning out dishes worthy of a Michelin chef. Just then, his phone rang. Stella glanced at it but made no move to answer. Bradly darted out of the kitchen, apron still on, grabbing the phone with a barely concealed flash of anxiety. Stella pretended not to notice and went to wash up. When she came back, the table was set with breakfast, and he was slipping into his suit jacket from the coat rack. Seeing her, he said gently, "There's an emergency at work. I have to run. Sorry I can't join you for breakfast." Stella murmured, "Sure, work comes first." He was clearly in a hurry, because he didn't pick up on the new edge of cool distance in her tone and rushed out. She stared blankly after him until he was gone, then dumped the entire spread into the trash. Then she picked up her phone and dialed a number. "That offer you made before? I'm on board." The person on the other end erupted in delight, chattering away before shifting to broken Andosa Language. "Stella, why the sudden change of heart? I've bugged you about this so many times, and you always said you were married now and focusing on family." A mocking glint flickered in Stella's eyes. She thought, 'Married? This so-called marriage has been dead on arrival.' The caller was her former mentor from her overseas studies. He'd reached out lately, hoping she'd join his new team and spearhead a major project. At the time, she'd kept saying no out of loyalty to Bradly. Now, she only wished she'd seen through the absurd joke of their marriage earlier. After the call, she contacted immigration to schedule a passport renewal. It would take about a week. But before heading out, she had one loose end to tie up. That evening, Stella showed up at a private auction at the Cloud Hotel. She was after one of her mother's keepsakes. Her mom had died when she was eight, and soon after, the Daniels family had liquidated her wedding gift. Stella had been hunting down the items ever since. Over the years, she'd only reclaimed a few. Tonight's auction featured a bracelet from that collection, one her mother had picked up on a trip to Ijance. It was utterly unique, irreplaceable. Whatever it took, she was getting it back. Stella settled into her seat just as the auction was about to start. She was flipping through the catalog when Bradly's voice floated over. "Didn't I already pick out that royal blue sapphire set for you? Not good enough?" His voice carried that familiar tenderness. Shanna linked her arm with his, pouting playfully. "Your taste sucks! I want to pick my own birthday gift." Stella watched them quietly until Bradly threaded through the guests and their gazes collided by chance. The color drained from his face. On pure reflex, he jerked his arm away from Shanna. "Stella." He strode over quickly. "I tried calling you a few times, but you didn't answer. Were you planning to surprise me?" Even though he tried to play it cool, she could still catch that subtle hint of panic in his expression. Stella didn't bother calling him on it, replying evenly, "My phone was on silent. I didn't hear it." Bradly visibly relaxed, casually taking her hand in his with a look of concern. "Your hands are like ice. Didn't I warn you about the cold snap today? You're always putting style over staying warm. If you catch a chill, you know it'll just kill me." As he talked, he signaled a server for a blanket and draped it snugly around her shoulders. Stella kept a straight face, brushing him off as she looked past him to Shanna, who lingered behind with a scowl. Shanna nibbled her lip, then defiantly dropped into the seat next to Bradly, her gaze simmering with irritation. Bradly leaned closer, dropping his voice to explain, "We just wrapped up a major project at the company, and Shanna pulled her weight big time. Her birthday's around the corner, so I thought I'd treat her to something as a project bonus." He eyed her anxiously. "Stella, you're not mad, right?" Shanna piped up in a soft, vulnerable tone. "Mrs. Woodard, if this upsets you, I'll just go. I don't want to get in the way of you and Mr. Woodard." Stella's mouth quirked into a smile that never touched her eyes. "We're married. A little thing like this? Of course it doesn't bother me." The auction got underway shortly after. Bradly treated Shanna like she was invisible, focusing entirely on Stella. He paged through the catalog, throwing in bids left and right. "Babe, this would look amazing on you." He grinned, tenderly brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his tone warm and intimate. "You'd be gorgeous in it." Stella averted her eyes, but out of the corner of her vision, she saw Shanna discreetly clutching the edge of Bradly's jacket in the dim light. Their gazes locked for a split second in a shared, lingering look. She masked the derision in her own eyes, struck by how absurd it all was. Bradly seemed totally at ease juggling both women, convinced he was keeping things balanced, one with the official status, the other with his undivided public attention. She thought, 'What could be fairer than that?' But Stella had never been interested in that kind of equilibrium. Her world extended far beyond romance. Bradly? He was just a small detour on her path, a misstep she'd own up to. And now, it was time to set things right. "Next up: a string of bracelet. Fine-grained texture, deep aroma that lingers. Starting bid at 170,000 dollars, with increments of at least 20,000 dollars!" The auctioneer's pumped-up voice echoed through the room. Finally, Stella's main target for the evening. Bids flew in fast, the screen flickering with updates as the auctioneer called out, "Number 17 lady at 200,000 dollars! Number 9 gentleman ups it to 260,000 dollars! Going higher?" Once the initial frenzy tapered off, Stella lifted her paddle. "500,000 dollars." She'd doubled the current bid in one go. It was a hefty amount. Sure, the bracelet was top-notch, but it wasn't the auction's highlight. The room went quiet after her call; no one countered. "Fantastic! Number 11 lady at 500,000 dollars! "500,000 dollars once! 500,000 dollars twice!" The auctioneer hoisted his gavel, poised to bring it down. "No more bids? Then 500,000 dollars—" "520,000 dollars," A gentle, hesitant voice interrupted. Shanna shrank against Bradly's side, paddle in hand, murmuring timidly to him, "Is this where I put in the amount?" Chapter 3 You're Dirty Stella frowned and raised her bid. "540,000 dollars." But Shanna was right behind her, countering with, "560,000 dollars." How annoyingly precise, each time, she stuck to the bare minimum, slapping on just 20,000 dollars more than Stella's offer. Shanna turned toward her, her voice dripping with plea. "Stella, you've got plenty of jewelry already. Please, let me have this one. I adore it. "I'm not like you, born with money, everything handed to you on a silver platter. You snap your fingers and get whatever you want. If it goes any higher, I really won't be able to keep up." Stella didn't bother looking at her, just quirking her lips in a thin smile. "Isn't Mr. Woodard covering the cost for you? What are you stressing about?" Shanna's face went a shade paler, but she answered in that soft, demure tone, "Even so, Mr. Woodard earns his money the hard way. If I can save him a bit, I ought to." She was the epitome of considerate and caring. After several more back-and-forth bids, the bracelet's price had soared to 700,000 dollars. Stella let out a chilly scoff and was opening her mouth to up the ante when Bradly beat her to it. He said, "Babe, why don't we just let Shanna take this bracelet?" Stella's fingers curled into a tight fist, her nails biting into her palm. She lifted her gaze, any lingering warmth in her eyes turning to ice. "What did you just say?" Bradly let out a resigned sigh, giving her hand a comforting pat as he murmured gently, "Babe, I already told Shanna she'd get a gift tonight, and she's got her heart set on this one. No need to compete with her. "Plus, I've already snagged you a handful of other pieces. Isn't that plenty?" He said it all lightly, teasingly, as if it were nothing more than a harmless quip. Stella shut her eyes, a nameless sourness creeping along her nerves, coiling around her heart until it felt like she couldn't draw a breath. Given Shanna's modest background, 700,000 dollars was way out of her league. She wouldn't even make the guest list here on her own. The only reason she was in that seat, trading bids blow for blow, was Bradly's backing. His pampering had delivered her straight into Stella's path. Stella whispered, "What if I refuse to back down?" She hoisted her paddle once more, her voice echoing through the room. "1 million dollars." A hush blanketed the hall. The auctioneer clearly picked up on the drama, his delivery faltering. "Number eleven at 1 million dollars. Do I hear higher?" Shanna's eyes welled up, on the verge of tears, as she cast a helpless look at Bradly before tacking on another fifty thousand. "1 million 20 thousand dollars." Stella's features hardened to frost, and she was poised to fire back when the manager bustled over, bending close to murmur, "Mrs. Woodard, apologies. We ran a credit verification on your account, and it's frozen. Got another one we can use?" The words slammed into her like a bolt from the blue, ringing in her ears. She snapped her head toward Bradly, but he'd already looked away. An icy numbness spread through her arms and legs. She though,t 'Of course, it has to be him.' Her primary account was linked with his; besides her, only he could authorize a freeze on her cards. Triumph flickered in Shanna's eyes as she added with a pointed edge, "Well, in that case, Mrs. Woodard, maybe it's time to step aside. You've got so much already. Can't you let me have this one little thing?" Up on stage, the auction rolled on, the display frozen on Shanna's latest bid: 1 million 20 thousand dollars. Shanna could hardly hide her glee, chirping sweetly, "Go on, call it!" But the words had barely left her lips when someone announced he would bid for the lot at any costs right in the second-floor VIP suite. After a momentary silence, the room burst into chaos. "He's declared absolute intent!" Even the auctioneer's expression changed. He'd been in the game for over a decade, but this was his first encounter with such a scenario. He hurriedly called out, "Lot number six goes to the gentleman in box 217, regardless of how high the price goes." Anyone up in those second-floor VIP suites was either swimming in money or held serious sway in Ostralver's upper crust. Stella glanced upward toward the source of the voice, catching only a vague outline behind the draped curtains. Even when she couldn't see his face, the man's crossed-legged posture radiated an unspoken dominance that pressed down on the room. The auctioneer slammed his gavel down with finality, proclaiming, "Congratulations to our esteemed guest in box 217 on winning lot number six! You're now upgraded to black gold status!" Across all of Ostralver's elite scene, fewer than a handful had ever hit black gold level at these events. Stella wondered, 'Just who is this mystery man?' Stella loosened her clenched fist slightly, torn between relief that her mother's heirloom hadn't landed in Shanna's clutches and anxiety over reclaiming it from this unknown figure. No matter what, she'd stop at nothing, pay any price, to bring her mother's possession home. She rose to her feet, intent on marching over to box 217 for a chat, when the attendant who'd just ducked inside reappeared, tray in hand with the bracelet. "What's this? The bidder in 217 having second thoughts?" "Auctions don't do take-backs." "Probably short on funds. I called it. No one's done this here before." As the murmurs swirled, the attendant headed straight for Stella, dipping into a courteous bow with a warm smile. She said, "Mrs. Woodard, the gentleman in box 217 requests that I deliver the bracelet to you as a gift. He wishes for you to follow your true path and for all to unfold as it should." The place erupted in gossip once more, with guests shooting glances her way, some envious, others skeptical, many flat-out stunned. "Isn't that Mrs. Woodard? What's her deal with the upstairs guy?" "Likely just buttering up Mr. Woodard." "Nah, I don't buy it. Out of all the goodies tonight, why zero in on those beads for Mrs. Woodard? Sounds like she's got a real connection there." The buzz filtered through, and Bradly's face turned stone-cold. In a tight, edged voice, he demanded, "Stella, what's the story with you and whoever's in box 217?" Stella held his piercing stare and said flatly, "I have no idea who he is." "!" Bradly jumped up, clamping down on her wrist like a vice. Her soft, fair skin reddened almost instantly under the pressure. Stella winced sharply, jerking her arm back on reflex. "Bradly, have you lost your mind? Haven't you stirred up enough drama for one day?" But he barreled on, blind to her fury, his reddened eyes locked on her as if he could swallow her up. "What's really between you two? "Stella, through all our married years, I've bent over backward for you. Anything you desired, I served it up without question. Why would you betray me like this?" In his mind, it was already a done deal: she was entangled in something shady with the man above. If the guy was angling for a favor from him, Bradly would've recognized him right away. People in Ostralver didn't beat around the bush when they needed something from him. They came direct. The jab landed raw and direct. Bradly blinked, frozen for a beat as a flicker of alarm shot through his eyes. Chapter 4 Don't Know You'd Come Bradly said, "I'm sorry, Stella. I didn't mean it like that. I had no right getting jealous over you and some stranger. It's all on me." Bradly's eyes reddened. "But honestly, there's nothing going on between Shanna and me. I just brought her along as a thank-you. Can you let this slide?" Seeing his cue, Shanna ducked her head meekly, her voice catching. "That's right, Mrs. Woodard. I've been bending over backward to keep my distance from Mr. Woodard so you wouldn't get the wrong impression. "I'm not asking for the world, just a decent birthday gift. I didn't grow up with your advantages; you've had everything handed to you and even snagged a catch like Mr. Woodard. Can't I at least pick out something for myself?" "Just a gift, huh?" Stella closed in on her, one step at a time. "Ms. Erickson, I've never given a damn about this 'gift' you're going on about. What gets under my skin is you, a Woodard Group employee, crossing lines you have no business crossing." As they drew closer, Bradly instinctively stepped in front of Shanna, his voice soft and coaxing. "Stella, if it's bugging you this much, I'll transfer her to a branch office once the auction's over. "But for now, cut me some slack. Let Shanna have the bracelet. When we get home, name your price on anything, and it's yours." Shanna bobbed her head in agreement, tears glistening on her lashes as she pleaded, "Stella, I really adore this bracelet. You've got it all already. Why go after the one thing I want? "Or is this just because you hate my guts and can't resist taking shots at me?" "What makes you think I'd ever like you?" Stella let out a cold snort. "This belonged to me from the start. Why the hell would I give it up?" She took the bracelet from the attendant with casual ease, her smile sharp but empty. "Ms. Erickson, know your place." Her refusal to budge finally wore through Bradly's patience, erasing every bit of softness from his face. "Stella, do you have to humiliate me like this in front of everyone? Where does that leave my dignity? "It's just a crappy old bracelet. Am I really worth less to you than some trinket?" He said it with such conviction, as if he'd wiped from his memory the solemn vow he'd made when proposing: that he'd hunt down every single one of her mother's sold-off keepsakes, no matter what. Stella's hand flew up, delivering a resounding slap across his cheek. The sharp crack rang out, pulling shocked stares from every corner of the room. Bradly's head snapped sideways, his face livid as he fixed her with a glare, his words hissing through clenched teeth. "Stella, drop the drama already. Have I pampered you too much these days, turning you into this unreasonable nightmare?" Stella reined in her temper, keeping her tone even. "Bradly, you better not live to regret today." Without another word, she turned and walked out, not sparing a backward glance. As her figure receded, Shanna gently touched the angry red mark on Bradly's cheek, her voice full of worry. "Mr. Woodard, are you okay? "Stella's got no boundaries. How could she hit you with all these people watching?" Bradly swatted her hand aside, his nails digging into his palm as he stared after her retreating path. "I've spoiled her rotten, letting her forget that everything she has comes from me." Shanna peeked at his changing expression, testing the waters. "Mr. Woodard, about the bracelet..." Bradly rubbed his throbbing cheek, pulled a bank card from his pocket, and handed it over. "1.7 million dollars on there. Buy whatever catches your eye." Box 217, Stella rapped on the door, eager to thank the mystery bidder face-to-face. Silence. She caught a server walking by. "Excuse me, any idea where the gentleman from this box headed?" "He slipped out right after nabbing the last item," the server said. Disappointment flashed in her eyes, but Stella pressed on, "Do you know who he was?" The server gave her a regretful smile. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard, we're not allowed to spill on our VIPs. Don't make this harder for us." Catching herself, Stella moved out of the way. "Thanks all the same." By the time she made it home from the auction, an hour had ticked by. Stella went straight up to the study, fired up the computer, and dove into the assets registered under her and Bradly's names. After tallying up the numbers, she snatched her phone, found lawyer Rubin Cobb's contact, and hit dial. She said, "I've sorted out the asset division documents for me and Bradly and sent them over. I need you to handle the property split by tomorrow." Rubin quickly received the files and nodded respectfully. "Of course, Mrs. Woodard. I'll get right on it." Stella stared intently at her computer screen, her grip tightening on the mouse. "If Bradly's committed bigamy, how should our assets be divided?" "Generally, any property the bigamous party gained through the bigamy can be claimed back by the other spouse," Rubin replied matter-of-factly. Half of Bradly's current wealth had come from Stella's investments to support his career early on. Her expression darkened, and she promptly forwarded the marriage license between him and Shanna. "Rubin, please use every legal avenue to recover my half of the assets." After hanging up, Stella slumped back in her chair, utterly drained physically and emotionally. She closed her eyes slowly, but sleep was nowhere in sight. Bradly would never agree to a divorce. Until she had everything locked down, she couldn't let on that anything was amiss. Just then, the study door was kicked open from the outside. Bradly flung his jacket onto the desk and yanked Stella up from her seat in front of the computer. "Do you realize that because of your little outburst, I've become a laughingstock in our circles? "What exactly do you want? Are you still obsessing over what happened back then?" Stella opened her eyes slowly, her gaze settling calmly on Bradly, but she remained silent. A fire raged in Bradly's chest, intensifying by the second, and he couldn't hold back his fury any longer. "Since we got married, have I ever done anything to wrong you? I come home right on time every night after work, I always fill you in on any business dinners, and if there's even a hint of a woman involved, I skip them entirely! I've bent over backward, and it's still not good enough for you?" He remembered every detail crystal clear. In his mind, these were the sacrifices he'd made to marry her. Stella suddenly found the whole thing absurd. She couldn't bear to look at him anymore, so she stood up and walked straight out of the study without a backward glance. Behind her, Bradly's voice echoed heavily. "Stella, no matter what you think, my conscience is clear." It felt like Stella's heart had been shattered into icy fragments, a sharp, bitter pain surging through her. Her mind buzzed, and for a moment, all she could hear was that phrase repeating over and over. She thought, 'My conscience is clear? So, in his eyes, everything he's done is perfectly justifiable.' The next morning, when Stella woke up, Bradly was already gone. On the table sat the breakfast he'd prepared, tailored exactly to her tastes. Stella pressed her lips together, her feelings a complicated tangle. They'd ended things on a sour note last night, yet Bradly had still made her breakfast this morning. But this was the same man who'd lied to her for years. No matter what, it was time to end things with Bradly. She didn't touch the food and headed straight to the office. These past few years, she'd stayed out of Bradly's business dealings. A lot of her old financial records were outdated now, and she needed the latest reports. The secretary looked startled when she saw her, then managed to say, "Mrs. Woodard, are you here to see Mr. Woodard?" "No." Stella replied evenly. "Send the finance manager in to see me." Her shares were second only to Bradly's, giving her full access to every aspect of the company. The secretary hesitated briefly before nodding. Stella noticed her immediately turning to make a phone call, probably alerting Bradly. Stella didn't intervene; let her. She settled into the finance office, sipping her coffee absentmindedly while flipping through magazines on the shelf. Most were glossy entertainment rags, mixed in with novels and comics. Stella frowned, only now picking up on the details: the desk was covered in a pink plaid mat, cluttered with adorable plush toys. The standout pair was a set of couple dolls, their outfits emblazoned with the letters W and E. It hit Stella suddenly what that meant, and just then, the door behind her swung open. Shanna rushed in. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard." She was clutching a cup of coffee as she apologized. "I had no idea you'd drop by like this..." Chapter 5 All For Milford Stella arched an eyebrow as she looked her over. "So you're the finance manager?" Shanna nodded with a quick smile. "That's me. If you need anything at all, just say the word. Bradly, well, Mr. Woodard is tied up in a meeting right now. But don't worry, I'll make sure to relay whatever message you have." Stella let out a soft laugh. "No need for that." She regarded Shanna with clear curiosity. "I'm not looking for Bradly. I'm here to see you." Shanna's smile faltered for a moment before she recovered, her tone turning gentle. "Mrs. Woodard, I get that you're still bothered by what went down at the auction last night, but there's no reason to be so worked up about my connection to Mr. Woodard. After all..." She raised her hand, the elegant diamond ring on her finger glinting under the light, perfectly complementing her bashful grin. "I'm already married, and things are great between me and my husband." Stella's eyes locked on the ring, her breath hitching just for an instant. It was ridiculous. In this whole messed-up situation, she was the one playing the role of the mistress. The ring was an exact match for the one Bradly had given her during his proposal. But within seconds, Stella averted her gaze. "It's a lovely ring, but you're mistaken." She spoke unhurriedly, "I'm just here to grab the latest financial report from you. That's all." Stella caught the sour shift in Shanna's expression and smiled to herself. "Seems like you're the one on edge here, Ms. Erickson." Shanna's face transformed completely, that smug spark in her eyes snuffed out. She bit her lip, unable to find words for a long beat. Stella watched her with unruffled poise. "Do I need to repeat my request, Ms. Erickson?" The words had barely left her mouth when Bradly burst in, his expression clouding over at the sight. "Stella, wasn't the scene from last night enough?" His voice was laced with ice. "How long are you planning to drag this out? I've told you already. There's nothing going on between me and Shanna. If you don't believe me..." Stella interrupted him mid-sentence, "Oh, I believe you. Absolutely." A faint smirk tugged at her lips, though her eyes remained frosty as they settled on Shanna. "After all, Ms. Erickson's already married. She just mentioned it herself." The statement landed like a bomb. Shanna's face drained of color, and Bradly's followed suit. He shot her a withering glare. Tears sprang to Shanna's eyes in an instant. Stella had no interest in watching the drama unfold any further. She said evenly, "I'm here for this year's financials. I hold forty percent of the company. Surely I can access that, right?" Bradly seemed to snap back to reality, nodding hastily. "Of course you can." He barked orders at the secretary to fetch it immediately, all the while stealing wary glances at her face. Once he confirmed she wasn't giving anything away, he exhaled almost imperceptibly in relief. He said, "Stella, what's with the sudden interest? You've never bothered with company matters before." Stella answered coolly, "After the account freeze last night, I decided it's smarter to set up a separate one." Bradly's expression froze again. "Stella..." The secretary returned promptly with the report. Stella brushed Bradly aside, skimmed through it quickly, and was heading for the door when he caught her by the wrist. He said, "Stella, about the family dinner tonight, are you coming home with me?" His tone was pleading, like he needed her answer to reassure himself that she hadn't caught on to anything fishy. Stella didn't look back, just replying calmly, "Sure." Bradly's face lit up. "Great, I'll swing by after work to pick you up." Stella dropped her gaze, masking the cool detachment in her eyes. She'd only agreed to head back to the family estate for one specific reason. The marriage license from when she and Bradly had tied the knot was a phony, but he'd made a whole production out of stashing it away at the house, claiming it had to be kept secure. Nothing could serve as stronger proof. Once she got her hands on it, his bigamy would be ironclad. Stella didn't bother waiting for Bradly; she hailed a cab and got there ahead of time. She'd figured it was just a standard family gathering, but she was caught off guard by the full turnout. Bradly's parents, fresh from their overseas vacation last week, were back, and even the distant relatives from the Woodard family's side branches had shown up en masse. "Stella, dear." As she walked in, Nadine Woodard peered over her shoulder. "Bradly didn't come with you?" Stella answered evenly, "He'll be along shortly." Nadine clicked her tongue, her irritation obvious. "On an important occasion like this, letting someone from outside the family arrive solo, what's got into him?" Stella's brow furrowed just a touch. She and Bradly had been engaged since childhood, but after her mother's passing, the Daniels family's status had tanked while the Woodard family kept climbing. That was when Nadine started pushing to scrap the arrangement, and she'd mentioned it more than a few times. But Chuck Woodard was upright and principled, flat-out refusing to play the social-climbing game. With Bradly dead set on marrying her and no one else, Nadine had reluctantly given in, though she made her resentment clear. Even after the marriage, she never passed up an opportunity to give Stella the cold shoulder. She was about to add something else when the butler rushed in and murmured, "He's here." Nadine promptly dropped the subject with Stella and jumped to her feet, the extended family hustling out right behind her to welcome the arrivals. The level of pomp surprised Stella. The Woodard family was already at the top of Ostralver's social elite. For them to pull out all the stops like this... Standing at the edge of the group, Stella glanced up and saw a black Maybach rolling up to the front of the estate. Someone hurried forward to open the door respectfully, and a tall, imposing figure stepped out unhurriedly. The man wore a sleek black suit, his chiseled features sharp, eyes as midnight, radiating a fierce intensity. Every gesture exuded a natural poise and authority that made it tough to hold his stare. The crowd swarmed forward in a rush, but he stayed cool and detached the whole time, his stunningly handsome face as impassive as carved ice, showing zero emotion. Then, as if picking up on something, he looked up toward Stella. Their eyes locked unexpectedly, sending her heart pounding. It was Milford Woodard, Bradly's brother. He'd returned to the country. Though they were brothers in name, Milford wasn't all that tight with the family. He'd headed overseas young and had spent years growing the business abroad. His father Edward Woodard was a total lightweight, good only at spending cash, not earning it. His grandpa Chuck had the smarts and drive, but age was catching up, leaving him unable to manage it all. Real power over the Woodard family had shifted to Milford ages ago. Stella let out a quiet breath. She thought, 'That explains the big crowd today. They've all turned out for Milford.' Chapter 6 Need Help? Stella lingered in the corner of the living room, watching the relatives descend like a swarm of locusts, all scrambling to surround Milford. Bradly stood next to Nadine, flashing a polished smile as he greeted, "Hey, Milford." The uncles who'd been buttering up Bradly just a minute ago quickly switched gears, beaming with over-the-top enthusiasm as they stepped up to say hello. "Milford, what prompted the sudden return?" "Milford, I hear you're in the middle of acquiring a domestic company? You're just getting more impressive by the day." "Come on inside, take a seat. We've got some top-shelf coffee." Bradly caught the stark contrast in the uncles' warmth, his smile fading briefly before he pulled it together and led the way forward. Stella quietly eyed the tall, strikingly handsome Milford striding into the living room like the star of the show, instinctively edging back a step. Now fully pushed to the fringes of the crowd, she shifted aside to let the trailing group pass, doing everything she could to blend into the wallpaper. Milford approached steadily. Unlike Bradly's flashy, outgoing vibe, he had a more brooding, aloof kind of handsomeness, like a pine tree blanketed in snow, regal and intimidating. He acknowledged the flattery around him with simple nods, his eyes scanning the room casually, subtly taking stock of everyone there. Until his gaze swept over Stella again, and he came to an abrupt halt. He paused, causing Bradly to stop too. "Something wrong, Milford?" Milford didn't respond, his steady gaze fixed on Stella. It was only a look, but it jolted her to her core. She felt an odd sense of being claimed, uninvited. Yet she'd barely crossed paths with Milford before. Bradly and the others traced his stare, his eyebrow quirking up. "Stella, come say hi to Big Milford." Stella started to step forward, but Milford beat her to it, walking straight toward her. Bradly and the rest exchanged surprised glances. So far, everyone had been approaching Milford. He hadn't initiated with a soul. Milford's deep eyes gave nothing away. "Stella?" Her breath hitched, like a faint breeze had brushed her ear. She hadn't anticipated him coming over to chat. It had been years, and they'd only met once or twice, but he still remembered her. Stella nodded. "Milford, it's been ages—" Before she could finish, Milford held out his hand. The move was so casual, so natural. Out of pure reflex and politeness, Stella extended hers, their palms connecting. In that brief clasp, she felt him squeeze gently, his thumb settling on her fingers and grazing them with a warm intensity. Milford released after just a second. Suddenly, Bradly sidled up, drawing Stella into his side with an arm around her waist, lacing his fingers through her left hand. He said, "Milford, how long are you in town this time? Stella and I can take you out to dinner one of these days." Milford took in their cozy pose, his glance dropping to their intertwined hands. "About a month." The words had barely left his mouth when Chuck came down the stairs, leaning on the butler for support. Milford headed over to talk with him. Not long after, the kitchen called that the party was ready. Stella trailed Bradly to their seats on the left side of the main table. Everyone filed in and sat. As the eldest branch, the two Woodard brothers took priority. Chuck claimed the head of the main table, with Nadine and Milford next in line. Stella and Bradly fell further down the order, landing her right across from Milford on the diagonal. The family feast got underway, with everyone firing questions at Milford about what he'd been up to lately. Stella kept her head down, nibbling at her food while catching bits of the conversation. Zrester bigwig, major stakeholder in Wonder Group, founder of that financial exchange and the smart transportation AI... Milford's credentials were endless and mind-blowing. She thought back to that Zrester party invite list she'd snagged years ago. Milford was third from the top, while she languished at the bottom. In all these years, she'd had next to no interaction with him. Right after the wedding, this mysterious Milford had only shown up once. He dropped off a gift and vanished. In just a handful of years, Milford had climbed to the pinnacle of Zrester's power players. His talent was obvious. Before long, the family party wound down, and folks scattered to grab desserts. Still hung up on that marriage license, Stella excused herself to head upstairs for a coat change. Bradly was itching to chat with Milford, his gaze fixed that way as he muttered distractedly, "Yeah, go on up." Stella wasted no time hustling upstairs. With the crowd milling about downstairs, she slipped to the third floor of the villa and nudged open Bradly's bedroom door. There it was: the glaring marriage license perched right on top of the nightstand, framed, flanked by their wedding portrait. As she stepped closer, memories of Bradly's cozy moments with Shanna flooded her brain, her nails digging slowly into her palm. That license seared her eyes, like it was sneering at her gullibility. She never should've caved, never should've handed Bradly a second shot. It just went to show that people's hearts circled back for seconds. Disgust flickered in her eyes as she hauled the desk's computer chair over, the kind with wheels and a swivel, shaky at best. She climbed onto it, planting one foot on the bed for stability, teetering just enough to hold steady. Stella hiked up her pearl-white knee-length dress a bit and stretched upward slowly. Fingers extended to the max, but she was still a couple inches shy. She rose onto her tiptoes, straining, but no dice. Frowning from her perch, she scanned around and snagged a book from beside the cabinet. As she leaned down, footsteps suddenly echoed outside the door. Fast, but measured. A man's, for sure. Her pulse spiked. She clutched the table, scrambling to hop down, but, perfect timing, her other sleeve caught on the cabinet's edge. She tugged frantically to break free, but it was too late to descend. The door flew open out of nowhere. Stella went rigid, her knees giving way as she toppled backward off the chair. A quick yelp escaped her, but the expected crash never hit. A firm hand latched precisely onto her thigh, another banding around her waist, hauling her into a solid hold and planting her feet firmly on the floor. She slammed into a warm, toned chest, a crisp, grounding sandalwood aroma enveloping her, not Bradly's scent. Stella glanced up, nearly clipping the guy's chin. Milford let go right away, backing off a step to give her space. Her cheeks burned, the thigh he'd gripped feeling like it was on fire. Mortified and frozen, she stammered, "Th-thanks." Milford stayed composed, his eyes skimming her flushed face and the pinkened patch of skin on her thigh from his hold. His Adam's apple dipped subtly. "Didn't realize you were in here. My bad." Stella shook her head, even more flustered. She was the one imposing on him. Milford flicked a glance upward. "Need some help?" She looked too. Up top, the marriage license screamed for attention. Chapter 7 Don't Let Me Hate You Stella just came out with it. "I want to get the marriage license down." Milford hesitated for a beat, without probing why she needed it, and slid the chair out of the way. Tall and long-limbed, he barely had to tip up on his toes to snag it effortlessly. Milford skimmed the lettering on the license, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes before the faintest quirk tugged at his lips, almost undetectable. He passed it over to Stella. "Ah, I see." She missed the words, taking it with a soft murmur: "Thanks, Milford." Her palms were slick with sweat now, but holding the certificate still sent an icy shiver through her. Those bold letters were a brutal reminder. This whole marriage had been one big joke. From beginning to end, Bradly's grand performance of undying love had always had a third wheel in the shadows. Milford dropped his gaze. Towering over her, all he could make out was the neat swirl at the top of her head, round and oddly appealing. Those slim, pale hands gripped the certificate like a vise, completely bloodless. Milford asked offhandedly, "So, what's the marriage license for?" "Oh, I just want to bring it home and store it there," Stella shot back, pulling an excuse out of thin air. Milford's stare felt like it enveloped her, the heat of it almost scorching, though he kept his hands to himself. Then he casually adjusted his cufflinks and turned to go. Stella let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, sagging against the cool cabinet. Her thigh still tingled with warmth from his grip; she quickly smoothed her skirt down, tucked the license into her bag, and only left the room once everything looked undisturbed. Bradly was still out in the back garden, deep in conversation. Stella kept her face neutral, strolling over to stand at his side. A few relatives were chatting with him. "Hey, word is Milford actually got back a couple days ago, but only tipped us off today." Bradly looked taken aback. "I thought he was flying in today?" "Nope, sounds like he hit up some auction. I only heard bits and pieces, supposedly the other night at the Empire Auction House." "He must not have gone. I was there that evening too, and I didn't see him anywhere," Bradly said, frowning in confusion. Stella's eyelashes flickered subtly, but she played it cool. Out of nowhere, her mind jumped back to that enigmatic bidder in suite 217. She wondered, 'Could Milford be the mystery guest who got the bracelet for me?' She shoved the thought down as soon as it surfaced. They'd only crossed paths once, total strangers really, connected by the flimsiest in-law tie. No matter how you sliced it, Milford wouldn't stick his neck out for her. Just like Bradly said, he hadn't caught wind of anything, so it couldn't be Milford. Stella let it go. After some more mingling, the group started to break up. Bradly steered her over to bid farewell to Milford. "Mom, Milford, we're taking off. Let's set up a family dinner soon when things settle." Milford slouched back in his chair with effortless nonchalance and gave a nod. "I'm knee-deep in an acquisition, no hurry on the get-together. But you..." He lifted his head, his expression sharpening. "Keep your life on the straight and narrow. Don't veer off track." The edge of warning in his voice was crystal clear. Bradly had grown up overshadowed by Milford; he went rigid but brushed it off casually. "Come on, everything's good. My company's running smooth as ever. If you're skeptical, drop by anytime and pore over the financials—knock yourself out." "It's not just about the company," Milford said softly, eyes down as he savored a sip of coffee. Stella couldn't help stealing a glance at him, and in that instant, a ridiculous idea struck her. From what Bradly had mentioned, Milford was abroad most of the time but still had the inside scoop on everything back home. She wondered, 'Does he know about the shady stuff Bradly is up to on the sly?' "Milford, I hear you. I'll make sure to nurture my marriage with Stella, our whole life together." Bradly grinned, threading his fingers through Stella's. Milford's gaze lingered on their joined hands for a second before drifting away, sealed with a subtle nod. Stella had no desire for any more close contact with Bradly, so she subtly shook his hand free without thinking. A split second later, his disbelieving stare locked onto her face, and he tried to grab her again. She'd known her move would humiliate him in the moment, so she didn't bother saying goodbye to Milford. She just turned and walked out ahead. Once they slid into the car, Bradly shed his polite, deferential mask from earlier, reverting to his entitled rich-kid swagger. He tugged his tie loose, a flicker of annoyance pinching his brows. "Always playing the big-brother card to chew me out, same crap since we were little. "So what if he's crushing it overseas? I'm holding my own just fine back home. Who in Ostralver would even think about messing with me?" Bradly fished out a menthol cigarette on autopilot, ready to light up, but he caught himself after glancing at Stella and shoved it back. He said, "All these years, folks have been whispering, or saying it straight to my face, that my company's thriving because of his pull. Like he's behind every damn thing. "And you? You flat-out refused to let me hold your hand back there. Trying to make me look like an idiot in front of him?" His expression iced over, the edge in his voice impossible to miss. Stella's frown deepened as she took it in. Even without knowing Milford all that well, she understood that Bradly's cocky antics in Ostralver, brushing people off like they were nothing, had always been propped up by Milford's clout. She'd assumed the brothers were tight, but clearly Bradly's respect was just for show; underneath, his grudge against Milford simmered deep. She could overlook a lot, but with things the way they were now, there was zero point in him putting on that phony hand-holding act. Stella gripped her bag, the one with the marriage license inside, and couldn't bite her tongue. "We haven't held hands in forever. It feels off to me." The car went dead quiet. She was right. Their physical closeness had dwindled so much that even she couldn't pinpoint the last time. Bradly's brow creased, and he snapped the cigarette filter clean off between his fingers. "What was that?" Stella met his eyes steadily. "From here on out, let's skip the pointless touchy-feely stuff. It just doesn't sit right." She hadn't even finished when the brakes screeched harshly. The car lurched to a halt on the empty shoulder of the road. Stella almost smacked into the window from the force, her pulse hammering as she barked, "Are you out of your mind?" Bradly loomed over her, fingers digging into her chin, irritation boiling in his glare. "Stella, do you have any idea what you're saying?" The pinch stung like crazy, and the absurdity of it all hit her as she wrestled to shove him off. "Is it not true? When's the last time we even held hands. Can you remember?" Bradly's gaze turned stormy, like she'd struck a raw spot. "I bet you're hung up on Milford, just like that girl from the second branch. That's why you pulled away in front of him. You're trying to cut ties with me?" "Bradly! What the hell are you babbling about?" Anger surged through her as she pushed harder. "Don't you dare pin your gross history on me!" The way the family had orbited Milford like he was the sun had obviously gotten under his skin. The more she resisted, the darker his look grew. Abruptly, he leaned in and smashed his mouth against hers. Stella's eyes flew wide, her head whipping aside to evade as she hammered at his shoulders with everything she had. He'd locked lips with Shanna god knows how often. The thought turned her stomach, so she clamped down and bit him hard. Bradly yelped in pain, jerking back as the fog cleared and he clocked what he'd just done, regret flashing across his face. Blood dotted his lip, but he brushed it off, lunging to wrap her in his arms. "I'm sorry, Stella, baby, I'm so sorry. I screwed up; it was a stupid impulse..." Drained of energy, Stella sagged into the passenger seat, letting him hold her while a barren wave of emptiness and revulsion washed over her. The hug she'd once melted into now repulsed her to her core. "Get off me." Her voice came out rough and scratchy. "Bradly, don't push me to hating you."
Chapter 1 Don't Want Him Anymore "I'm sorry, ma'am." On the other end of the line, the insurance customer service rep said coolly, "After checking our records, the car owner, Mr. Woodard, is indeed married, but the spouse listed here isn't you." Stella Daniels had gotten into a car accident on her way to the Woodard Group headquarters. She couldn't get through to Bradly Woodard on his phone, so she had no choice but to call the insurance company. The car was registered in Bradly's name, but as his wife, she should be able to process the claim too. "When Mr. Woodard picked up the car, he came with his wife and provided the original marriage license. Her last name is Erickson, and her full name is Shanna Erickson," the rep said. It hit Stella like a slap in the face. Dizziness washed over her in waves, leaving her whole body shaking uncontrollably. She and Bradly had been childhood sweethearts. Their families were old friends, and everyone in Ostralver's high society knew how clingy he was with her. Bradly couldn't stand being apart from her even for a single day. Three years ago, when Stella headed abroad for her studies, Bradly had the plane stopped just for her. During her three years in Ensland, he expanded his business overseas to make it easier to look after her. Sixteen thousand miles apart, he'd still fly across the ocean every week to see her. The year she came down with a severe lung illness and nearly didn't pull through, she spent a week in intensive care. Bradly ignored the infection risks and stayed right by her side, sliding a ring onto her finger. He said, "If anything happens to you, I'll go with you. We'll be husband and wife in the next life too." For Bradly's sake, she turned down her mentor's offer to stay on in the lab and headed back home. Brimming with excitement, she went to find him, planning to surprise him. But when she pushed open the door to the CEO's office, she saw a slender, pretty woman straddling his lap. The woman's innocent face tilted upward, her voice whiny and aggrieved. "Mr. Woodard, what happens to me now that Stella is back?" Bradly sat in his executive chair, his tall frame looming over her. A flash of ruthlessness crossed his stern features. "You? You're just her stand-in. Don't forget your place." He lifted his hand, pinching her delicate chin with a sneer. "Barely a three-out-of-ten resemblance, and you think you can compare to her?" Stella was still clutching the gift she'd prepared for him. With a loud "bang," it dropped to the floor, finally breaking the scene in the office. Bradly's face drained of color as he shoved the woman off and jumped to his feet. That woman was Shanna. After Stella caught them in the act, Bradly fired Shanna on the spot and pulled out all the stops to win her back. Bradly, the arrogant prince of Ostralver's elite circles, humbled himself to the dust before her, begging her to give him another chance. Any project she set her sights on, he'd drop without a second thought. He stood in the pouring rain outside her building for over a week, just for a glimpse of her. He said, "Stella, I'm not asking you to forgive me. At least let me explain. "I only ever saw Shanna as your replacement. You've been gone abroad for so long; I missed you terribly. I swear, I just kept her around. Nothing more ever happened between us. "That time you walked in, I'd had too much to drink, and she deliberately tempted me. I lost control for a moment... "I've already let her go, and she won't show up in our lives again. Stella, please, come back to me." Back then, Stella couldn't stand even the slightest betrayal. She insisted on breaking off the engagement. Until that one incident. She was kidnapped by a business rival. The kidnappers reneged on the deal, tied her up in an abandoned factory, and set the place ablaze. Bradly charged into the flames without a second thought to rescue her, shielding her from a collapsing steel beam. He ended up gravely injured, confined to bed for nearly six months. By risking his life, Bradly finally melted her resolve. Once he was out of the hospital, she accepted his proposal, and they threw a lavish wedding. In the two years since they tied the knot, he'd treated her just as devotedly as ever, with zero scandals. He even imposed a strict curfew on himself, heading home right on time every day. Even on out-of-town business trips, he'd video call her constantly. His partners would tease him about being henpecked. He never denied it. Instead, he'd grin proudly and say, "A real man takes care of his family." Memories rushed through Stella's mind like a whirlwind, every past moment flashing by in a blur. Her legs buckled, and she dropped to her knees, burying her face in her hands. She couldn't figure out which Bradly was the real one anymore. A bitter, mocking gleam sparked in her eyes. She thought, 'How absurd.' She'd been his wife for two years, and only now was she learning that even their marriage license had been a sham. Stella scrubbed her face hard, her bangs already soaked with cold sweat. She ignored the other driver's furious yelling and calmly dialed the police. They showed up fast. After finishing her statement, Stella left the station under a sky that had gone completely dark. Her phone lit up with several missed calls from Bradly. When she hadn't answered, he'd sent texts instead. Bradly: [Babe, I was tied up in a key meeting this afternoon. Signal jammers were on, so I missed your call. You okay?] Bradly: [I've got a client dinner tonight, so I'll be late getting home. I double-checked: no women involved, so no need to worry.] Bradly: [Head to bed early. Don't wait up. Love you.] Stella stared at the screen, a sharp wave of irony twisting in her gut. Bradly didn't stagger in until the wee hours. He reeked of alcohol, which almost, but not quite, masked the subtle whiff of perfume on him. "Honey..." He could barely keep his balance, stumbling over to wrap his arms around her through the blanket. "I missed you so damn much..." Stella didn't say a word. Only once he was dead to the world did she sit up quietly and unlock his phone with his fingerprint. The thing was squeaky clean, no suspicious traces at all. His contacts were mostly buddies and business folks, with hers pinned at the top as "Darling Wife." Flawlessly tidy, just like their sham of a marriage. Stella hooked the phone up to her computer, and it didn't take long to uncover his second WhatsApp account. She signed in, and right away, messages popped up from a profile with a cute pink kitten avatar, labeled "Baby." Shanna: [Bradly, thanks for tonight. Without you, I wouldn't have known what to do.] Shanna: [I've always thought meeting you was the luckiest thing that's ever happened to me. I won't intrude on your life. As long as you swing by to see me once in a while, that's enough to make me happy.] Stella scrolled back through the history. She'd suspected as much, but seeing it all laid out still hit her like a punch to the chest, leaving her breathless. They chatted nearly every day. Shanna never missed a good morning message, and Bradly's replies had shifted over time, from total silence at first, to sporadic responses, and now to answering every single one. A chill spread through her. Stella clutched the phone tighter, knowing she should quit while she was ahead but unable to stop herself from digging deeper. Shanna: [Bradly, sorry, I had a few drinks and lost it for a bit. Doc says I'm okay now, so don't stress.] Shanna: [Mrs. Woodard's birthday bash is important. Go enjoy it with her. I'll be fine.] Stella squeezed her eyes shut as the memory came rushing back. Her birthday. Bradly had spent over a month planning it down to the last detail, but that day, he was totally distracted. Hell, he almost cut his own hand while slicing the cake. When she'd asked what was up, he'd brushed it off as work drama, told her not to worry, then pulled her into a soft embrace and encouraged her to blow out the candles and make a wish. It all made sense now, as she stared at this chat log. That same day, Shanna had tried to kill herself by slashing her wrists and ended up in the ER. A sour bitterness flooded her chest like a rising tide. In those brief seconds when she'd closed her eyes to wish, she wondered, 'Was he agonizing over Shanna in the hospital, or picturing endless years together with her?' Stella knew she didn't need an answer to that anymore. She gently placed the phone back and looked down at Bradly, fast asleep beside her. She'd known him since she was four, and for the twenty years that followed, she'd truly believed his love was hers alone, irreplaceable. But now she saw it for what it was: just cheap free samples at a store, handed out to anyone who walked by. If that was all it amounted to, she was done with it. Chapter 2 Bid Against Her The next day, Stella woke to find Bradly busy in the kitchen, his broad shoulders narrowing to a slim waist, his tall, lean build moving with purpose. The sight hit her hard, a dull ache tightening in her chest. Bradly had learned to cook entirely for her sake. She still remembered that turbulent period when the Woodard Group was in crisis. His rivals had targeted her, paying off a servant to poison her food. She'd been unconscious for three full days. When she finally woke, Bradly was there, his eyes red-rimmed and veined with exhaustion, gripping her hand like a lifeline. The instant she stirred, the imposing Bradly crumbled forward, enveloping her in a hug as scalding tears fell onto her skin. From then on, Bradly threw himself into cooking lessons, taking charge of all her meals. In less than a month, he'd gone from a spoiled elite who couldn't distinguish spices to turning out dishes worthy of a Michelin chef. Just then, his phone rang. Stella glanced at it but made no move to answer. Bradly darted out of the kitchen, apron still on, grabbing the phone with a barely concealed flash of anxiety. Stella pretended not to notice and went to wash up. When she came back, the table was set with breakfast, and he was slipping into his suit jacket from the coat rack. Seeing her, he said gently, "There's an emergency at work. I have to run. Sorry I can't join you for breakfast." Stella murmured, "Sure, work comes first." He was clearly in a hurry, because he didn't pick up on the new edge of cool distance in her tone and rushed out. She stared blankly after him until he was gone, then dumped the entire spread into the trash. Then she picked up her phone and dialed a number. "That offer you made before? I'm on board." The person on the other end erupted in delight, chattering away before shifting to broken Andosa Language. "Stella, why the sudden change of heart? I've bugged you about this so many times, and you always said you were married now and focusing on family." A mocking glint flickered in Stella's eyes. She thought, 'Married? This so-called marriage has been dead on arrival.' The caller was her former mentor from her overseas studies. He'd reached out lately, hoping she'd join his new team and spearhead a major project. At the time, she'd kept saying no out of loyalty to Bradly. Now, she only wished she'd seen through the absurd joke of their marriage earlier. After the call, she contacted immigration to schedule a passport renewal. It would take about a week. But before heading out, she had one loose end to tie up. That evening, Stella showed up at a private auction at the Cloud Hotel. She was after one of her mother's keepsakes. Her mom had died when she was eight, and soon after, the Daniels family had liquidated her wedding gift. Stella had been hunting down the items ever since. Over the years, she'd only reclaimed a few. Tonight's auction featured a bracelet from that collection, one her mother had picked up on a trip to Ijance. It was utterly unique, irreplaceable. Whatever it took, she was getting it back. Stella settled into her seat just as the auction was about to start. She was flipping through the catalog when Bradly's voice floated over. "Didn't I already pick out that royal blue sapphire set for you? Not good enough?" His voice carried that familiar tenderness. Shanna linked her arm with his, pouting playfully. "Your taste sucks! I want to pick my own birthday gift." Stella watched them quietly until Bradly threaded through the guests and their gazes collided by chance. The color drained from his face. On pure reflex, he jerked his arm away from Shanna. "Stella." He strode over quickly. "I tried calling you a few times, but you didn't answer. Were you planning to surprise me?" Even though he tried to play it cool, she could still catch that subtle hint of panic in his expression. Stella didn't bother calling him on it, replying evenly, "My phone was on silent. I didn't hear it." Bradly visibly relaxed, casually taking her hand in his with a look of concern. "Your hands are like ice. Didn't I warn you about the cold snap today? You're always putting style over staying warm. If you catch a chill, you know it'll just kill me." As he talked, he signaled a server for a blanket and draped it snugly around her shoulders. Stella kept a straight face, brushing him off as she looked past him to Shanna, who lingered behind with a scowl. Shanna nibbled her lip, then defiantly dropped into the seat next to Bradly, her gaze simmering with irritation. Bradly leaned closer, dropping his voice to explain, "We just wrapped up a major project at the company, and Shanna pulled her weight big time. Her birthday's around the corner, so I thought I'd treat her to something as a project bonus." He eyed her anxiously. "Stella, you're not mad, right?" Shanna piped up in a soft, vulnerable tone. "Mrs. Woodard, if this upsets you, I'll just go. I don't want to get in the way of you and Mr. Woodard." Stella's mouth quirked into a smile that never touched her eyes. "We're married. A little thing like this? Of course it doesn't bother me." The auction got underway shortly after. Bradly treated Shanna like she was invisible, focusing entirely on Stella. He paged through the catalog, throwing in bids left and right. "Babe, this would look amazing on you." He grinned, tenderly brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his tone warm and intimate. "You'd be gorgeous in it." Stella averted her eyes, but out of the corner of her vision, she saw Shanna discreetly clutching the edge of Bradly's jacket in the dim light. Their gazes locked for a split second in a shared, lingering look. She masked the derision in her own eyes, struck by how absurd it all was. Bradly seemed totally at ease juggling both women, convinced he was keeping things balanced, one with the official status, the other with his undivided public attention. She thought, 'What could be fairer than that?' But Stella had never been interested in that kind of equilibrium. Her world extended far beyond romance. Bradly? He was just a small detour on her path, a misstep she'd own up to. And now, it was time to set things right. "Next up: a string of bracelet. Fine-grained texture, deep aroma that lingers. Starting bid at 170,000 dollars, with increments of at least 20,000 dollars!" The auctioneer's pumped-up voice echoed through the room. Finally, Stella's main target for the evening. Bids flew in fast, the screen flickering with updates as the auctioneer called out, "Number 17 lady at 200,000 dollars! Number 9 gentleman ups it to 260,000 dollars! Going higher?" Once the initial frenzy tapered off, Stella lifted her paddle. "500,000 dollars." She'd doubled the current bid in one go. It was a hefty amount. Sure, the bracelet was top-notch, but it wasn't the auction's highlight. The room went quiet after her call; no one countered. "Fantastic! Number 11 lady at 500,000 dollars! "500,000 dollars once! 500,000 dollars twice!" The auctioneer hoisted his gavel, poised to bring it down. "No more bids? Then 500,000 dollars—" "520,000 dollars," A gentle, hesitant voice interrupted. Shanna shrank against Bradly's side, paddle in hand, murmuring timidly to him, "Is this where I put in the amount?" Chapter 3 You're Dirty Stella frowned and raised her bid. "540,000 dollars." But Shanna was right behind her, countering with, "560,000 dollars." How annoyingly precise, each time, she stuck to the bare minimum, slapping on just 20,000 dollars more than Stella's offer. Shanna turned toward her, her voice dripping with plea. "Stella, you've got plenty of jewelry already. Please, let me have this one. I adore it. "I'm not like you, born with money, everything handed to you on a silver platter. You snap your fingers and get whatever you want. If it goes any higher, I really won't be able to keep up." Stella didn't bother looking at her, just quirking her lips in a thin smile. "Isn't Mr. Woodard covering the cost for you? What are you stressing about?" Shanna's face went a shade paler, but she answered in that soft, demure tone, "Even so, Mr. Woodard earns his money the hard way. If I can save him a bit, I ought to." She was the epitome of considerate and caring. After several more back-and-forth bids, the bracelet's price had soared to 700,000 dollars. Stella let out a chilly scoff and was opening her mouth to up the ante when Bradly beat her to it. He said, "Babe, why don't we just let Shanna take this bracelet?" Stella's fingers curled into a tight fist, her nails biting into her palm. She lifted her gaze, any lingering warmth in her eyes turning to ice. "What did you just say?" Bradly let out a resigned sigh, giving her hand a comforting pat as he murmured gently, "Babe, I already told Shanna she'd get a gift tonight, and she's got her heart set on this one. No need to compete with her. "Plus, I've already snagged you a handful of other pieces. Isn't that plenty?" He said it all lightly, teasingly, as if it were nothing more than a harmless quip. Stella shut her eyes, a nameless sourness creeping along her nerves, coiling around her heart until it felt like she couldn't draw a breath. Given Shanna's modest background, 700,000 dollars was way out of her league. She wouldn't even make the guest list here on her own. The only reason she was in that seat, trading bids blow for blow, was Bradly's backing. His pampering had delivered her straight into Stella's path. Stella whispered, "What if I refuse to back down?" She hoisted her paddle once more, her voice echoing through the room. "1 million dollars." A hush blanketed the hall. The auctioneer clearly picked up on the drama, his delivery faltering. "Number eleven at 1 million dollars. Do I hear higher?" Shanna's eyes welled up, on the verge of tears, as she cast a helpless look at Bradly before tacking on another fifty thousand. "1 million 20 thousand dollars." Stella's features hardened to frost, and she was poised to fire back when the manager bustled over, bending close to murmur, "Mrs. Woodard, apologies. We ran a credit verification on your account, and it's frozen. Got another one we can use?" The words slammed into her like a bolt from the blue, ringing in her ears. She snapped her head toward Bradly, but he'd already looked away. An icy numbness spread through her arms and legs. She though,t 'Of course, it has to be him.' Her primary account was linked with his; besides her, only he could authorize a freeze on her cards. Triumph flickered in Shanna's eyes as she added with a pointed edge, "Well, in that case, Mrs. Woodard, maybe it's time to step aside. You've got so much already. Can't you let me have this one little thing?" Up on stage, the auction rolled on, the display frozen on Shanna's latest bid: 1 million 20 thousand dollars. Shanna could hardly hide her glee, chirping sweetly, "Go on, call it!" But the words had barely left her lips when someone announced he would bid for the lot at any costs right in the second-floor VIP suite. After a momentary silence, the room burst into chaos. "He's declared absolute intent!" Even the auctioneer's expression changed. He'd been in the game for over a decade, but this was his first encounter with such a scenario. He hurriedly called out, "Lot number six goes to the gentleman in box 217, regardless of how high the price goes." Anyone up in those second-floor VIP suites was either swimming in money or held serious sway in Ostralver's upper crust. Stella glanced upward toward the source of the voice, catching only a vague outline behind the draped curtains. Even when she couldn't see his face, the man's crossed-legged posture radiated an unspoken dominance that pressed down on the room. The auctioneer slammed his gavel down with finality, proclaiming, "Congratulations to our esteemed guest in box 217 on winning lot number six! You're now upgraded to black gold status!" Across all of Ostralver's elite scene, fewer than a handful had ever hit black gold level at these events. Stella wondered, 'Just who is this mystery man?' Stella loosened her clenched fist slightly, torn between relief that her mother's heirloom hadn't landed in Shanna's clutches and anxiety over reclaiming it from this unknown figure. No matter what, she'd stop at nothing, pay any price, to bring her mother's possession home. She rose to her feet, intent on marching over to box 217 for a chat, when the attendant who'd just ducked inside reappeared, tray in hand with the bracelet. "What's this? The bidder in 217 having second thoughts?" "Auctions don't do take-backs." "Probably short on funds. I called it. No one's done this here before." As the murmurs swirled, the attendant headed straight for Stella, dipping into a courteous bow with a warm smile. She said, "Mrs. Woodard, the gentleman in box 217 requests that I deliver the bracelet to you as a gift. He wishes for you to follow your true path and for all to unfold as it should." The place erupted in gossip once more, with guests shooting glances her way, some envious, others skeptical, many flat-out stunned. "Isn't that Mrs. Woodard? What's her deal with the upstairs guy?" "Likely just buttering up Mr. Woodard." "Nah, I don't buy it. Out of all the goodies tonight, why zero in on those beads for Mrs. Woodard? Sounds like she's got a real connection there." The buzz filtered through, and Bradly's face turned stone-cold. In a tight, edged voice, he demanded, "Stella, what's the story with you and whoever's in box 217?" Stella held his piercing stare and said flatly, "I have no idea who he is." "!" Bradly jumped up, clamping down on her wrist like a vice. Her soft, fair skin reddened almost instantly under the pressure. Stella winced sharply, jerking her arm back on reflex. "Bradly, have you lost your mind? Haven't you stirred up enough drama for one day?" But he barreled on, blind to her fury, his reddened eyes locked on her as if he could swallow her up. "What's really between you two? "Stella, through all our married years, I've bent over backward for you. Anything you desired, I served it up without question. Why would you betray me like this?" In his mind, it was already a done deal: she was entangled in something shady with the man above. If the guy was angling for a favor from him, Bradly would've recognized him right away. People in Ostralver didn't beat around the bush when they needed something from him. They came direct. The jab landed raw and direct. Bradly blinked, frozen for a beat as a flicker of alarm shot through his eyes. Chapter 4 Don't Know You'd Come Bradly said, "I'm sorry, Stella. I didn't mean it like that. I had no right getting jealous over you and some stranger. It's all on me." Bradly's eyes reddened. "But honestly, there's nothing going on between Shanna and me. I just brought her along as a thank-you. Can you let this slide?" Seeing his cue, Shanna ducked her head meekly, her voice catching. "That's right, Mrs. Woodard. I've been bending over backward to keep my distance from Mr. Woodard so you wouldn't get the wrong impression. "I'm not asking for the world, just a decent birthday gift. I didn't grow up with your advantages; you've had everything handed to you and even snagged a catch like Mr. Woodard. Can't I at least pick out something for myself?" "Just a gift, huh?" Stella closed in on her, one step at a time. "Ms. Erickson, I've never given a damn about this 'gift' you're going on about. What gets under my skin is you, a Woodard Group employee, crossing lines you have no business crossing." As they drew closer, Bradly instinctively stepped in front of Shanna, his voice soft and coaxing. "Stella, if it's bugging you this much, I'll transfer her to a branch office once the auction's over. "But for now, cut me some slack. Let Shanna have the bracelet. When we get home, name your price on anything, and it's yours." Shanna bobbed her head in agreement, tears glistening on her lashes as she pleaded, "Stella, I really adore this bracelet. You've got it all already. Why go after the one thing I want? "Or is this just because you hate my guts and can't resist taking shots at me?" "What makes you think I'd ever like you?" Stella let out a cold snort. "This belonged to me from the start. Why the hell would I give it up?" She took the bracelet from the attendant with casual ease, her smile sharp but empty. "Ms. Erickson, know your place." Her refusal to budge finally wore through Bradly's patience, erasing every bit of softness from his face. "Stella, do you have to humiliate me like this in front of everyone? Where does that leave my dignity? "It's just a crappy old bracelet. Am I really worth less to you than some trinket?" He said it with such conviction, as if he'd wiped from his memory the solemn vow he'd made when proposing: that he'd hunt down every single one of her mother's sold-off keepsakes, no matter what. Stella's hand flew up, delivering a resounding slap across his cheek. The sharp crack rang out, pulling shocked stares from every corner of the room. Bradly's head snapped sideways, his face livid as he fixed her with a glare, his words hissing through clenched teeth. "Stella, drop the drama already. Have I pampered you too much these days, turning you into this unreasonable nightmare?" Stella reined in her temper, keeping her tone even. "Bradly, you better not live to regret today." Without another word, she turned and walked out, not sparing a backward glance. As her figure receded, Shanna gently touched the angry red mark on Bradly's cheek, her voice full of worry. "Mr. Woodard, are you okay? "Stella's got no boundaries. How could she hit you with all these people watching?" Bradly swatted her hand aside, his nails digging into his palm as he stared after her retreating path. "I've spoiled her rotten, letting her forget that everything she has comes from me." Shanna peeked at his changing expression, testing the waters. "Mr. Woodard, about the bracelet..." Bradly rubbed his throbbing cheek, pulled a bank card from his pocket, and handed it over. "1.7 million dollars on there. Buy whatever catches your eye." Box 217, Stella rapped on the door, eager to thank the mystery bidder face-to-face. Silence. She caught a server walking by. "Excuse me, any idea where the gentleman from this box headed?" "He slipped out right after nabbing the last item," the server said. Disappointment flashed in her eyes, but Stella pressed on, "Do you know who he was?" The server gave her a regretful smile. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard, we're not allowed to spill on our VIPs. Don't make this harder for us." Catching herself, Stella moved out of the way. "Thanks all the same." By the time she made it home from the auction, an hour had ticked by. Stella went straight up to the study, fired up the computer, and dove into the assets registered under her and Bradly's names. After tallying up the numbers, she snatched her phone, found lawyer Rubin Cobb's contact, and hit dial. She said, "I've sorted out the asset division documents for me and Bradly and sent them over. I need you to handle the property split by tomorrow." Rubin quickly received the files and nodded respectfully. "Of course, Mrs. Woodard. I'll get right on it." Stella stared intently at her computer screen, her grip tightening on the mouse. "If Bradly's committed bigamy, how should our assets be divided?" "Generally, any property the bigamous party gained through the bigamy can be claimed back by the other spouse," Rubin replied matter-of-factly. Half of Bradly's current wealth had come from Stella's investments to support his career early on. Her expression darkened, and she promptly forwarded the marriage license between him and Shanna. "Rubin, please use every legal avenue to recover my half of the assets." After hanging up, Stella slumped back in her chair, utterly drained physically and emotionally. She closed her eyes slowly, but sleep was nowhere in sight. Bradly would never agree to a divorce. Until she had everything locked down, she couldn't let on that anything was amiss. Just then, the study door was kicked open from the outside. Bradly flung his jacket onto the desk and yanked Stella up from her seat in front of the computer. "Do you realize that because of your little outburst, I've become a laughingstock in our circles? "What exactly do you want? Are you still obsessing over what happened back then?" Stella opened her eyes slowly, her gaze settling calmly on Bradly, but she remained silent. A fire raged in Bradly's chest, intensifying by the second, and he couldn't hold back his fury any longer. "Since we got married, have I ever done anything to wrong you? I come home right on time every night after work, I always fill you in on any business dinners, and if there's even a hint of a woman involved, I skip them entirely! I've bent over backward, and it's still not good enough for you?" He remembered every detail crystal clear. In his mind, these were the sacrifices he'd made to marry her. Stella suddenly found the whole thing absurd. She couldn't bear to look at him anymore, so she stood up and walked straight out of the study without a backward glance. Behind her, Bradly's voice echoed heavily. "Stella, no matter what you think, my conscience is clear." It felt like Stella's heart had been shattered into icy fragments, a sharp, bitter pain surging through her. Her mind buzzed, and for a moment, all she could hear was that phrase repeating over and over. She thought, 'My conscience is clear? So, in his eyes, everything he's done is perfectly justifiable.' The next morning, when Stella woke up, Bradly was already gone. On the table sat the breakfast he'd prepared, tailored exactly to her tastes. Stella pressed her lips together, her feelings a complicated tangle. They'd ended things on a sour note last night, yet Bradly had still made her breakfast this morning. But this was the same man who'd lied to her for years. No matter what, it was time to end things with Bradly. She didn't touch the food and headed straight to the office. These past few years, she'd stayed out of Bradly's business dealings. A lot of her old financial records were outdated now, and she needed the latest reports. The secretary looked startled when she saw her, then managed to say, "Mrs. Woodard, are you here to see Mr. Woodard?" "No." Stella replied evenly. "Send the finance manager in to see me." Her shares were second only to Bradly's, giving her full access to every aspect of the company. The secretary hesitated briefly before nodding. Stella noticed her immediately turning to make a phone call, probably alerting Bradly. Stella didn't intervene; let her. She settled into the finance office, sipping her coffee absentmindedly while flipping through magazines on the shelf. Most were glossy entertainment rags, mixed in with novels and comics. Stella frowned, only now picking up on the details: the desk was covered in a pink plaid mat, cluttered with adorable plush toys. The standout pair was a set of couple dolls, their outfits emblazoned with the letters W and E. It hit Stella suddenly what that meant, and just then, the door behind her swung open. Shanna rushed in. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard." She was clutching a cup of coffee as she apologized. "I had no idea you'd drop by like this..." Chapter 5 All For Milford Stella arched an eyebrow as she looked her over. "So you're the finance manager?" Shanna nodded with a quick smile. "That's me. If you need anything at all, just say the word. Bradly, well, Mr. Woodard is tied up in a meeting right now. But don't worry, I'll make sure to relay whatever message you have." Stella let out a soft laugh. "No need for that." She regarded Shanna with clear curiosity. "I'm not looking for Bradly. I'm here to see you." Shanna's smile faltered for a moment before she recovered, her tone turning gentle. "Mrs. Woodard, I get that you're still bothered by what went down at the auction last night, but there's no reason to be so worked up about my connection to Mr. Woodard. After all..." She raised her hand, the elegant diamond ring on her finger glinting under the light, perfectly complementing her bashful grin. "I'm already married, and things are great between me and my husband." Stella's eyes locked on the ring, her breath hitching just for an instant. It was ridiculous. In this whole messed-up situation, she was the one playing the role of the mistress. The ring was an exact match for the one Bradly had given her during his proposal. But within seconds, Stella averted her gaze. "It's a lovely ring, but you're mistaken." She spoke unhurriedly, "I'm just here to grab the latest financial report from you. That's all." Stella caught the sour shift in Shanna's expression and smiled to herself. "Seems like you're the one on edge here, Ms. Erickson." Shanna's face transformed completely, that smug spark in her eyes snuffed out. She bit her lip, unable to find words for a long beat. Stella watched her with unruffled poise. "Do I need to repeat my request, Ms. Erickson?" The words had barely left her mouth when Bradly burst in, his expression clouding over at the sight. "Stella, wasn't the scene from last night enough?" His voice was laced with ice. "How long are you planning to drag this out? I've told you already. There's nothing going on between me and Shanna. If you don't believe me..." Stella interrupted him mid-sentence, "Oh, I believe you. Absolutely." A faint smirk tugged at her lips, though her eyes remained frosty as they settled on Shanna. "After all, Ms. Erickson's already married. She just mentioned it herself." The statement landed like a bomb. Shanna's face drained of color, and Bradly's followed suit. He shot her a withering glare. Tears sprang to Shanna's eyes in an instant. Stella had no interest in watching the drama unfold any further. She said evenly, "I'm here for this year's financials. I hold forty percent of the company. Surely I can access that, right?" Bradly seemed to snap back to reality, nodding hastily. "Of course you can." He barked orders at the secretary to fetch it immediately, all the while stealing wary glances at her face. Once he confirmed she wasn't giving anything away, he exhaled almost imperceptibly in relief. He said, "Stella, what's with the sudden interest? You've never bothered with company matters before." Stella answered coolly, "After the account freeze last night, I decided it's smarter to set up a separate one." Bradly's expression froze again. "Stella..." The secretary returned promptly with the report. Stella brushed Bradly aside, skimmed through it quickly, and was heading for the door when he caught her by the wrist. He said, "Stella, about the family dinner tonight, are you coming home with me?" His tone was pleading, like he needed her answer to reassure himself that she hadn't caught on to anything fishy. Stella didn't look back, just replying calmly, "Sure." Bradly's face lit up. "Great, I'll swing by after work to pick you up." Stella dropped her gaze, masking the cool detachment in her eyes. She'd only agreed to head back to the family estate for one specific reason. The marriage license from when she and Bradly had tied the knot was a phony, but he'd made a whole production out of stashing it away at the house, claiming it had to be kept secure. Nothing could serve as stronger proof. Once she got her hands on it, his bigamy would be ironclad. Stella didn't bother waiting for Bradly; she hailed a cab and got there ahead of time. She'd figured it was just a standard family gathering, but she was caught off guard by the full turnout. Bradly's parents, fresh from their overseas vacation last week, were back, and even the distant relatives from the Woodard family's side branches had shown up en masse. "Stella, dear." As she walked in, Nadine Woodard peered over her shoulder. "Bradly didn't come with you?" Stella answered evenly, "He'll be along shortly." Nadine clicked her tongue, her irritation obvious. "On an important occasion like this, letting someone from outside the family arrive solo, what's got into him?" Stella's brow furrowed just a touch. She and Bradly had been engaged since childhood, but after her mother's passing, the Daniels family's status had tanked while the Woodard family kept climbing. That was when Nadine started pushing to scrap the arrangement, and she'd mentioned it more than a few times. But Chuck Woodard was upright and principled, flat-out refusing to play the social-climbing game. With Bradly dead set on marrying her and no one else, Nadine had reluctantly given in, though she made her resentment clear. Even after the marriage, she never passed up an opportunity to give Stella the cold shoulder. She was about to add something else when the butler rushed in and murmured, "He's here." Nadine promptly dropped the subject with Stella and jumped to her feet, the extended family hustling out right behind her to welcome the arrivals. The level of pomp surprised Stella. The Woodard family was already at the top of Ostralver's social elite. For them to pull out all the stops like this... Standing at the edge of the group, Stella glanced up and saw a black Maybach rolling up to the front of the estate. Someone hurried forward to open the door respectfully, and a tall, imposing figure stepped out unhurriedly. The man wore a sleek black suit, his chiseled features sharp, eyes as midnight, radiating a fierce intensity. Every gesture exuded a natural poise and authority that made it tough to hold his stare. The crowd swarmed forward in a rush, but he stayed cool and detached the whole time, his stunningly handsome face as impassive as carved ice, showing zero emotion. Then, as if picking up on something, he looked up toward Stella. Their eyes locked unexpectedly, sending her heart pounding. It was Milford Woodard, Bradly's brother. He'd returned to the country. Though they were brothers in name, Milford wasn't all that tight with the family. He'd headed overseas young and had spent years growing the business abroad. His father Edward Woodard was a total lightweight, good only at spending cash, not earning it. His grandpa Chuck had the smarts and drive, but age was catching up, leaving him unable to manage it all. Real power over the Woodard family had shifted to Milford ages ago. Stella let out a quiet breath. She thought, 'That explains the big crowd today. They've all turned out for Milford.' Chapter 6 Need Help? Stella lingered in the corner of the living room, watching the relatives descend like a swarm of locusts, all scrambling to surround Milford. Bradly stood next to Nadine, flashing a polished smile as he greeted, "Hey, Milford." The uncles who'd been buttering up Bradly just a minute ago quickly switched gears, beaming with over-the-top enthusiasm as they stepped up to say hello. "Milford, what prompted the sudden return?" "Milford, I hear you're in the middle of acquiring a domestic company? You're just getting more impressive by the day." "Come on inside, take a seat. We've got some top-shelf coffee." Bradly caught the stark contrast in the uncles' warmth, his smile fading briefly before he pulled it together and led the way forward. Stella quietly eyed the tall, strikingly handsome Milford striding into the living room like the star of the show, instinctively edging back a step. Now fully pushed to the fringes of the crowd, she shifted aside to let the trailing group pass, doing everything she could to blend into the wallpaper. Milford approached steadily. Unlike Bradly's flashy, outgoing vibe, he had a more brooding, aloof kind of handsomeness, like a pine tree blanketed in snow, regal and intimidating. He acknowledged the flattery around him with simple nods, his eyes scanning the room casually, subtly taking stock of everyone there. Until his gaze swept over Stella again, and he came to an abrupt halt. He paused, causing Bradly to stop too. "Something wrong, Milford?" Milford didn't respond, his steady gaze fixed on Stella. It was only a look, but it jolted her to her core. She felt an odd sense of being claimed, uninvited. Yet she'd barely crossed paths with Milford before. Bradly and the others traced his stare, his eyebrow quirking up. "Stella, come say hi to Big Milford." Stella started to step forward, but Milford beat her to it, walking straight toward her. Bradly and the rest exchanged surprised glances. So far, everyone had been approaching Milford. He hadn't initiated with a soul. Milford's deep eyes gave nothing away. "Stella?" Her breath hitched, like a faint breeze had brushed her ear. She hadn't anticipated him coming over to chat. It had been years, and they'd only met once or twice, but he still remembered her. Stella nodded. "Milford, it's been ages—" Before she could finish, Milford held out his hand. The move was so casual, so natural. Out of pure reflex and politeness, Stella extended hers, their palms connecting. In that brief clasp, she felt him squeeze gently, his thumb settling on her fingers and grazing them with a warm intensity. Milford released after just a second. Suddenly, Bradly sidled up, drawing Stella into his side with an arm around her waist, lacing his fingers through her left hand. He said, "Milford, how long are you in town this time? Stella and I can take you out to dinner one of these days." Milford took in their cozy pose, his glance dropping to their intertwined hands. "About a month." The words had barely left his mouth when Chuck came down the stairs, leaning on the butler for support. Milford headed over to talk with him. Not long after, the kitchen called that the party was ready. Stella trailed Bradly to their seats on the left side of the main table. Everyone filed in and sat. As the eldest branch, the two Woodard brothers took priority. Chuck claimed the head of the main table, with Nadine and Milford next in line. Stella and Bradly fell further down the order, landing her right across from Milford on the diagonal. The family feast got underway, with everyone firing questions at Milford about what he'd been up to lately. Stella kept her head down, nibbling at her food while catching bits of the conversation. Zrester bigwig, major stakeholder in Wonder Group, founder of that financial exchange and the smart transportation AI... Milford's credentials were endless and mind-blowing. She thought back to that Zrester party invite list she'd snagged years ago. Milford was third from the top, while she languished at the bottom. In all these years, she'd had next to no interaction with him. Right after the wedding, this mysterious Milford had only shown up once. He dropped off a gift and vanished. In just a handful of years, Milford had climbed to the pinnacle of Zrester's power players. His talent was obvious. Before long, the family party wound down, and folks scattered to grab desserts. Still hung up on that marriage license, Stella excused herself to head upstairs for a coat change. Bradly was itching to chat with Milford, his gaze fixed that way as he muttered distractedly, "Yeah, go on up." Stella wasted no time hustling upstairs. With the crowd milling about downstairs, she slipped to the third floor of the villa and nudged open Bradly's bedroom door. There it was: the glaring marriage license perched right on top of the nightstand, framed, flanked by their wedding portrait. As she stepped closer, memories of Bradly's cozy moments with Shanna flooded her brain, her nails digging slowly into her palm. That license seared her eyes, like it was sneering at her gullibility. She never should've caved, never should've handed Bradly a second shot. It just went to show that people's hearts circled back for seconds. Disgust flickered in her eyes as she hauled the desk's computer chair over, the kind with wheels and a swivel, shaky at best. She climbed onto it, planting one foot on the bed for stability, teetering just enough to hold steady. Stella hiked up her pearl-white knee-length dress a bit and stretched upward slowly. Fingers extended to the max, but she was still a couple inches shy. She rose onto her tiptoes, straining, but no dice. Frowning from her perch, she scanned around and snagged a book from beside the cabinet. As she leaned down, footsteps suddenly echoed outside the door. Fast, but measured. A man's, for sure. Her pulse spiked. She clutched the table, scrambling to hop down, but, perfect timing, her other sleeve caught on the cabinet's edge. She tugged frantically to break free, but it was too late to descend. The door flew open out of nowhere. Stella went rigid, her knees giving way as she toppled backward off the chair. A quick yelp escaped her, but the expected crash never hit. A firm hand latched precisely onto her thigh, another banding around her waist, hauling her into a solid hold and planting her feet firmly on the floor. She slammed into a warm, toned chest, a crisp, grounding sandalwood aroma enveloping her, not Bradly's scent. Stella glanced up, nearly clipping the guy's chin. Milford let go right away, backing off a step to give her space. Her cheeks burned, the thigh he'd gripped feeling like it was on fire. Mortified and frozen, she stammered, "Th-thanks." Milford stayed composed, his eyes skimming her flushed face and the pinkened patch of skin on her thigh from his hold. His Adam's apple dipped subtly. "Didn't realize you were in here. My bad." Stella shook her head, even more flustered. She was the one imposing on him. Milford flicked a glance upward. "Need some help?" She looked too. Up top, the marriage license screamed for attention. Chapter 7 Don't Let Me Hate You Stella just came out with it. "I want to get the marriage license down." Milford hesitated for a beat, without probing why she needed it, and slid the chair out of the way. Tall and long-limbed, he barely had to tip up on his toes to snag it effortlessly. Milford skimmed the lettering on the license, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes before the faintest quirk tugged at his lips, almost undetectable. He passed it over to Stella. "Ah, I see." She missed the words, taking it with a soft murmur: "Thanks, Milford." Her palms were slick with sweat now, but holding the certificate still sent an icy shiver through her. Those bold letters were a brutal reminder. This whole marriage had been one big joke. From beginning to end, Bradly's grand performance of undying love had always had a third wheel in the shadows. Milford dropped his gaze. Towering over her, all he could make out was the neat swirl at the top of her head, round and oddly appealing. Those slim, pale hands gripped the certificate like a vise, completely bloodless. Milford asked offhandedly, "So, what's the marriage license for?" "Oh, I just want to bring it home and store it there," Stella shot back, pulling an excuse out of thin air. Milford's stare felt like it enveloped her, the heat of it almost scorching, though he kept his hands to himself. Then he casually adjusted his cufflinks and turned to go. Stella let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, sagging against the cool cabinet. Her thigh still tingled with warmth from his grip; she quickly smoothed her skirt down, tucked the license into her bag, and only left the room once everything looked undisturbed. Bradly was still out in the back garden, deep in conversation. Stella kept her face neutral, strolling over to stand at his side. A few relatives were chatting with him. "Hey, word is Milford actually got back a couple days ago, but only tipped us off today." Bradly looked taken aback. "I thought he was flying in today?" "Nope, sounds like he hit up some auction. I only heard bits and pieces, supposedly the other night at the Empire Auction House." "He must not have gone. I was there that evening too, and I didn't see him anywhere," Bradly said, frowning in confusion. Stella's eyelashes flickered subtly, but she played it cool. Out of nowhere, her mind jumped back to that enigmatic bidder in suite 217. She wondered, 'Could Milford be the mystery guest who got the bracelet for me?' She shoved the thought down as soon as it surfaced. They'd only crossed paths once, total strangers really, connected by the flimsiest in-law tie. No matter how you sliced it, Milford wouldn't stick his neck out for her. Just like Bradly said, he hadn't caught wind of anything, so it couldn't be Milford. Stella let it go. After some more mingling, the group started to break up. Bradly steered her over to bid farewell to Milford. "Mom, Milford, we're taking off. Let's set up a family dinner soon when things settle." Milford slouched back in his chair with effortless nonchalance and gave a nod. "I'm knee-deep in an acquisition, no hurry on the get-together. But you..." He lifted his head, his expression sharpening. "Keep your life on the straight and narrow. Don't veer off track." The edge of warning in his voice was crystal clear. Bradly had grown up overshadowed by Milford; he went rigid but brushed it off casually. "Come on, everything's good. My company's running smooth as ever. If you're skeptical, drop by anytime and pore over the financials—knock yourself out." "It's not just about the company," Milford said softly, eyes down as he savored a sip of coffee. Stella couldn't help stealing a glance at him, and in that instant, a ridiculous idea struck her. From what Bradly had mentioned, Milford was abroad most of the time but still had the inside scoop on everything back home. She wondered, 'Does he know about the shady stuff Bradly is up to on the sly?' "Milford, I hear you. I'll make sure to nurture my marriage with Stella, our whole life together." Bradly grinned, threading his fingers through Stella's. Milford's gaze lingered on their joined hands for a second before drifting away, sealed with a subtle nod. Stella had no desire for any more close contact with Bradly, so she subtly shook his hand free without thinking. A split second later, his disbelieving stare locked onto her face, and he tried to grab her again. She'd known her move would humiliate him in the moment, so she didn't bother saying goodbye to Milford. She just turned and walked out ahead. Once they slid into the car, Bradly shed his polite, deferential mask from earlier, reverting to his entitled rich-kid swagger. He tugged his tie loose, a flicker of annoyance pinching his brows. "Always playing the big-brother card to chew me out, same crap since we were little. "So what if he's crushing it overseas? I'm holding my own just fine back home. Who in Ostralver would even think about messing with me?" Bradly fished out a menthol cigarette on autopilot, ready to light up, but he caught himself after glancing at Stella and shoved it back. He said, "All these years, folks have been whispering, or saying it straight to my face, that my company's thriving because of his pull. Like he's behind every damn thing. "And you? You flat-out refused to let me hold your hand back there. Trying to make me look like an idiot in front of him?" His expression iced over, the edge in his voice impossible to miss. Stella's frown deepened as she took it in. Even without knowing Milford all that well, she understood that Bradly's cocky antics in Ostralver, brushing people off like they were nothing, had always been propped up by Milford's clout. She'd assumed the brothers were tight, but clearly Bradly's respect was just for show; underneath, his grudge against Milford simmered deep. She could overlook a lot, but with things the way they were now, there was zero point in him putting on that phony hand-holding act. Stella gripped her bag, the one with the marriage license inside, and couldn't bite her tongue. "We haven't held hands in forever. It feels off to me." The car went dead quiet. She was right. Their physical closeness had dwindled so much that even she couldn't pinpoint the last time. Bradly's brow creased, and he snapped the cigarette filter clean off between his fingers. "What was that?" Stella met his eyes steadily. "From here on out, let's skip the pointless touchy-feely stuff. It just doesn't sit right." She hadn't even finished when the brakes screeched harshly. The car lurched to a halt on the empty shoulder of the road. Stella almost smacked into the window from the force, her pulse hammering as she barked, "Are you out of your mind?" Bradly loomed over her, fingers digging into her chin, irritation boiling in his glare. "Stella, do you have any idea what you're saying?" The pinch stung like crazy, and the absurdity of it all hit her as she wrestled to shove him off. "Is it not true? When's the last time we even held hands. Can you remember?" Bradly's gaze turned stormy, like she'd struck a raw spot. "I bet you're hung up on Milford, just like that girl from the second branch. That's why you pulled away in front of him. You're trying to cut ties with me?" "Bradly! What the hell are you babbling about?" Anger surged through her as she pushed harder. "Don't you dare pin your gross history on me!" The way the family had orbited Milford like he was the sun had obviously gotten under his skin. The more she resisted, the darker his look grew. Abruptly, he leaned in and smashed his mouth against hers. Stella's eyes flew wide, her head whipping aside to evade as she hammered at his shoulders with everything she had. He'd locked lips with Shanna god knows how often. The thought turned her stomach, so she clamped down and bit him hard. Bradly yelped in pain, jerking back as the fog cleared and he clocked what he'd just done, regret flashing across his face. Blood dotted his lip, but he brushed it off, lunging to wrap her in his arms. "I'm sorry, Stella, baby, I'm so sorry. I screwed up; it was a stupid impulse..." Drained of energy, Stella sagged into the passenger seat, letting him hold her while a barren wave of emptiness and revulsion washed over her. The hug she'd once melted into now repulsed her to her core. "Get off me." Her voice came out rough and scratchy. "Bradly, don't push me to hating you."
Chapter 1 Don't Want Him Anymore "I'm sorry, ma'am." On the other end of the line, the insurance customer service rep said coolly, "After checking our records, the car owner, Mr. Woodard, is indeed married, but the spouse listed here isn't you." Stella Daniels had gotten into a car accident on her way to the Woodard Group headquarters. She couldn't get through to Bradly Woodard on his phone, so she had no choice but to call the insurance company. The car was registered in Bradly's name, but as his wife, she should be able to process the claim too. "When Mr. Woodard picked up the car, he came with his wife and provided the original marriage license. Her last name is Erickson, and her full name is Shanna Erickson," the rep said. It hit Stella like a slap in the face. Dizziness washed over her in waves, leaving her whole body shaking uncontrollably. She and Bradly had been childhood sweethearts. Their families were old friends, and everyone in Ostralver's high society knew how clingy he was with her. Bradly couldn't stand being apart from her even for a single day. Three years ago, when Stella headed abroad for her studies, Bradly had the plane stopped just for her. During her three years in Ensland, he expanded his business overseas to make it easier to look after her. Sixteen thousand miles apart, he'd still fly across the ocean every week to see her. The year she came down with a severe lung illness and nearly didn't pull through, she spent a week in intensive care. Bradly ignored the infection risks and stayed right by her side, sliding a ring onto her finger. He said, "If anything happens to you, I'll go with you. We'll be husband and wife in the next life too." For Bradly's sake, she turned down her mentor's offer to stay on in the lab and headed back home. Brimming with excitement, she went to find him, planning to surprise him. But when she pushed open the door to the CEO's office, she saw a slender, pretty woman straddling his lap. The woman's innocent face tilted upward, her voice whiny and aggrieved. "Mr. Woodard, what happens to me now that Stella is back?" Bradly sat in his executive chair, his tall frame looming over her. A flash of ruthlessness crossed his stern features. "You? You're just her stand-in. Don't forget your place." He lifted his hand, pinching her delicate chin with a sneer. "Barely a three-out-of-ten resemblance, and you think you can compare to her?" Stella was still clutching the gift she'd prepared for him. With a loud "bang," it dropped to the floor, finally breaking the scene in the office. Bradly's face drained of color as he shoved the woman off and jumped to his feet. That woman was Shanna. After Stella caught them in the act, Bradly fired Shanna on the spot and pulled out all the stops to win her back. Bradly, the arrogant prince of Ostralver's elite circles, humbled himself to the dust before her, begging her to give him another chance. Any project she set her sights on, he'd drop without a second thought. He stood in the pouring rain outside her building for over a week, just for a glimpse of her. He said, "Stella, I'm not asking you to forgive me. At least let me explain. "I only ever saw Shanna as your replacement. You've been gone abroad for so long; I missed you terribly. I swear, I just kept her around. Nothing more ever happened between us. "That time you walked in, I'd had too much to drink, and she deliberately tempted me. I lost control for a moment... "I've already let her go, and she won't show up in our lives again. Stella, please, come back to me." Back then, Stella couldn't stand even the slightest betrayal. She insisted on breaking off the engagement. Until that one incident. She was kidnapped by a business rival. The kidnappers reneged on the deal, tied her up in an abandoned factory, and set the place ablaze. Bradly charged into the flames without a second thought to rescue her, shielding her from a collapsing steel beam. He ended up gravely injured, confined to bed for nearly six months. By risking his life, Bradly finally melted her resolve. Once he was out of the hospital, she accepted his proposal, and they threw a lavish wedding. In the two years since they tied the knot, he'd treated her just as devotedly as ever, with zero scandals. He even imposed a strict curfew on himself, heading home right on time every day. Even on out-of-town business trips, he'd video call her constantly. His partners would tease him about being henpecked. He never denied it. Instead, he'd grin proudly and say, "A real man takes care of his family." Memories rushed through Stella's mind like a whirlwind, every past moment flashing by in a blur. Her legs buckled, and she dropped to her knees, burying her face in her hands. She couldn't figure out which Bradly was the real one anymore. A bitter, mocking gleam sparked in her eyes. She thought, 'How absurd.' She'd been his wife for two years, and only now was she learning that even their marriage license had been a sham. Stella scrubbed her face hard, her bangs already soaked with cold sweat. She ignored the other driver's furious yelling and calmly dialed the police. They showed up fast. After finishing her statement, Stella left the station under a sky that had gone completely dark. Her phone lit up with several missed calls from Bradly. When she hadn't answered, he'd sent texts instead. Bradly: [Babe, I was tied up in a key meeting this afternoon. Signal jammers were on, so I missed your call. You okay?] Bradly: [I've got a client dinner tonight, so I'll be late getting home. I double-checked: no women involved, so no need to worry.] Bradly: [Head to bed early. Don't wait up. Love you.] Stella stared at the screen, a sharp wave of irony twisting in her gut. Bradly didn't stagger in until the wee hours. He reeked of alcohol, which almost, but not quite, masked the subtle whiff of perfume on him. "Honey..." He could barely keep his balance, stumbling over to wrap his arms around her through the blanket. "I missed you so damn much..." Stella didn't say a word. Only once he was dead to the world did she sit up quietly and unlock his phone with his fingerprint. The thing was squeaky clean, no suspicious traces at all. His contacts were mostly buddies and business folks, with hers pinned at the top as "Darling Wife." Flawlessly tidy, just like their sham of a marriage. Stella hooked the phone up to her computer, and it didn't take long to uncover his second WhatsApp account. She signed in, and right away, messages popped up from a profile with a cute pink kitten avatar, labeled "Baby." Shanna: [Bradly, thanks for tonight. Without you, I wouldn't have known what to do.] Shanna: [I've always thought meeting you was the luckiest thing that's ever happened to me. I won't intrude on your life. As long as you swing by to see me once in a while, that's enough to make me happy.] Stella scrolled back through the history. She'd suspected as much, but seeing it all laid out still hit her like a punch to the chest, leaving her breathless. They chatted nearly every day. Shanna never missed a good morning message, and Bradly's replies had shifted over time, from total silence at first, to sporadic responses, and now to answering every single one. A chill spread through her. Stella clutched the phone tighter, knowing she should quit while she was ahead but unable to stop herself from digging deeper. Shanna: [Bradly, sorry, I had a few drinks and lost it for a bit. Doc says I'm okay now, so don't stress.] Shanna: [Mrs. Woodard's birthday bash is important. Go enjoy it with her. I'll be fine.] Stella squeezed her eyes shut as the memory came rushing back. Her birthday. Bradly had spent over a month planning it down to the last detail, but that day, he was totally distracted. Hell, he almost cut his own hand while slicing the cake. When she'd asked what was up, he'd brushed it off as work drama, told her not to worry, then pulled her into a soft embrace and encouraged her to blow out the candles and make a wish. It all made sense now, as she stared at this chat log. That same day, Shanna had tried to kill herself by slashing her wrists and ended up in the ER. A sour bitterness flooded her chest like a rising tide. In those brief seconds when she'd closed her eyes to wish, she wondered, 'Was he agonizing over Shanna in the hospital, or picturing endless years together with her?' Stella knew she didn't need an answer to that anymore. She gently placed the phone back and looked down at Bradly, fast asleep beside her. She'd known him since she was four, and for the twenty years that followed, she'd truly believed his love was hers alone, irreplaceable. But now she saw it for what it was: just cheap free samples at a store, handed out to anyone who walked by. If that was all it amounted to, she was done with it. Chapter 2 Bid Against Her The next day, Stella woke to find Bradly busy in the kitchen, his broad shoulders narrowing to a slim waist, his tall, lean build moving with purpose. The sight hit her hard, a dull ache tightening in her chest. Bradly had learned to cook entirely for her sake. She still remembered that turbulent period when the Woodard Group was in crisis. His rivals had targeted her, paying off a servant to poison her food. She'd been unconscious for three full days. When she finally woke, Bradly was there, his eyes red-rimmed and veined with exhaustion, gripping her hand like a lifeline. The instant she stirred, the imposing Bradly crumbled forward, enveloping her in a hug as scalding tears fell onto her skin. From then on, Bradly threw himself into cooking lessons, taking charge of all her meals. In less than a month, he'd gone from a spoiled elite who couldn't distinguish spices to turning out dishes worthy of a Michelin chef. Just then, his phone rang. Stella glanced at it but made no move to answer. Bradly darted out of the kitchen, apron still on, grabbing the phone with a barely concealed flash of anxiety. Stella pretended not to notice and went to wash up. When she came back, the table was set with breakfast, and he was slipping into his suit jacket from the coat rack. Seeing her, he said gently, "There's an emergency at work. I have to run. Sorry I can't join you for breakfast." Stella murmured, "Sure, work comes first." He was clearly in a hurry, because he didn't pick up on the new edge of cool distance in her tone and rushed out. She stared blankly after him until he was gone, then dumped the entire spread into the trash. Then she picked up her phone and dialed a number. "That offer you made before? I'm on board." The person on the other end erupted in delight, chattering away before shifting to broken Andosa Language. "Stella, why the sudden change of heart? I've bugged you about this so many times, and you always said you were married now and focusing on family." A mocking glint flickered in Stella's eyes. She thought, 'Married? This so-called marriage has been dead on arrival.' The caller was her former mentor from her overseas studies. He'd reached out lately, hoping she'd join his new team and spearhead a major project. At the time, she'd kept saying no out of loyalty to Bradly. Now, she only wished she'd seen through the absurd joke of their marriage earlier. After the call, she contacted immigration to schedule a passport renewal. It would take about a week. But before heading out, she had one loose end to tie up. That evening, Stella showed up at a private auction at the Cloud Hotel. She was after one of her mother's keepsakes. Her mom had died when she was eight, and soon after, the Daniels family had liquidated her wedding gift. Stella had been hunting down the items ever since. Over the years, she'd only reclaimed a few. Tonight's auction featured a bracelet from that collection, one her mother had picked up on a trip to Ijance. It was utterly unique, irreplaceable. Whatever it took, she was getting it back. Stella settled into her seat just as the auction was about to start. She was flipping through the catalog when Bradly's voice floated over. "Didn't I already pick out that royal blue sapphire set for you? Not good enough?" His voice carried that familiar tenderness. Shanna linked her arm with his, pouting playfully. "Your taste sucks! I want to pick my own birthday gift." Stella watched them quietly until Bradly threaded through the guests and their gazes collided by chance. The color drained from his face. On pure reflex, he jerked his arm away from Shanna. "Stella." He strode over quickly. "I tried calling you a few times, but you didn't answer. Were you planning to surprise me?" Even though he tried to play it cool, she could still catch that subtle hint of panic in his expression. Stella didn't bother calling him on it, replying evenly, "My phone was on silent. I didn't hear it." Bradly visibly relaxed, casually taking her hand in his with a look of concern. "Your hands are like ice. Didn't I warn you about the cold snap today? You're always putting style over staying warm. If you catch a chill, you know it'll just kill me." As he talked, he signaled a server for a blanket and draped it snugly around her shoulders. Stella kept a straight face, brushing him off as she looked past him to Shanna, who lingered behind with a scowl. Shanna nibbled her lip, then defiantly dropped into the seat next to Bradly, her gaze simmering with irritation. Bradly leaned closer, dropping his voice to explain, "We just wrapped up a major project at the company, and Shanna pulled her weight big time. Her birthday's around the corner, so I thought I'd treat her to something as a project bonus." He eyed her anxiously. "Stella, you're not mad, right?" Shanna piped up in a soft, vulnerable tone. "Mrs. Woodard, if this upsets you, I'll just go. I don't want to get in the way of you and Mr. Woodard." Stella's mouth quirked into a smile that never touched her eyes. "We're married. A little thing like this? Of course it doesn't bother me." The auction got underway shortly after. Bradly treated Shanna like she was invisible, focusing entirely on Stella. He paged through the catalog, throwing in bids left and right. "Babe, this would look amazing on you." He grinned, tenderly brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his tone warm and intimate. "You'd be gorgeous in it." Stella averted her eyes, but out of the corner of her vision, she saw Shanna discreetly clutching the edge of Bradly's jacket in the dim light. Their gazes locked for a split second in a shared, lingering look. She masked the derision in her own eyes, struck by how absurd it all was. Bradly seemed totally at ease juggling both women, convinced he was keeping things balanced, one with the official status, the other with his undivided public attention. She thought, 'What could be fairer than that?' But Stella had never been interested in that kind of equilibrium. Her world extended far beyond romance. Bradly? He was just a small detour on her path, a misstep she'd own up to. And now, it was time to set things right. "Next up: a string of bracelet. Fine-grained texture, deep aroma that lingers. Starting bid at 170,000 dollars, with increments of at least 20,000 dollars!" The auctioneer's pumped-up voice echoed through the room. Finally, Stella's main target for the evening. Bids flew in fast, the screen flickering with updates as the auctioneer called out, "Number 17 lady at 200,000 dollars! Number 9 gentleman ups it to 260,000 dollars! Going higher?" Once the initial frenzy tapered off, Stella lifted her paddle. "500,000 dollars." She'd doubled the current bid in one go. It was a hefty amount. Sure, the bracelet was top-notch, but it wasn't the auction's highlight. The room went quiet after her call; no one countered. "Fantastic! Number 11 lady at 500,000 dollars! "500,000 dollars once! 500,000 dollars twice!" The auctioneer hoisted his gavel, poised to bring it down. "No more bids? Then 500,000 dollars—" "520,000 dollars," A gentle, hesitant voice interrupted. Shanna shrank against Bradly's side, paddle in hand, murmuring timidly to him, "Is this where I put in the amount?" Chapter 3 You're Dirty Stella frowned and raised her bid. "540,000 dollars." But Shanna was right behind her, countering with, "560,000 dollars." How annoyingly precise, each time, she stuck to the bare minimum, slapping on just 20,000 dollars more than Stella's offer. Shanna turned toward her, her voice dripping with plea. "Stella, you've got plenty of jewelry already. Please, let me have this one. I adore it. "I'm not like you, born with money, everything handed to you on a silver platter. You snap your fingers and get whatever you want. If it goes any higher, I really won't be able to keep up." Stella didn't bother looking at her, just quirking her lips in a thin smile. "Isn't Mr. Woodard covering the cost for you? What are you stressing about?" Shanna's face went a shade paler, but she answered in that soft, demure tone, "Even so, Mr. Woodard earns his money the hard way. If I can save him a bit, I ought to." She was the epitome of considerate and caring. After several more back-and-forth bids, the bracelet's price had soared to 700,000 dollars. Stella let out a chilly scoff and was opening her mouth to up the ante when Bradly beat her to it. He said, "Babe, why don't we just let Shanna take this bracelet?" Stella's fingers curled into a tight fist, her nails biting into her palm. She lifted her gaze, any lingering warmth in her eyes turning to ice. "What did you just say?" Bradly let out a resigned sigh, giving her hand a comforting pat as he murmured gently, "Babe, I already told Shanna she'd get a gift tonight, and she's got her heart set on this one. No need to compete with her. "Plus, I've already snagged you a handful of other pieces. Isn't that plenty?" He said it all lightly, teasingly, as if it were nothing more than a harmless quip. Stella shut her eyes, a nameless sourness creeping along her nerves, coiling around her heart until it felt like she couldn't draw a breath. Given Shanna's modest background, 700,000 dollars was way out of her league. She wouldn't even make the guest list here on her own. The only reason she was in that seat, trading bids blow for blow, was Bradly's backing. His pampering had delivered her straight into Stella's path. Stella whispered, "What if I refuse to back down?" She hoisted her paddle once more, her voice echoing through the room. "1 million dollars." A hush blanketed the hall. The auctioneer clearly picked up on the drama, his delivery faltering. "Number eleven at 1 million dollars. Do I hear higher?" Shanna's eyes welled up, on the verge of tears, as she cast a helpless look at Bradly before tacking on another fifty thousand. "1 million 20 thousand dollars." Stella's features hardened to frost, and she was poised to fire back when the manager bustled over, bending close to murmur, "Mrs. Woodard, apologies. We ran a credit verification on your account, and it's frozen. Got another one we can use?" The words slammed into her like a bolt from the blue, ringing in her ears. She snapped her head toward Bradly, but he'd already looked away. An icy numbness spread through her arms and legs. She though,t 'Of course, it has to be him.' Her primary account was linked with his; besides her, only he could authorize a freeze on her cards. Triumph flickered in Shanna's eyes as she added with a pointed edge, "Well, in that case, Mrs. Woodard, maybe it's time to step aside. You've got so much already. Can't you let me have this one little thing?" Up on stage, the auction rolled on, the display frozen on Shanna's latest bid: 1 million 20 thousand dollars. Shanna could hardly hide her glee, chirping sweetly, "Go on, call it!" But the words had barely left her lips when someone announced he would bid for the lot at any costs right in the second-floor VIP suite. After a momentary silence, the room burst into chaos. "He's declared absolute intent!" Even the auctioneer's expression changed. He'd been in the game for over a decade, but this was his first encounter with such a scenario. He hurriedly called out, "Lot number six goes to the gentleman in box 217, regardless of how high the price goes." Anyone up in those second-floor VIP suites was either swimming in money or held serious sway in Ostralver's upper crust. Stella glanced upward toward the source of the voice, catching only a vague outline behind the draped curtains. Even when she couldn't see his face, the man's crossed-legged posture radiated an unspoken dominance that pressed down on the room. The auctioneer slammed his gavel down with finality, proclaiming, "Congratulations to our esteemed guest in box 217 on winning lot number six! You're now upgraded to black gold status!" Across all of Ostralver's elite scene, fewer than a handful had ever hit black gold level at these events. Stella wondered, 'Just who is this mystery man?' Stella loosened her clenched fist slightly, torn between relief that her mother's heirloom hadn't landed in Shanna's clutches and anxiety over reclaiming it from this unknown figure. No matter what, she'd stop at nothing, pay any price, to bring her mother's possession home. She rose to her feet, intent on marching over to box 217 for a chat, when the attendant who'd just ducked inside reappeared, tray in hand with the bracelet. "What's this? The bidder in 217 having second thoughts?" "Auctions don't do take-backs." "Probably short on funds. I called it. No one's done this here before." As the murmurs swirled, the attendant headed straight for Stella, dipping into a courteous bow with a warm smile. She said, "Mrs. Woodard, the gentleman in box 217 requests that I deliver the bracelet to you as a gift. He wishes for you to follow your true path and for all to unfold as it should." The place erupted in gossip once more, with guests shooting glances her way, some envious, others skeptical, many flat-out stunned. "Isn't that Mrs. Woodard? What's her deal with the upstairs guy?" "Likely just buttering up Mr. Woodard." "Nah, I don't buy it. Out of all the goodies tonight, why zero in on those beads for Mrs. Woodard? Sounds like she's got a real connection there." The buzz filtered through, and Bradly's face turned stone-cold. In a tight, edged voice, he demanded, "Stella, what's the story with you and whoever's in box 217?" Stella held his piercing stare and said flatly, "I have no idea who he is." "!" Bradly jumped up, clamping down on her wrist like a vice. Her soft, fair skin reddened almost instantly under the pressure. Stella winced sharply, jerking her arm back on reflex. "Bradly, have you lost your mind? Haven't you stirred up enough drama for one day?" But he barreled on, blind to her fury, his reddened eyes locked on her as if he could swallow her up. "What's really between you two? "Stella, through all our married years, I've bent over backward for you. Anything you desired, I served it up without question. Why would you betray me like this?" In his mind, it was already a done deal: she was entangled in something shady with the man above. If the guy was angling for a favor from him, Bradly would've recognized him right away. People in Ostralver didn't beat around the bush when they needed something from him. They came direct. The jab landed raw and direct. Bradly blinked, frozen for a beat as a flicker of alarm shot through his eyes. Chapter 4 Don't Know You'd Come Bradly said, "I'm sorry, Stella. I didn't mean it like that. I had no right getting jealous over you and some stranger. It's all on me." Bradly's eyes reddened. "But honestly, there's nothing going on between Shanna and me. I just brought her along as a thank-you. Can you let this slide?" Seeing his cue, Shanna ducked her head meekly, her voice catching. "That's right, Mrs. Woodard. I've been bending over backward to keep my distance from Mr. Woodard so you wouldn't get the wrong impression. "I'm not asking for the world, just a decent birthday gift. I didn't grow up with your advantages; you've had everything handed to you and even snagged a catch like Mr. Woodard. Can't I at least pick out something for myself?" "Just a gift, huh?" Stella closed in on her, one step at a time. "Ms. Erickson, I've never given a damn about this 'gift' you're going on about. What gets under my skin is you, a Woodard Group employee, crossing lines you have no business crossing." As they drew closer, Bradly instinctively stepped in front of Shanna, his voice soft and coaxing. "Stella, if it's bugging you this much, I'll transfer her to a branch office once the auction's over. "But for now, cut me some slack. Let Shanna have the bracelet. When we get home, name your price on anything, and it's yours." Shanna bobbed her head in agreement, tears glistening on her lashes as she pleaded, "Stella, I really adore this bracelet. You've got it all already. Why go after the one thing I want? "Or is this just because you hate my guts and can't resist taking shots at me?" "What makes you think I'd ever like you?" Stella let out a cold snort. "This belonged to me from the start. Why the hell would I give it up?" She took the bracelet from the attendant with casual ease, her smile sharp but empty. "Ms. Erickson, know your place." Her refusal to budge finally wore through Bradly's patience, erasing every bit of softness from his face. "Stella, do you have to humiliate me like this in front of everyone? Where does that leave my dignity? "It's just a crappy old bracelet. Am I really worth less to you than some trinket?" He said it with such conviction, as if he'd wiped from his memory the solemn vow he'd made when proposing: that he'd hunt down every single one of her mother's sold-off keepsakes, no matter what. Stella's hand flew up, delivering a resounding slap across his cheek. The sharp crack rang out, pulling shocked stares from every corner of the room. Bradly's head snapped sideways, his face livid as he fixed her with a glare, his words hissing through clenched teeth. "Stella, drop the drama already. Have I pampered you too much these days, turning you into this unreasonable nightmare?" Stella reined in her temper, keeping her tone even. "Bradly, you better not live to regret today." Without another word, she turned and walked out, not sparing a backward glance. As her figure receded, Shanna gently touched the angry red mark on Bradly's cheek, her voice full of worry. "Mr. Woodard, are you okay? "Stella's got no boundaries. How could she hit you with all these people watching?" Bradly swatted her hand aside, his nails digging into his palm as he stared after her retreating path. "I've spoiled her rotten, letting her forget that everything she has comes from me." Shanna peeked at his changing expression, testing the waters. "Mr. Woodard, about the bracelet..." Bradly rubbed his throbbing cheek, pulled a bank card from his pocket, and handed it over. "1.7 million dollars on there. Buy whatever catches your eye." Box 217, Stella rapped on the door, eager to thank the mystery bidder face-to-face. Silence. She caught a server walking by. "Excuse me, any idea where the gentleman from this box headed?" "He slipped out right after nabbing the last item," the server said. Disappointment flashed in her eyes, but Stella pressed on, "Do you know who he was?" The server gave her a regretful smile. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard, we're not allowed to spill on our VIPs. Don't make this harder for us." Catching herself, Stella moved out of the way. "Thanks all the same." By the time she made it home from the auction, an hour had ticked by. Stella went straight up to the study, fired up the computer, and dove into the assets registered under her and Bradly's names. After tallying up the numbers, she snatched her phone, found lawyer Rubin Cobb's contact, and hit dial. She said, "I've sorted out the asset division documents for me and Bradly and sent them over. I need you to handle the property split by tomorrow." Rubin quickly received the files and nodded respectfully. "Of course, Mrs. Woodard. I'll get right on it." Stella stared intently at her computer screen, her grip tightening on the mouse. "If Bradly's committed bigamy, how should our assets be divided?" "Generally, any property the bigamous party gained through the bigamy can be claimed back by the other spouse," Rubin replied matter-of-factly. Half of Bradly's current wealth had come from Stella's investments to support his career early on. Her expression darkened, and she promptly forwarded the marriage license between him and Shanna. "Rubin, please use every legal avenue to recover my half of the assets." After hanging up, Stella slumped back in her chair, utterly drained physically and emotionally. She closed her eyes slowly, but sleep was nowhere in sight. Bradly would never agree to a divorce. Until she had everything locked down, she couldn't let on that anything was amiss. Just then, the study door was kicked open from the outside. Bradly flung his jacket onto the desk and yanked Stella up from her seat in front of the computer. "Do you realize that because of your little outburst, I've become a laughingstock in our circles? "What exactly do you want? Are you still obsessing over what happened back then?" Stella opened her eyes slowly, her gaze settling calmly on Bradly, but she remained silent. A fire raged in Bradly's chest, intensifying by the second, and he couldn't hold back his fury any longer. "Since we got married, have I ever done anything to wrong you? I come home right on time every night after work, I always fill you in on any business dinners, and if there's even a hint of a woman involved, I skip them entirely! I've bent over backward, and it's still not good enough for you?" He remembered every detail crystal clear. In his mind, these were the sacrifices he'd made to marry her. Stella suddenly found the whole thing absurd. She couldn't bear to look at him anymore, so she stood up and walked straight out of the study without a backward glance. Behind her, Bradly's voice echoed heavily. "Stella, no matter what you think, my conscience is clear." It felt like Stella's heart had been shattered into icy fragments, a sharp, bitter pain surging through her. Her mind buzzed, and for a moment, all she could hear was that phrase repeating over and over. She thought, 'My conscience is clear? So, in his eyes, everything he's done is perfectly justifiable.' The next morning, when Stella woke up, Bradly was already gone. On the table sat the breakfast he'd prepared, tailored exactly to her tastes. Stella pressed her lips together, her feelings a complicated tangle. They'd ended things on a sour note last night, yet Bradly had still made her breakfast this morning. But this was the same man who'd lied to her for years. No matter what, it was time to end things with Bradly. She didn't touch the food and headed straight to the office. These past few years, she'd stayed out of Bradly's business dealings. A lot of her old financial records were outdated now, and she needed the latest reports. The secretary looked startled when she saw her, then managed to say, "Mrs. Woodard, are you here to see Mr. Woodard?" "No." Stella replied evenly. "Send the finance manager in to see me." Her shares were second only to Bradly's, giving her full access to every aspect of the company. The secretary hesitated briefly before nodding. Stella noticed her immediately turning to make a phone call, probably alerting Bradly. Stella didn't intervene; let her. She settled into the finance office, sipping her coffee absentmindedly while flipping through magazines on the shelf. Most were glossy entertainment rags, mixed in with novels and comics. Stella frowned, only now picking up on the details: the desk was covered in a pink plaid mat, cluttered with adorable plush toys. The standout pair was a set of couple dolls, their outfits emblazoned with the letters W and E. It hit Stella suddenly what that meant, and just then, the door behind her swung open. Shanna rushed in. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard." She was clutching a cup of coffee as she apologized. "I had no idea you'd drop by like this..." Chapter 5 All For Milford Stella arched an eyebrow as she looked her over. "So you're the finance manager?" Shanna nodded with a quick smile. "That's me. If you need anything at all, just say the word. Bradly, well, Mr. Woodard is tied up in a meeting right now. But don't worry, I'll make sure to relay whatever message you have." Stella let out a soft laugh. "No need for that." She regarded Shanna with clear curiosity. "I'm not looking for Bradly. I'm here to see you." Shanna's smile faltered for a moment before she recovered, her tone turning gentle. "Mrs. Woodard, I get that you're still bothered by what went down at the auction last night, but there's no reason to be so worked up about my connection to Mr. Woodard. After all..." She raised her hand, the elegant diamond ring on her finger glinting under the light, perfectly complementing her bashful grin. "I'm already married, and things are great between me and my husband." Stella's eyes locked on the ring, her breath hitching just for an instant. It was ridiculous. In this whole messed-up situation, she was the one playing the role of the mistress. The ring was an exact match for the one Bradly had given her during his proposal. But within seconds, Stella averted her gaze. "It's a lovely ring, but you're mistaken." She spoke unhurriedly, "I'm just here to grab the latest financial report from you. That's all." Stella caught the sour shift in Shanna's expression and smiled to herself. "Seems like you're the one on edge here, Ms. Erickson." Shanna's face transformed completely, that smug spark in her eyes snuffed out. She bit her lip, unable to find words for a long beat. Stella watched her with unruffled poise. "Do I need to repeat my request, Ms. Erickson?" The words had barely left her mouth when Bradly burst in, his expression clouding over at the sight. "Stella, wasn't the scene from last night enough?" His voice was laced with ice. "How long are you planning to drag this out? I've told you already. There's nothing going on between me and Shanna. If you don't believe me..." Stella interrupted him mid-sentence, "Oh, I believe you. Absolutely." A faint smirk tugged at her lips, though her eyes remained frosty as they settled on Shanna. "After all, Ms. Erickson's already married. She just mentioned it herself." The statement landed like a bomb. Shanna's face drained of color, and Bradly's followed suit. He shot her a withering glare. Tears sprang to Shanna's eyes in an instant. Stella had no interest in watching the drama unfold any further. She said evenly, "I'm here for this year's financials. I hold forty percent of the company. Surely I can access that, right?" Bradly seemed to snap back to reality, nodding hastily. "Of course you can." He barked orders at the secretary to fetch it immediately, all the while stealing wary glances at her face. Once he confirmed she wasn't giving anything away, he exhaled almost imperceptibly in relief. He said, "Stella, what's with the sudden interest? You've never bothered with company matters before." Stella answered coolly, "After the account freeze last night, I decided it's smarter to set up a separate one." Bradly's expression froze again. "Stella..." The secretary returned promptly with the report. Stella brushed Bradly aside, skimmed through it quickly, and was heading for the door when he caught her by the wrist. He said, "Stella, about the family dinner tonight, are you coming home with me?" His tone was pleading, like he needed her answer to reassure himself that she hadn't caught on to anything fishy. Stella didn't look back, just replying calmly, "Sure." Bradly's face lit up. "Great, I'll swing by after work to pick you up." Stella dropped her gaze, masking the cool detachment in her eyes. She'd only agreed to head back to the family estate for one specific reason. The marriage license from when she and Bradly had tied the knot was a phony, but he'd made a whole production out of stashing it away at the house, claiming it had to be kept secure. Nothing could serve as stronger proof. Once she got her hands on it, his bigamy would be ironclad. Stella didn't bother waiting for Bradly; she hailed a cab and got there ahead of time. She'd figured it was just a standard family gathering, but she was caught off guard by the full turnout. Bradly's parents, fresh from their overseas vacation last week, were back, and even the distant relatives from the Woodard family's side branches had shown up en masse. "Stella, dear." As she walked in, Nadine Woodard peered over her shoulder. "Bradly didn't come with you?" Stella answered evenly, "He'll be along shortly." Nadine clicked her tongue, her irritation obvious. "On an important occasion like this, letting someone from outside the family arrive solo, what's got into him?" Stella's brow furrowed just a touch. She and Bradly had been engaged since childhood, but after her mother's passing, the Daniels family's status had tanked while the Woodard family kept climbing. That was when Nadine started pushing to scrap the arrangement, and she'd mentioned it more than a few times. But Chuck Woodard was upright and principled, flat-out refusing to play the social-climbing game. With Bradly dead set on marrying her and no one else, Nadine had reluctantly given in, though she made her resentment clear. Even after the marriage, she never passed up an opportunity to give Stella the cold shoulder. She was about to add something else when the butler rushed in and murmured, "He's here." Nadine promptly dropped the subject with Stella and jumped to her feet, the extended family hustling out right behind her to welcome the arrivals. The level of pomp surprised Stella. The Woodard family was already at the top of Ostralver's social elite. For them to pull out all the stops like this... Standing at the edge of the group, Stella glanced up and saw a black Maybach rolling up to the front of the estate. Someone hurried forward to open the door respectfully, and a tall, imposing figure stepped out unhurriedly. The man wore a sleek black suit, his chiseled features sharp, eyes as midnight, radiating a fierce intensity. Every gesture exuded a natural poise and authority that made it tough to hold his stare. The crowd swarmed forward in a rush, but he stayed cool and detached the whole time, his stunningly handsome face as impassive as carved ice, showing zero emotion. Then, as if picking up on something, he looked up toward Stella. Their eyes locked unexpectedly, sending her heart pounding. It was Milford Woodard, Bradly's brother. He'd returned to the country. Though they were brothers in name, Milford wasn't all that tight with the family. He'd headed overseas young and had spent years growing the business abroad. His father Edward Woodard was a total lightweight, good only at spending cash, not earning it. His grandpa Chuck had the smarts and drive, but age was catching up, leaving him unable to manage it all. Real power over the Woodard family had shifted to Milford ages ago. Stella let out a quiet breath. She thought, 'That explains the big crowd today. They've all turned out for Milford.' Chapter 6 Need Help? Stella lingered in the corner of the living room, watching the relatives descend like a swarm of locusts, all scrambling to surround Milford. Bradly stood next to Nadine, flashing a polished smile as he greeted, "Hey, Milford." The uncles who'd been buttering up Bradly just a minute ago quickly switched gears, beaming with over-the-top enthusiasm as they stepped up to say hello. "Milford, what prompted the sudden return?" "Milford, I hear you're in the middle of acquiring a domestic company? You're just getting more impressive by the day." "Come on inside, take a seat. We've got some top-shelf coffee." Bradly caught the stark contrast in the uncles' warmth, his smile fading briefly before he pulled it together and led the way forward. Stella quietly eyed the tall, strikingly handsome Milford striding into the living room like the star of the show, instinctively edging back a step. Now fully pushed to the fringes of the crowd, she shifted aside to let the trailing group pass, doing everything she could to blend into the wallpaper. Milford approached steadily. Unlike Bradly's flashy, outgoing vibe, he had a more brooding, aloof kind of handsomeness, like a pine tree blanketed in snow, regal and intimidating. He acknowledged the flattery around him with simple nods, his eyes scanning the room casually, subtly taking stock of everyone there. Until his gaze swept over Stella again, and he came to an abrupt halt. He paused, causing Bradly to stop too. "Something wrong, Milford?" Milford didn't respond, his steady gaze fixed on Stella. It was only a look, but it jolted her to her core. She felt an odd sense of being claimed, uninvited. Yet she'd barely crossed paths with Milford before. Bradly and the others traced his stare, his eyebrow quirking up. "Stella, come say hi to Big Milford." Stella started to step forward, but Milford beat her to it, walking straight toward her. Bradly and the rest exchanged surprised glances. So far, everyone had been approaching Milford. He hadn't initiated with a soul. Milford's deep eyes gave nothing away. "Stella?" Her breath hitched, like a faint breeze had brushed her ear. She hadn't anticipated him coming over to chat. It had been years, and they'd only met once or twice, but he still remembered her. Stella nodded. "Milford, it's been ages—" Before she could finish, Milford held out his hand. The move was so casual, so natural. Out of pure reflex and politeness, Stella extended hers, their palms connecting. In that brief clasp, she felt him squeeze gently, his thumb settling on her fingers and grazing them with a warm intensity. Milford released after just a second. Suddenly, Bradly sidled up, drawing Stella into his side with an arm around her waist, lacing his fingers through her left hand. He said, "Milford, how long are you in town this time? Stella and I can take you out to dinner one of these days." Milford took in their cozy pose, his glance dropping to their intertwined hands. "About a month." The words had barely left his mouth when Chuck came down the stairs, leaning on the butler for support. Milford headed over to talk with him. Not long after, the kitchen called that the party was ready. Stella trailed Bradly to their seats on the left side of the main table. Everyone filed in and sat. As the eldest branch, the two Woodard brothers took priority. Chuck claimed the head of the main table, with Nadine and Milford next in line. Stella and Bradly fell further down the order, landing her right across from Milford on the diagonal. The family feast got underway, with everyone firing questions at Milford about what he'd been up to lately. Stella kept her head down, nibbling at her food while catching bits of the conversation. Zrester bigwig, major stakeholder in Wonder Group, founder of that financial exchange and the smart transportation AI... Milford's credentials were endless and mind-blowing. She thought back to that Zrester party invite list she'd snagged years ago. Milford was third from the top, while she languished at the bottom. In all these years, she'd had next to no interaction with him. Right after the wedding, this mysterious Milford had only shown up once. He dropped off a gift and vanished. In just a handful of years, Milford had climbed to the pinnacle of Zrester's power players. His talent was obvious. Before long, the family party wound down, and folks scattered to grab desserts. Still hung up on that marriage license, Stella excused herself to head upstairs for a coat change. Bradly was itching to chat with Milford, his gaze fixed that way as he muttered distractedly, "Yeah, go on up." Stella wasted no time hustling upstairs. With the crowd milling about downstairs, she slipped to the third floor of the villa and nudged open Bradly's bedroom door. There it was: the glaring marriage license perched right on top of the nightstand, framed, flanked by their wedding portrait. As she stepped closer, memories of Bradly's cozy moments with Shanna flooded her brain, her nails digging slowly into her palm. That license seared her eyes, like it was sneering at her gullibility. She never should've caved, never should've handed Bradly a second shot. It just went to show that people's hearts circled back for seconds. Disgust flickered in her eyes as she hauled the desk's computer chair over, the kind with wheels and a swivel, shaky at best. She climbed onto it, planting one foot on the bed for stability, teetering just enough to hold steady. Stella hiked up her pearl-white knee-length dress a bit and stretched upward slowly. Fingers extended to the max, but she was still a couple inches shy. She rose onto her tiptoes, straining, but no dice. Frowning from her perch, she scanned around and snagged a book from beside the cabinet. As she leaned down, footsteps suddenly echoed outside the door. Fast, but measured. A man's, for sure. Her pulse spiked. She clutched the table, scrambling to hop down, but, perfect timing, her other sleeve caught on the cabinet's edge. She tugged frantically to break free, but it was too late to descend. The door flew open out of nowhere. Stella went rigid, her knees giving way as she toppled backward off the chair. A quick yelp escaped her, but the expected crash never hit. A firm hand latched precisely onto her thigh, another banding around her waist, hauling her into a solid hold and planting her feet firmly on the floor. She slammed into a warm, toned chest, a crisp, grounding sandalwood aroma enveloping her, not Bradly's scent. Stella glanced up, nearly clipping the guy's chin. Milford let go right away, backing off a step to give her space. Her cheeks burned, the thigh he'd gripped feeling like it was on fire. Mortified and frozen, she stammered, "Th-thanks." Milford stayed composed, his eyes skimming her flushed face and the pinkened patch of skin on her thigh from his hold. His Adam's apple dipped subtly. "Didn't realize you were in here. My bad." Stella shook her head, even more flustered. She was the one imposing on him. Milford flicked a glance upward. "Need some help?" She looked too. Up top, the marriage license screamed for attention. Chapter 7 Don't Let Me Hate You Stella just came out with it. "I want to get the marriage license down." Milford hesitated for a beat, without probing why she needed it, and slid the chair out of the way. Tall and long-limbed, he barely had to tip up on his toes to snag it effortlessly. Milford skimmed the lettering on the license, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes before the faintest quirk tugged at his lips, almost undetectable. He passed it over to Stella. "Ah, I see." She missed the words, taking it with a soft murmur: "Thanks, Milford." Her palms were slick with sweat now, but holding the certificate still sent an icy shiver through her. Those bold letters were a brutal reminder. This whole marriage had been one big joke. From beginning to end, Bradly's grand performance of undying love had always had a third wheel in the shadows. Milford dropped his gaze. Towering over her, all he could make out was the neat swirl at the top of her head, round and oddly appealing. Those slim, pale hands gripped the certificate like a vise, completely bloodless. Milford asked offhandedly, "So, what's the marriage license for?" "Oh, I just want to bring it home and store it there," Stella shot back, pulling an excuse out of thin air. Milford's stare felt like it enveloped her, the heat of it almost scorching, though he kept his hands to himself. Then he casually adjusted his cufflinks and turned to go. Stella let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, sagging against the cool cabinet. Her thigh still tingled with warmth from his grip; she quickly smoothed her skirt down, tucked the license into her bag, and only left the room once everything looked undisturbed. Bradly was still out in the back garden, deep in conversation. Stella kept her face neutral, strolling over to stand at his side. A few relatives were chatting with him. "Hey, word is Milford actually got back a couple days ago, but only tipped us off today." Bradly looked taken aback. "I thought he was flying in today?" "Nope, sounds like he hit up some auction. I only heard bits and pieces, supposedly the other night at the Empire Auction House." "He must not have gone. I was there that evening too, and I didn't see him anywhere," Bradly said, frowning in confusion. Stella's eyelashes flickered subtly, but she played it cool. Out of nowhere, her mind jumped back to that enigmatic bidder in suite 217. She wondered, 'Could Milford be the mystery guest who got the bracelet for me?' She shoved the thought down as soon as it surfaced. They'd only crossed paths once, total strangers really, connected by the flimsiest in-law tie. No matter how you sliced it, Milford wouldn't stick his neck out for her. Just like Bradly said, he hadn't caught wind of anything, so it couldn't be Milford. Stella let it go. After some more mingling, the group started to break up. Bradly steered her over to bid farewell to Milford. "Mom, Milford, we're taking off. Let's set up a family dinner soon when things settle." Milford slouched back in his chair with effortless nonchalance and gave a nod. "I'm knee-deep in an acquisition, no hurry on the get-together. But you..." He lifted his head, his expression sharpening. "Keep your life on the straight and narrow. Don't veer off track." The edge of warning in his voice was crystal clear. Bradly had grown up overshadowed by Milford; he went rigid but brushed it off casually. "Come on, everything's good. My company's running smooth as ever. If you're skeptical, drop by anytime and pore over the financials—knock yourself out." "It's not just about the company," Milford said softly, eyes down as he savored a sip of coffee. Stella couldn't help stealing a glance at him, and in that instant, a ridiculous idea struck her. From what Bradly had mentioned, Milford was abroad most of the time but still had the inside scoop on everything back home. She wondered, 'Does he know about the shady stuff Bradly is up to on the sly?' "Milford, I hear you. I'll make sure to nurture my marriage with Stella, our whole life together." Bradly grinned, threading his fingers through Stella's. Milford's gaze lingered on their joined hands for a second before drifting away, sealed with a subtle nod. Stella had no desire for any more close contact with Bradly, so she subtly shook his hand free without thinking. A split second later, his disbelieving stare locked onto her face, and he tried to grab her again. She'd known her move would humiliate him in the moment, so she didn't bother saying goodbye to Milford. She just turned and walked out ahead. Once they slid into the car, Bradly shed his polite, deferential mask from earlier, reverting to his entitled rich-kid swagger. He tugged his tie loose, a flicker of annoyance pinching his brows. "Always playing the big-brother card to chew me out, same crap since we were little. "So what if he's crushing it overseas? I'm holding my own just fine back home. Who in Ostralver would even think about messing with me?" Bradly fished out a menthol cigarette on autopilot, ready to light up, but he caught himself after glancing at Stella and shoved it back. He said, "All these years, folks have been whispering, or saying it straight to my face, that my company's thriving because of his pull. Like he's behind every damn thing. "And you? You flat-out refused to let me hold your hand back there. Trying to make me look like an idiot in front of him?" His expression iced over, the edge in his voice impossible to miss. Stella's frown deepened as she took it in. Even without knowing Milford all that well, she understood that Bradly's cocky antics in Ostralver, brushing people off like they were nothing, had always been propped up by Milford's clout. She'd assumed the brothers were tight, but clearly Bradly's respect was just for show; underneath, his grudge against Milford simmered deep. She could overlook a lot, but with things the way they were now, there was zero point in him putting on that phony hand-holding act. Stella gripped her bag, the one with the marriage license inside, and couldn't bite her tongue. "We haven't held hands in forever. It feels off to me." The car went dead quiet. She was right. Their physical closeness had dwindled so much that even she couldn't pinpoint the last time. Bradly's brow creased, and he snapped the cigarette filter clean off between his fingers. "What was that?" Stella met his eyes steadily. "From here on out, let's skip the pointless touchy-feely stuff. It just doesn't sit right." She hadn't even finished when the brakes screeched harshly. The car lurched to a halt on the empty shoulder of the road. Stella almost smacked into the window from the force, her pulse hammering as she barked, "Are you out of your mind?" Bradly loomed over her, fingers digging into her chin, irritation boiling in his glare. "Stella, do you have any idea what you're saying?" The pinch stung like crazy, and the absurdity of it all hit her as she wrestled to shove him off. "Is it not true? When's the last time we even held hands. Can you remember?" Bradly's gaze turned stormy, like she'd struck a raw spot. "I bet you're hung up on Milford, just like that girl from the second branch. That's why you pulled away in front of him. You're trying to cut ties with me?" "Bradly! What the hell are you babbling about?" Anger surged through her as she pushed harder. "Don't you dare pin your gross history on me!" The way the family had orbited Milford like he was the sun had obviously gotten under his skin. The more she resisted, the darker his look grew. Abruptly, he leaned in and smashed his mouth against hers. Stella's eyes flew wide, her head whipping aside to evade as she hammered at his shoulders with everything she had. He'd locked lips with Shanna god knows how often. The thought turned her stomach, so she clamped down and bit him hard. Bradly yelped in pain, jerking back as the fog cleared and he clocked what he'd just done, regret flashing across his face. Blood dotted his lip, but he brushed it off, lunging to wrap her in his arms. "I'm sorry, Stella, baby, I'm so sorry. I screwed up; it was a stupid impulse..." Drained of energy, Stella sagged into the passenger seat, letting him hold her while a barren wave of emptiness and revulsion washed over her. The hug she'd once melted into now repulsed her to her core. "Get off me." Her voice came out rough and scratchy. "Bradly, don't push me to hating you."
Chapter 1 Don't Want Him Anymore "I'm sorry, ma'am." On the other end of the line, the insurance customer service rep said coolly, "After checking our records, the car owner, Mr. Woodard, is indeed married, but the spouse listed here isn't you." Stella Daniels had gotten into a car accident on her way to the Woodard Group headquarters. She couldn't get through to Bradly Woodard on his phone, so she had no choice but to call the insurance company. The car was registered in Bradly's name, but as his wife, she should be able to process the claim too. "When Mr. Woodard picked up the car, he came with his wife and provided the original marriage license. Her last name is Erickson, and her full name is Shanna Erickson," the rep said. It hit Stella like a slap in the face. Dizziness washed over her in waves, leaving her whole body shaking uncontrollably. She and Bradly had been childhood sweethearts. Their families were old friends, and everyone in Ostralver's high society knew how clingy he was with her. Bradly couldn't stand being apart from her even for a single day. Three years ago, when Stella headed abroad for her studies, Bradly had the plane stopped just for her. During her three years in Ensland, he expanded his business overseas to make it easier to look after her. Sixteen thousand miles apart, he'd still fly across the ocean every week to see her. The year she came down with a severe lung illness and nearly didn't pull through, she spent a week in intensive care. Bradly ignored the infection risks and stayed right by her side, sliding a ring onto her finger. He said, "If anything happens to you, I'll go with you. We'll be husband and wife in the next life too." For Bradly's sake, she turned down her mentor's offer to stay on in the lab and headed back home. Brimming with excitement, she went to find him, planning to surprise him. But when she pushed open the door to the CEO's office, she saw a slender, pretty woman straddling his lap. The woman's innocent face tilted upward, her voice whiny and aggrieved. "Mr. Woodard, what happens to me now that Stella is back?" Bradly sat in his executive chair, his tall frame looming over her. A flash of ruthlessness crossed his stern features. "You? You're just her stand-in. Don't forget your place." He lifted his hand, pinching her delicate chin with a sneer. "Barely a three-out-of-ten resemblance, and you think you can compare to her?" Stella was still clutching the gift she'd prepared for him. With a loud "bang," it dropped to the floor, finally breaking the scene in the office. Bradly's face drained of color as he shoved the woman off and jumped to his feet. That woman was Shanna. After Stella caught them in the act, Bradly fired Shanna on the spot and pulled out all the stops to win her back. Bradly, the arrogant prince of Ostralver's elite circles, humbled himself to the dust before her, begging her to give him another chance. Any project she set her sights on, he'd drop without a second thought. He stood in the pouring rain outside her building for over a week, just for a glimpse of her. He said, "Stella, I'm not asking you to forgive me. At least let me explain. "I only ever saw Shanna as your replacement. You've been gone abroad for so long; I missed you terribly. I swear, I just kept her around. Nothing more ever happened between us. "That time you walked in, I'd had too much to drink, and she deliberately tempted me. I lost control for a moment... "I've already let her go, and she won't show up in our lives again. Stella, please, come back to me." Back then, Stella couldn't stand even the slightest betrayal. She insisted on breaking off the engagement. Until that one incident. She was kidnapped by a business rival. The kidnappers reneged on the deal, tied her up in an abandoned factory, and set the place ablaze. Bradly charged into the flames without a second thought to rescue her, shielding her from a collapsing steel beam. He ended up gravely injured, confined to bed for nearly six months. By risking his life, Bradly finally melted her resolve. Once he was out of the hospital, she accepted his proposal, and they threw a lavish wedding. In the two years since they tied the knot, he'd treated her just as devotedly as ever, with zero scandals. He even imposed a strict curfew on himself, heading home right on time every day. Even on out-of-town business trips, he'd video call her constantly. His partners would tease him about being henpecked. He never denied it. Instead, he'd grin proudly and say, "A real man takes care of his family." Memories rushed through Stella's mind like a whirlwind, every past moment flashing by in a blur. Her legs buckled, and she dropped to her knees, burying her face in her hands. She couldn't figure out which Bradly was the real one anymore. A bitter, mocking gleam sparked in her eyes. She thought, 'How absurd.' She'd been his wife for two years, and only now was she learning that even their marriage license had been a sham. Stella scrubbed her face hard, her bangs already soaked with cold sweat. She ignored the other driver's furious yelling and calmly dialed the police. They showed up fast. After finishing her statement, Stella left the station under a sky that had gone completely dark. Her phone lit up with several missed calls from Bradly. When she hadn't answered, he'd sent texts instead. Bradly: [Babe, I was tied up in a key meeting this afternoon. Signal jammers were on, so I missed your call. You okay?] Bradly: [I've got a client dinner tonight, so I'll be late getting home. I double-checked: no women involved, so no need to worry.] Bradly: [Head to bed early. Don't wait up. Love you.] Stella stared at the screen, a sharp wave of irony twisting in her gut. Bradly didn't stagger in until the wee hours. He reeked of alcohol, which almost, but not quite, masked the subtle whiff of perfume on him. "Honey..." He could barely keep his balance, stumbling over to wrap his arms around her through the blanket. "I missed you so damn much..." Stella didn't say a word. Only once he was dead to the world did she sit up quietly and unlock his phone with his fingerprint. The thing was squeaky clean, no suspicious traces at all. His contacts were mostly buddies and business folks, with hers pinned at the top as "Darling Wife." Flawlessly tidy, just like their sham of a marriage. Stella hooked the phone up to her computer, and it didn't take long to uncover his second WhatsApp account. She signed in, and right away, messages popped up from a profile with a cute pink kitten avatar, labeled "Baby." Shanna: [Bradly, thanks for tonight. Without you, I wouldn't have known what to do.] Shanna: [I've always thought meeting you was the luckiest thing that's ever happened to me. I won't intrude on your life. As long as you swing by to see me once in a while, that's enough to make me happy.] Stella scrolled back through the history. She'd suspected as much, but seeing it all laid out still hit her like a punch to the chest, leaving her breathless. They chatted nearly every day. Shanna never missed a good morning message, and Bradly's replies had shifted over time, from total silence at first, to sporadic responses, and now to answering every single one. A chill spread through her. Stella clutched the phone tighter, knowing she should quit while she was ahead but unable to stop herself from digging deeper. Shanna: [Bradly, sorry, I had a few drinks and lost it for a bit. Doc says I'm okay now, so don't stress.] Shanna: [Mrs. Woodard's birthday bash is important. Go enjoy it with her. I'll be fine.] Stella squeezed her eyes shut as the memory came rushing back. Her birthday. Bradly had spent over a month planning it down to the last detail, but that day, he was totally distracted. Hell, he almost cut his own hand while slicing the cake. When she'd asked what was up, he'd brushed it off as work drama, told her not to worry, then pulled her into a soft embrace and encouraged her to blow out the candles and make a wish. It all made sense now, as she stared at this chat log. That same day, Shanna had tried to kill herself by slashing her wrists and ended up in the ER. A sour bitterness flooded her chest like a rising tide. In those brief seconds when she'd closed her eyes to wish, she wondered, 'Was he agonizing over Shanna in the hospital, or picturing endless years together with her?' Stella knew she didn't need an answer to that anymore. She gently placed the phone back and looked down at Bradly, fast asleep beside her. She'd known him since she was four, and for the twenty years that followed, she'd truly believed his love was hers alone, irreplaceable. But now she saw it for what it was: just cheap free samples at a store, handed out to anyone who walked by. If that was all it amounted to, she was done with it. Chapter 2 Bid Against Her The next day, Stella woke to find Bradly busy in the kitchen, his broad shoulders narrowing to a slim waist, his tall, lean build moving with purpose. The sight hit her hard, a dull ache tightening in her chest. Bradly had learned to cook entirely for her sake. She still remembered that turbulent period when the Woodard Group was in crisis. His rivals had targeted her, paying off a servant to poison her food. She'd been unconscious for three full days. When she finally woke, Bradly was there, his eyes red-rimmed and veined with exhaustion, gripping her hand like a lifeline. The instant she stirred, the imposing Bradly crumbled forward, enveloping her in a hug as scalding tears fell onto her skin. From then on, Bradly threw himself into cooking lessons, taking charge of all her meals. In less than a month, he'd gone from a spoiled elite who couldn't distinguish spices to turning out dishes worthy of a Michelin chef. Just then, his phone rang. Stella glanced at it but made no move to answer. Bradly darted out of the kitchen, apron still on, grabbing the phone with a barely concealed flash of anxiety. Stella pretended not to notice and went to wash up. When she came back, the table was set with breakfast, and he was slipping into his suit jacket from the coat rack. Seeing her, he said gently, "There's an emergency at work. I have to run. Sorry I can't join you for breakfast." Stella murmured, "Sure, work comes first." He was clearly in a hurry, because he didn't pick up on the new edge of cool distance in her tone and rushed out. She stared blankly after him until he was gone, then dumped the entire spread into the trash. Then she picked up her phone and dialed a number. "That offer you made before? I'm on board." The person on the other end erupted in delight, chattering away before shifting to broken Andosa Language. "Stella, why the sudden change of heart? I've bugged you about this so many times, and you always said you were married now and focusing on family." A mocking glint flickered in Stella's eyes. She thought, 'Married? This so-called marriage has been dead on arrival.' The caller was her former mentor from her overseas studies. He'd reached out lately, hoping she'd join his new team and spearhead a major project. At the time, she'd kept saying no out of loyalty to Bradly. Now, she only wished she'd seen through the absurd joke of their marriage earlier. After the call, she contacted immigration to schedule a passport renewal. It would take about a week. But before heading out, she had one loose end to tie up. That evening, Stella showed up at a private auction at the Cloud Hotel. She was after one of her mother's keepsakes. Her mom had died when she was eight, and soon after, the Daniels family had liquidated her wedding gift. Stella had been hunting down the items ever since. Over the years, she'd only reclaimed a few. Tonight's auction featured a bracelet from that collection, one her mother had picked up on a trip to Ijance. It was utterly unique, irreplaceable. Whatever it took, she was getting it back. Stella settled into her seat just as the auction was about to start. She was flipping through the catalog when Bradly's voice floated over. "Didn't I already pick out that royal blue sapphire set for you? Not good enough?" His voice carried that familiar tenderness. Shanna linked her arm with his, pouting playfully. "Your taste sucks! I want to pick my own birthday gift." Stella watched them quietly until Bradly threaded through the guests and their gazes collided by chance. The color drained from his face. On pure reflex, he jerked his arm away from Shanna. "Stella." He strode over quickly. "I tried calling you a few times, but you didn't answer. Were you planning to surprise me?" Even though he tried to play it cool, she could still catch that subtle hint of panic in his expression. Stella didn't bother calling him on it, replying evenly, "My phone was on silent. I didn't hear it." Bradly visibly relaxed, casually taking her hand in his with a look of concern. "Your hands are like ice. Didn't I warn you about the cold snap today? You're always putting style over staying warm. If you catch a chill, you know it'll just kill me." As he talked, he signaled a server for a blanket and draped it snugly around her shoulders. Stella kept a straight face, brushing him off as she looked past him to Shanna, who lingered behind with a scowl. Shanna nibbled her lip, then defiantly dropped into the seat next to Bradly, her gaze simmering with irritation. Bradly leaned closer, dropping his voice to explain, "We just wrapped up a major project at the company, and Shanna pulled her weight big time. Her birthday's around the corner, so I thought I'd treat her to something as a project bonus." He eyed her anxiously. "Stella, you're not mad, right?" Shanna piped up in a soft, vulnerable tone. "Mrs. Woodard, if this upsets you, I'll just go. I don't want to get in the way of you and Mr. Woodard." Stella's mouth quirked into a smile that never touched her eyes. "We're married. A little thing like this? Of course it doesn't bother me." The auction got underway shortly after. Bradly treated Shanna like she was invisible, focusing entirely on Stella. He paged through the catalog, throwing in bids left and right. "Babe, this would look amazing on you." He grinned, tenderly brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his tone warm and intimate. "You'd be gorgeous in it." Stella averted her eyes, but out of the corner of her vision, she saw Shanna discreetly clutching the edge of Bradly's jacket in the dim light. Their gazes locked for a split second in a shared, lingering look. She masked the derision in her own eyes, struck by how absurd it all was. Bradly seemed totally at ease juggling both women, convinced he was keeping things balanced, one with the official status, the other with his undivided public attention. She thought, 'What could be fairer than that?' But Stella had never been interested in that kind of equilibrium. Her world extended far beyond romance. Bradly? He was just a small detour on her path, a misstep she'd own up to. And now, it was time to set things right. "Next up: a string of bracelet. Fine-grained texture, deep aroma that lingers. Starting bid at 170,000 dollars, with increments of at least 20,000 dollars!" The auctioneer's pumped-up voice echoed through the room. Finally, Stella's main target for the evening. Bids flew in fast, the screen flickering with updates as the auctioneer called out, "Number 17 lady at 200,000 dollars! Number 9 gentleman ups it to 260,000 dollars! Going higher?" Once the initial frenzy tapered off, Stella lifted her paddle. "500,000 dollars." She'd doubled the current bid in one go. It was a hefty amount. Sure, the bracelet was top-notch, but it wasn't the auction's highlight. The room went quiet after her call; no one countered. "Fantastic! Number 11 lady at 500,000 dollars! "500,000 dollars once! 500,000 dollars twice!" The auctioneer hoisted his gavel, poised to bring it down. "No more bids? Then 500,000 dollars—" "520,000 dollars," A gentle, hesitant voice interrupted. Shanna shrank against Bradly's side, paddle in hand, murmuring timidly to him, "Is this where I put in the amount?" Chapter 3 You're Dirty Stella frowned and raised her bid. "540,000 dollars." But Shanna was right behind her, countering with, "560,000 dollars." How annoyingly precise, each time, she stuck to the bare minimum, slapping on just 20,000 dollars more than Stella's offer. Shanna turned toward her, her voice dripping with plea. "Stella, you've got plenty of jewelry already. Please, let me have this one. I adore it. "I'm not like you, born with money, everything handed to you on a silver platter. You snap your fingers and get whatever you want. If it goes any higher, I really won't be able to keep up." Stella didn't bother looking at her, just quirking her lips in a thin smile. "Isn't Mr. Woodard covering the cost for you? What are you stressing about?" Shanna's face went a shade paler, but she answered in that soft, demure tone, "Even so, Mr. Woodard earns his money the hard way. If I can save him a bit, I ought to." She was the epitome of considerate and caring. After several more back-and-forth bids, the bracelet's price had soared to 700,000 dollars. Stella let out a chilly scoff and was opening her mouth to up the ante when Bradly beat her to it. He said, "Babe, why don't we just let Shanna take this bracelet?" Stella's fingers curled into a tight fist, her nails biting into her palm. She lifted her gaze, any lingering warmth in her eyes turning to ice. "What did you just say?" Bradly let out a resigned sigh, giving her hand a comforting pat as he murmured gently, "Babe, I already told Shanna she'd get a gift tonight, and she's got her heart set on this one. No need to compete with her. "Plus, I've already snagged you a handful of other pieces. Isn't that plenty?" He said it all lightly, teasingly, as if it were nothing more than a harmless quip. Stella shut her eyes, a nameless sourness creeping along her nerves, coiling around her heart until it felt like she couldn't draw a breath. Given Shanna's modest background, 700,000 dollars was way out of her league. She wouldn't even make the guest list here on her own. The only reason she was in that seat, trading bids blow for blow, was Bradly's backing. His pampering had delivered her straight into Stella's path. Stella whispered, "What if I refuse to back down?" She hoisted her paddle once more, her voice echoing through the room. "1 million dollars." A hush blanketed the hall. The auctioneer clearly picked up on the drama, his delivery faltering. "Number eleven at 1 million dollars. Do I hear higher?" Shanna's eyes welled up, on the verge of tears, as she cast a helpless look at Bradly before tacking on another fifty thousand. "1 million 20 thousand dollars." Stella's features hardened to frost, and she was poised to fire back when the manager bustled over, bending close to murmur, "Mrs. Woodard, apologies. We ran a credit verification on your account, and it's frozen. Got another one we can use?" The words slammed into her like a bolt from the blue, ringing in her ears. She snapped her head toward Bradly, but he'd already looked away. An icy numbness spread through her arms and legs. She though,t 'Of course, it has to be him.' Her primary account was linked with his; besides her, only he could authorize a freeze on her cards. Triumph flickered in Shanna's eyes as she added with a pointed edge, "Well, in that case, Mrs. Woodard, maybe it's time to step aside. You've got so much already. Can't you let me have this one little thing?" Up on stage, the auction rolled on, the display frozen on Shanna's latest bid: 1 million 20 thousand dollars. Shanna could hardly hide her glee, chirping sweetly, "Go on, call it!" But the words had barely left her lips when someone announced he would bid for the lot at any costs right in the second-floor VIP suite. After a momentary silence, the room burst into chaos. "He's declared absolute intent!" Even the auctioneer's expression changed. He'd been in the game for over a decade, but this was his first encounter with such a scenario. He hurriedly called out, "Lot number six goes to the gentleman in box 217, regardless of how high the price goes." Anyone up in those second-floor VIP suites was either swimming in money or held serious sway in Ostralver's upper crust. Stella glanced upward toward the source of the voice, catching only a vague outline behind the draped curtains. Even when she couldn't see his face, the man's crossed-legged posture radiated an unspoken dominance that pressed down on the room. The auctioneer slammed his gavel down with finality, proclaiming, "Congratulations to our esteemed guest in box 217 on winning lot number six! You're now upgraded to black gold status!" Across all of Ostralver's elite scene, fewer than a handful had ever hit black gold level at these events. Stella wondered, 'Just who is this mystery man?' Stella loosened her clenched fist slightly, torn between relief that her mother's heirloom hadn't landed in Shanna's clutches and anxiety over reclaiming it from this unknown figure. No matter what, she'd stop at nothing, pay any price, to bring her mother's possession home. She rose to her feet, intent on marching over to box 217 for a chat, when the attendant who'd just ducked inside reappeared, tray in hand with the bracelet. "What's this? The bidder in 217 having second thoughts?" "Auctions don't do take-backs." "Probably short on funds. I called it. No one's done this here before." As the murmurs swirled, the attendant headed straight for Stella, dipping into a courteous bow with a warm smile. She said, "Mrs. Woodard, the gentleman in box 217 requests that I deliver the bracelet to you as a gift. He wishes for you to follow your true path and for all to unfold as it should." The place erupted in gossip once more, with guests shooting glances her way, some envious, others skeptical, many flat-out stunned. "Isn't that Mrs. Woodard? What's her deal with the upstairs guy?" "Likely just buttering up Mr. Woodard." "Nah, I don't buy it. Out of all the goodies tonight, why zero in on those beads for Mrs. Woodard? Sounds like she's got a real connection there." The buzz filtered through, and Bradly's face turned stone-cold. In a tight, edged voice, he demanded, "Stella, what's the story with you and whoever's in box 217?" Stella held his piercing stare and said flatly, "I have no idea who he is." "!" Bradly jumped up, clamping down on her wrist like a vice. Her soft, fair skin reddened almost instantly under the pressure. Stella winced sharply, jerking her arm back on reflex. "Bradly, have you lost your mind? Haven't you stirred up enough drama for one day?" But he barreled on, blind to her fury, his reddened eyes locked on her as if he could swallow her up. "What's really between you two? "Stella, through all our married years, I've bent over backward for you. Anything you desired, I served it up without question. Why would you betray me like this?" In his mind, it was already a done deal: she was entangled in something shady with the man above. If the guy was angling for a favor from him, Bradly would've recognized him right away. People in Ostralver didn't beat around the bush when they needed something from him. They came direct. The jab landed raw and direct. Bradly blinked, frozen for a beat as a flicker of alarm shot through his eyes. Chapter 4 Don't Know You'd Come Bradly said, "I'm sorry, Stella. I didn't mean it like that. I had no right getting jealous over you and some stranger. It's all on me." Bradly's eyes reddened. "But honestly, there's nothing going on between Shanna and me. I just brought her along as a thank-you. Can you let this slide?" Seeing his cue, Shanna ducked her head meekly, her voice catching. "That's right, Mrs. Woodard. I've been bending over backward to keep my distance from Mr. Woodard so you wouldn't get the wrong impression. "I'm not asking for the world, just a decent birthday gift. I didn't grow up with your advantages; you've had everything handed to you and even snagged a catch like Mr. Woodard. Can't I at least pick out something for myself?" "Just a gift, huh?" Stella closed in on her, one step at a time. "Ms. Erickson, I've never given a damn about this 'gift' you're going on about. What gets under my skin is you, a Woodard Group employee, crossing lines you have no business crossing." As they drew closer, Bradly instinctively stepped in front of Shanna, his voice soft and coaxing. "Stella, if it's bugging you this much, I'll transfer her to a branch office once the auction's over. "But for now, cut me some slack. Let Shanna have the bracelet. When we get home, name your price on anything, and it's yours." Shanna bobbed her head in agreement, tears glistening on her lashes as she pleaded, "Stella, I really adore this bracelet. You've got it all already. Why go after the one thing I want? "Or is this just because you hate my guts and can't resist taking shots at me?" "What makes you think I'd ever like you?" Stella let out a cold snort. "This belonged to me from the start. Why the hell would I give it up?" She took the bracelet from the attendant with casual ease, her smile sharp but empty. "Ms. Erickson, know your place." Her refusal to budge finally wore through Bradly's patience, erasing every bit of softness from his face. "Stella, do you have to humiliate me like this in front of everyone? Where does that leave my dignity? "It's just a crappy old bracelet. Am I really worth less to you than some trinket?" He said it with such conviction, as if he'd wiped from his memory the solemn vow he'd made when proposing: that he'd hunt down every single one of her mother's sold-off keepsakes, no matter what. Stella's hand flew up, delivering a resounding slap across his cheek. The sharp crack rang out, pulling shocked stares from every corner of the room. Bradly's head snapped sideways, his face livid as he fixed her with a glare, his words hissing through clenched teeth. "Stella, drop the drama already. Have I pampered you too much these days, turning you into this unreasonable nightmare?" Stella reined in her temper, keeping her tone even. "Bradly, you better not live to regret today." Without another word, she turned and walked out, not sparing a backward glance. As her figure receded, Shanna gently touched the angry red mark on Bradly's cheek, her voice full of worry. "Mr. Woodard, are you okay? "Stella's got no boundaries. How could she hit you with all these people watching?" Bradly swatted her hand aside, his nails digging into his palm as he stared after her retreating path. "I've spoiled her rotten, letting her forget that everything she has comes from me." Shanna peeked at his changing expression, testing the waters. "Mr. Woodard, about the bracelet..." Bradly rubbed his throbbing cheek, pulled a bank card from his pocket, and handed it over. "1.7 million dollars on there. Buy whatever catches your eye." Box 217, Stella rapped on the door, eager to thank the mystery bidder face-to-face. Silence. She caught a server walking by. "Excuse me, any idea where the gentleman from this box headed?" "He slipped out right after nabbing the last item," the server said. Disappointment flashed in her eyes, but Stella pressed on, "Do you know who he was?" The server gave her a regretful smile. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard, we're not allowed to spill on our VIPs. Don't make this harder for us." Catching herself, Stella moved out of the way. "Thanks all the same." By the time she made it home from the auction, an hour had ticked by. Stella went straight up to the study, fired up the computer, and dove into the assets registered under her and Bradly's names. After tallying up the numbers, she snatched her phone, found lawyer Rubin Cobb's contact, and hit dial. She said, "I've sorted out the asset division documents for me and Bradly and sent them over. I need you to handle the property split by tomorrow." Rubin quickly received the files and nodded respectfully. "Of course, Mrs. Woodard. I'll get right on it." Stella stared intently at her computer screen, her grip tightening on the mouse. "If Bradly's committed bigamy, how should our assets be divided?" "Generally, any property the bigamous party gained through the bigamy can be claimed back by the other spouse," Rubin replied matter-of-factly. Half of Bradly's current wealth had come from Stella's investments to support his career early on. Her expression darkened, and she promptly forwarded the marriage license between him and Shanna. "Rubin, please use every legal avenue to recover my half of the assets." After hanging up, Stella slumped back in her chair, utterly drained physically and emotionally. She closed her eyes slowly, but sleep was nowhere in sight. Bradly would never agree to a divorce. Until she had everything locked down, she couldn't let on that anything was amiss. Just then, the study door was kicked open from the outside. Bradly flung his jacket onto the desk and yanked Stella up from her seat in front of the computer. "Do you realize that because of your little outburst, I've become a laughingstock in our circles? "What exactly do you want? Are you still obsessing over what happened back then?" Stella opened her eyes slowly, her gaze settling calmly on Bradly, but she remained silent. A fire raged in Bradly's chest, intensifying by the second, and he couldn't hold back his fury any longer. "Since we got married, have I ever done anything to wrong you? I come home right on time every night after work, I always fill you in on any business dinners, and if there's even a hint of a woman involved, I skip them entirely! I've bent over backward, and it's still not good enough for you?" He remembered every detail crystal clear. In his mind, these were the sacrifices he'd made to marry her. Stella suddenly found the whole thing absurd. She couldn't bear to look at him anymore, so she stood up and walked straight out of the study without a backward glance. Behind her, Bradly's voice echoed heavily. "Stella, no matter what you think, my conscience is clear." It felt like Stella's heart had been shattered into icy fragments, a sharp, bitter pain surging through her. Her mind buzzed, and for a moment, all she could hear was that phrase repeating over and over. She thought, 'My conscience is clear? So, in his eyes, everything he's done is perfectly justifiable.' The next morning, when Stella woke up, Bradly was already gone. On the table sat the breakfast he'd prepared, tailored exactly to her tastes. Stella pressed her lips together, her feelings a complicated tangle. They'd ended things on a sour note last night, yet Bradly had still made her breakfast this morning. But this was the same man who'd lied to her for years. No matter what, it was time to end things with Bradly. She didn't touch the food and headed straight to the office. These past few years, she'd stayed out of Bradly's business dealings. A lot of her old financial records were outdated now, and she needed the latest reports. The secretary looked startled when she saw her, then managed to say, "Mrs. Woodard, are you here to see Mr. Woodard?" "No." Stella replied evenly. "Send the finance manager in to see me." Her shares were second only to Bradly's, giving her full access to every aspect of the company. The secretary hesitated briefly before nodding. Stella noticed her immediately turning to make a phone call, probably alerting Bradly. Stella didn't intervene; let her. She settled into the finance office, sipping her coffee absentmindedly while flipping through magazines on the shelf. Most were glossy entertainment rags, mixed in with novels and comics. Stella frowned, only now picking up on the details: the desk was covered in a pink plaid mat, cluttered with adorable plush toys. The standout pair was a set of couple dolls, their outfits emblazoned with the letters W and E. It hit Stella suddenly what that meant, and just then, the door behind her swung open. Shanna rushed in. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard." She was clutching a cup of coffee as she apologized. "I had no idea you'd drop by like this..." Chapter 5 All For Milford Stella arched an eyebrow as she looked her over. "So you're the finance manager?" Shanna nodded with a quick smile. "That's me. If you need anything at all, just say the word. Bradly, well, Mr. Woodard is tied up in a meeting right now. But don't worry, I'll make sure to relay whatever message you have." Stella let out a soft laugh. "No need for that." She regarded Shanna with clear curiosity. "I'm not looking for Bradly. I'm here to see you." Shanna's smile faltered for a moment before she recovered, her tone turning gentle. "Mrs. Woodard, I get that you're still bothered by what went down at the auction last night, but there's no reason to be so worked up about my connection to Mr. Woodard. After all..." She raised her hand, the elegant diamond ring on her finger glinting under the light, perfectly complementing her bashful grin. "I'm already married, and things are great between me and my husband." Stella's eyes locked on the ring, her breath hitching just for an instant. It was ridiculous. In this whole messed-up situation, she was the one playing the role of the mistress. The ring was an exact match for the one Bradly had given her during his proposal. But within seconds, Stella averted her gaze. "It's a lovely ring, but you're mistaken." She spoke unhurriedly, "I'm just here to grab the latest financial report from you. That's all." Stella caught the sour shift in Shanna's expression and smiled to herself. "Seems like you're the one on edge here, Ms. Erickson." Shanna's face transformed completely, that smug spark in her eyes snuffed out. She bit her lip, unable to find words for a long beat. Stella watched her with unruffled poise. "Do I need to repeat my request, Ms. Erickson?" The words had barely left her mouth when Bradly burst in, his expression clouding over at the sight. "Stella, wasn't the scene from last night enough?" His voice was laced with ice. "How long are you planning to drag this out? I've told you already. There's nothing going on between me and Shanna. If you don't believe me..." Stella interrupted him mid-sentence, "Oh, I believe you. Absolutely." A faint smirk tugged at her lips, though her eyes remained frosty as they settled on Shanna. "After all, Ms. Erickson's already married. She just mentioned it herself." The statement landed like a bomb. Shanna's face drained of color, and Bradly's followed suit. He shot her a withering glare. Tears sprang to Shanna's eyes in an instant. Stella had no interest in watching the drama unfold any further. She said evenly, "I'm here for this year's financials. I hold forty percent of the company. Surely I can access that, right?" Bradly seemed to snap back to reality, nodding hastily. "Of course you can." He barked orders at the secretary to fetch it immediately, all the while stealing wary glances at her face. Once he confirmed she wasn't giving anything away, he exhaled almost imperceptibly in relief. He said, "Stella, what's with the sudden interest? You've never bothered with company matters before." Stella answered coolly, "After the account freeze last night, I decided it's smarter to set up a separate one." Bradly's expression froze again. "Stella..." The secretary returned promptly with the report. Stella brushed Bradly aside, skimmed through it quickly, and was heading for the door when he caught her by the wrist. He said, "Stella, about the family dinner tonight, are you coming home with me?" His tone was pleading, like he needed her answer to reassure himself that she hadn't caught on to anything fishy. Stella didn't look back, just replying calmly, "Sure." Bradly's face lit up. "Great, I'll swing by after work to pick you up." Stella dropped her gaze, masking the cool detachment in her eyes. She'd only agreed to head back to the family estate for one specific reason. The marriage license from when she and Bradly had tied the knot was a phony, but he'd made a whole production out of stashing it away at the house, claiming it had to be kept secure. Nothing could serve as stronger proof. Once she got her hands on it, his bigamy would be ironclad. Stella didn't bother waiting for Bradly; she hailed a cab and got there ahead of time. She'd figured it was just a standard family gathering, but she was caught off guard by the full turnout. Bradly's parents, fresh from their overseas vacation last week, were back, and even the distant relatives from the Woodard family's side branches had shown up en masse. "Stella, dear." As she walked in, Nadine Woodard peered over her shoulder. "Bradly didn't come with you?" Stella answered evenly, "He'll be along shortly." Nadine clicked her tongue, her irritation obvious. "On an important occasion like this, letting someone from outside the family arrive solo, what's got into him?" Stella's brow furrowed just a touch. She and Bradly had been engaged since childhood, but after her mother's passing, the Daniels family's status had tanked while the Woodard family kept climbing. That was when Nadine started pushing to scrap the arrangement, and she'd mentioned it more than a few times. But Chuck Woodard was upright and principled, flat-out refusing to play the social-climbing game. With Bradly dead set on marrying her and no one else, Nadine had reluctantly given in, though she made her resentment clear. Even after the marriage, she never passed up an opportunity to give Stella the cold shoulder. She was about to add something else when the butler rushed in and murmured, "He's here." Nadine promptly dropped the subject with Stella and jumped to her feet, the extended family hustling out right behind her to welcome the arrivals. The level of pomp surprised Stella. The Woodard family was already at the top of Ostralver's social elite. For them to pull out all the stops like this... Standing at the edge of the group, Stella glanced up and saw a black Maybach rolling up to the front of the estate. Someone hurried forward to open the door respectfully, and a tall, imposing figure stepped out unhurriedly. The man wore a sleek black suit, his chiseled features sharp, eyes as midnight, radiating a fierce intensity. Every gesture exuded a natural poise and authority that made it tough to hold his stare. The crowd swarmed forward in a rush, but he stayed cool and detached the whole time, his stunningly handsome face as impassive as carved ice, showing zero emotion. Then, as if picking up on something, he looked up toward Stella. Their eyes locked unexpectedly, sending her heart pounding. It was Milford Woodard, Bradly's brother. He'd returned to the country. Though they were brothers in name, Milford wasn't all that tight with the family. He'd headed overseas young and had spent years growing the business abroad. His father Edward Woodard was a total lightweight, good only at spending cash, not earning it. His grandpa Chuck had the smarts and drive, but age was catching up, leaving him unable to manage it all. Real power over the Woodard family had shifted to Milford ages ago. Stella let out a quiet breath. She thought, 'That explains the big crowd today. They've all turned out for Milford.' Chapter 6 Need Help? Stella lingered in the corner of the living room, watching the relatives descend like a swarm of locusts, all scrambling to surround Milford. Bradly stood next to Nadine, flashing a polished smile as he greeted, "Hey, Milford." The uncles who'd been buttering up Bradly just a minute ago quickly switched gears, beaming with over-the-top enthusiasm as they stepped up to say hello. "Milford, what prompted the sudden return?" "Milford, I hear you're in the middle of acquiring a domestic company? You're just getting more impressive by the day." "Come on inside, take a seat. We've got some top-shelf coffee." Bradly caught the stark contrast in the uncles' warmth, his smile fading briefly before he pulled it together and led the way forward. Stella quietly eyed the tall, strikingly handsome Milford striding into the living room like the star of the show, instinctively edging back a step. Now fully pushed to the fringes of the crowd, she shifted aside to let the trailing group pass, doing everything she could to blend into the wallpaper. Milford approached steadily. Unlike Bradly's flashy, outgoing vibe, he had a more brooding, aloof kind of handsomeness, like a pine tree blanketed in snow, regal and intimidating. He acknowledged the flattery around him with simple nods, his eyes scanning the room casually, subtly taking stock of everyone there. Until his gaze swept over Stella again, and he came to an abrupt halt. He paused, causing Bradly to stop too. "Something wrong, Milford?" Milford didn't respond, his steady gaze fixed on Stella. It was only a look, but it jolted her to her core. She felt an odd sense of being claimed, uninvited. Yet she'd barely crossed paths with Milford before. Bradly and the others traced his stare, his eyebrow quirking up. "Stella, come say hi to Big Milford." Stella started to step forward, but Milford beat her to it, walking straight toward her. Bradly and the rest exchanged surprised glances. So far, everyone had been approaching Milford. He hadn't initiated with a soul. Milford's deep eyes gave nothing away. "Stella?" Her breath hitched, like a faint breeze had brushed her ear. She hadn't anticipated him coming over to chat. It had been years, and they'd only met once or twice, but he still remembered her. Stella nodded. "Milford, it's been ages—" Before she could finish, Milford held out his hand. The move was so casual, so natural. Out of pure reflex and politeness, Stella extended hers, their palms connecting. In that brief clasp, she felt him squeeze gently, his thumb settling on her fingers and grazing them with a warm intensity. Milford released after just a second. Suddenly, Bradly sidled up, drawing Stella into his side with an arm around her waist, lacing his fingers through her left hand. He said, "Milford, how long are you in town this time? Stella and I can take you out to dinner one of these days." Milford took in their cozy pose, his glance dropping to their intertwined hands. "About a month." The words had barely left his mouth when Chuck came down the stairs, leaning on the butler for support. Milford headed over to talk with him. Not long after, the kitchen called that the party was ready. Stella trailed Bradly to their seats on the left side of the main table. Everyone filed in and sat. As the eldest branch, the two Woodard brothers took priority. Chuck claimed the head of the main table, with Nadine and Milford next in line. Stella and Bradly fell further down the order, landing her right across from Milford on the diagonal. The family feast got underway, with everyone firing questions at Milford about what he'd been up to lately. Stella kept her head down, nibbling at her food while catching bits of the conversation. Zrester bigwig, major stakeholder in Wonder Group, founder of that financial exchange and the smart transportation AI... Milford's credentials were endless and mind-blowing. She thought back to that Zrester party invite list she'd snagged years ago. Milford was third from the top, while she languished at the bottom. In all these years, she'd had next to no interaction with him. Right after the wedding, this mysterious Milford had only shown up once. He dropped off a gift and vanished. In just a handful of years, Milford had climbed to the pinnacle of Zrester's power players. His talent was obvious. Before long, the family party wound down, and folks scattered to grab desserts. Still hung up on that marriage license, Stella excused herself to head upstairs for a coat change. Bradly was itching to chat with Milford, his gaze fixed that way as he muttered distractedly, "Yeah, go on up." Stella wasted no time hustling upstairs. With the crowd milling about downstairs, she slipped to the third floor of the villa and nudged open Bradly's bedroom door. There it was: the glaring marriage license perched right on top of the nightstand, framed, flanked by their wedding portrait. As she stepped closer, memories of Bradly's cozy moments with Shanna flooded her brain, her nails digging slowly into her palm. That license seared her eyes, like it was sneering at her gullibility. She never should've caved, never should've handed Bradly a second shot. It just went to show that people's hearts circled back for seconds. Disgust flickered in her eyes as she hauled the desk's computer chair over, the kind with wheels and a swivel, shaky at best. She climbed onto it, planting one foot on the bed for stability, teetering just enough to hold steady. Stella hiked up her pearl-white knee-length dress a bit and stretched upward slowly. Fingers extended to the max, but she was still a couple inches shy. She rose onto her tiptoes, straining, but no dice. Frowning from her perch, she scanned around and snagged a book from beside the cabinet. As she leaned down, footsteps suddenly echoed outside the door. Fast, but measured. A man's, for sure. Her pulse spiked. She clutched the table, scrambling to hop down, but, perfect timing, her other sleeve caught on the cabinet's edge. She tugged frantically to break free, but it was too late to descend. The door flew open out of nowhere. Stella went rigid, her knees giving way as she toppled backward off the chair. A quick yelp escaped her, but the expected crash never hit. A firm hand latched precisely onto her thigh, another banding around her waist, hauling her into a solid hold and planting her feet firmly on the floor. She slammed into a warm, toned chest, a crisp, grounding sandalwood aroma enveloping her, not Bradly's scent. Stella glanced up, nearly clipping the guy's chin. Milford let go right away, backing off a step to give her space. Her cheeks burned, the thigh he'd gripped feeling like it was on fire. Mortified and frozen, she stammered, "Th-thanks." Milford stayed composed, his eyes skimming her flushed face and the pinkened patch of skin on her thigh from his hold. His Adam's apple dipped subtly. "Didn't realize you were in here. My bad." Stella shook her head, even more flustered. She was the one imposing on him. Milford flicked a glance upward. "Need some help?" She looked too. Up top, the marriage license screamed for attention. Chapter 7 Don't Let Me Hate You Stella just came out with it. "I want to get the marriage license down." Milford hesitated for a beat, without probing why she needed it, and slid the chair out of the way. Tall and long-limbed, he barely had to tip up on his toes to snag it effortlessly. Milford skimmed the lettering on the license, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes before the faintest quirk tugged at his lips, almost undetectable. He passed it over to Stella. "Ah, I see." She missed the words, taking it with a soft murmur: "Thanks, Milford." Her palms were slick with sweat now, but holding the certificate still sent an icy shiver through her. Those bold letters were a brutal reminder. This whole marriage had been one big joke. From beginning to end, Bradly's grand performance of undying love had always had a third wheel in the shadows. Milford dropped his gaze. Towering over her, all he could make out was the neat swirl at the top of her head, round and oddly appealing. Those slim, pale hands gripped the certificate like a vise, completely bloodless. Milford asked offhandedly, "So, what's the marriage license for?" "Oh, I just want to bring it home and store it there," Stella shot back, pulling an excuse out of thin air. Milford's stare felt like it enveloped her, the heat of it almost scorching, though he kept his hands to himself. Then he casually adjusted his cufflinks and turned to go. Stella let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, sagging against the cool cabinet. Her thigh still tingled with warmth from his grip; she quickly smoothed her skirt down, tucked the license into her bag, and only left the room once everything looked undisturbed. Bradly was still out in the back garden, deep in conversation. Stella kept her face neutral, strolling over to stand at his side. A few relatives were chatting with him. "Hey, word is Milford actually got back a couple days ago, but only tipped us off today." Bradly looked taken aback. "I thought he was flying in today?" "Nope, sounds like he hit up some auction. I only heard bits and pieces, supposedly the other night at the Empire Auction House." "He must not have gone. I was there that evening too, and I didn't see him anywhere," Bradly said, frowning in confusion. Stella's eyelashes flickered subtly, but she played it cool. Out of nowhere, her mind jumped back to that enigmatic bidder in suite 217. She wondered, 'Could Milford be the mystery guest who got the bracelet for me?' She shoved the thought down as soon as it surfaced. They'd only crossed paths once, total strangers really, connected by the flimsiest in-law tie. No matter how you sliced it, Milford wouldn't stick his neck out for her. Just like Bradly said, he hadn't caught wind of anything, so it couldn't be Milford. Stella let it go. After some more mingling, the group started to break up. Bradly steered her over to bid farewell to Milford. "Mom, Milford, we're taking off. Let's set up a family dinner soon when things settle." Milford slouched back in his chair with effortless nonchalance and gave a nod. "I'm knee-deep in an acquisition, no hurry on the get-together. But you..." He lifted his head, his expression sharpening. "Keep your life on the straight and narrow. Don't veer off track." The edge of warning in his voice was crystal clear. Bradly had grown up overshadowed by Milford; he went rigid but brushed it off casually. "Come on, everything's good. My company's running smooth as ever. If you're skeptical, drop by anytime and pore over the financials—knock yourself out." "It's not just about the company," Milford said softly, eyes down as he savored a sip of coffee. Stella couldn't help stealing a glance at him, and in that instant, a ridiculous idea struck her. From what Bradly had mentioned, Milford was abroad most of the time but still had the inside scoop on everything back home. She wondered, 'Does he know about the shady stuff Bradly is up to on the sly?' "Milford, I hear you. I'll make sure to nurture my marriage with Stella, our whole life together." Bradly grinned, threading his fingers through Stella's. Milford's gaze lingered on their joined hands for a second before drifting away, sealed with a subtle nod. Stella had no desire for any more close contact with Bradly, so she subtly shook his hand free without thinking. A split second later, his disbelieving stare locked onto her face, and he tried to grab her again. She'd known her move would humiliate him in the moment, so she didn't bother saying goodbye to Milford. She just turned and walked out ahead. Once they slid into the car, Bradly shed his polite, deferential mask from earlier, reverting to his entitled rich-kid swagger. He tugged his tie loose, a flicker of annoyance pinching his brows. "Always playing the big-brother card to chew me out, same crap since we were little. "So what if he's crushing it overseas? I'm holding my own just fine back home. Who in Ostralver would even think about messing with me?" Bradly fished out a menthol cigarette on autopilot, ready to light up, but he caught himself after glancing at Stella and shoved it back. He said, "All these years, folks have been whispering, or saying it straight to my face, that my company's thriving because of his pull. Like he's behind every damn thing. "And you? You flat-out refused to let me hold your hand back there. Trying to make me look like an idiot in front of him?" His expression iced over, the edge in his voice impossible to miss. Stella's frown deepened as she took it in. Even without knowing Milford all that well, she understood that Bradly's cocky antics in Ostralver, brushing people off like they were nothing, had always been propped up by Milford's clout. She'd assumed the brothers were tight, but clearly Bradly's respect was just for show; underneath, his grudge against Milford simmered deep. She could overlook a lot, but with things the way they were now, there was zero point in him putting on that phony hand-holding act. Stella gripped her bag, the one with the marriage license inside, and couldn't bite her tongue. "We haven't held hands in forever. It feels off to me." The car went dead quiet. She was right. Their physical closeness had dwindled so much that even she couldn't pinpoint the last time. Bradly's brow creased, and he snapped the cigarette filter clean off between his fingers. "What was that?" Stella met his eyes steadily. "From here on out, let's skip the pointless touchy-feely stuff. It just doesn't sit right." She hadn't even finished when the brakes screeched harshly. The car lurched to a halt on the empty shoulder of the road. Stella almost smacked into the window from the force, her pulse hammering as she barked, "Are you out of your mind?" Bradly loomed over her, fingers digging into her chin, irritation boiling in his glare. "Stella, do you have any idea what you're saying?" The pinch stung like crazy, and the absurdity of it all hit her as she wrestled to shove him off. "Is it not true? When's the last time we even held hands. Can you remember?" Bradly's gaze turned stormy, like she'd struck a raw spot. "I bet you're hung up on Milford, just like that girl from the second branch. That's why you pulled away in front of him. You're trying to cut ties with me?" "Bradly! What the hell are you babbling about?" Anger surged through her as she pushed harder. "Don't you dare pin your gross history on me!" The way the family had orbited Milford like he was the sun had obviously gotten under his skin. The more she resisted, the darker his look grew. Abruptly, he leaned in and smashed his mouth against hers. Stella's eyes flew wide, her head whipping aside to evade as she hammered at his shoulders with everything she had. He'd locked lips with Shanna god knows how often. The thought turned her stomach, so she clamped down and bit him hard. Bradly yelped in pain, jerking back as the fog cleared and he clocked what he'd just done, regret flashing across his face. Blood dotted his lip, but he brushed it off, lunging to wrap her in his arms. "I'm sorry, Stella, baby, I'm so sorry. I screwed up; it was a stupid impulse..." Drained of energy, Stella sagged into the passenger seat, letting him hold her while a barren wave of emptiness and revulsion washed over her. The hug she'd once melted into now repulsed her to her core. "Get off me." Her voice came out rough and scratchy. "Bradly, don't push me to hating you."
Chapter 1 Don't Want Him Anymore "I'm sorry, ma'am." On the other end of the line, the insurance customer service rep said coolly, "After checking our records, the car owner, Mr. Woodard, is indeed married, but the spouse listed here isn't you." Stella Daniels had gotten into a car accident on her way to the Woodard Group headquarters. She couldn't get through to Bradly Woodard on his phone, so she had no choice but to call the insurance company. The car was registered in Bradly's name, but as his wife, she should be able to process the claim too. "When Mr. Woodard picked up the car, he came with his wife and provided the original marriage license. Her last name is Erickson, and her full name is Shanna Erickson," the rep said. It hit Stella like a slap in the face. Dizziness washed over her in waves, leaving her whole body shaking uncontrollably. She and Bradly had been childhood sweethearts. Their families were old friends, and everyone in Ostralver's high society knew how clingy he was with her. Bradly couldn't stand being apart from her even for a single day. Three years ago, when Stella headed abroad for her studies, Bradly had the plane stopped just for her. During her three years in Ensland, he expanded his business overseas to make it easier to look after her. Sixteen thousand miles apart, he'd still fly across the ocean every week to see her. The year she came down with a severe lung illness and nearly didn't pull through, she spent a week in intensive care. Bradly ignored the infection risks and stayed right by her side, sliding a ring onto her finger. He said, "If anything happens to you, I'll go with you. We'll be husband and wife in the next life too." For Bradly's sake, she turned down her mentor's offer to stay on in the lab and headed back home. Brimming with excitement, she went to find him, planning to surprise him. But when she pushed open the door to the CEO's office, she saw a slender, pretty woman straddling his lap. The woman's innocent face tilted upward, her voice whiny and aggrieved. "Mr. Woodard, what happens to me now that Stella is back?" Bradly sat in his executive chair, his tall frame looming over her. A flash of ruthlessness crossed his stern features. "You? You're just her stand-in. Don't forget your place." He lifted his hand, pinching her delicate chin with a sneer. "Barely a three-out-of-ten resemblance, and you think you can compare to her?" Stella was still clutching the gift she'd prepared for him. With a loud "bang," it dropped to the floor, finally breaking the scene in the office. Bradly's face drained of color as he shoved the woman off and jumped to his feet. That woman was Shanna. After Stella caught them in the act, Bradly fired Shanna on the spot and pulled out all the stops to win her back. Bradly, the arrogant prince of Ostralver's elite circles, humbled himself to the dust before her, begging her to give him another chance. Any project she set her sights on, he'd drop without a second thought. He stood in the pouring rain outside her building for over a week, just for a glimpse of her. He said, "Stella, I'm not asking you to forgive me. At least let me explain. "I only ever saw Shanna as your replacement. You've been gone abroad for so long; I missed you terribly. I swear, I just kept her around. Nothing more ever happened between us. "That time you walked in, I'd had too much to drink, and she deliberately tempted me. I lost control for a moment... "I've already let her go, and she won't show up in our lives again. Stella, please, come back to me." Back then, Stella couldn't stand even the slightest betrayal. She insisted on breaking off the engagement. Until that one incident. She was kidnapped by a business rival. The kidnappers reneged on the deal, tied her up in an abandoned factory, and set the place ablaze. Bradly charged into the flames without a second thought to rescue her, shielding her from a collapsing steel beam. He ended up gravely injured, confined to bed for nearly six months. By risking his life, Bradly finally melted her resolve. Once he was out of the hospital, she accepted his proposal, and they threw a lavish wedding. In the two years since they tied the knot, he'd treated her just as devotedly as ever, with zero scandals. He even imposed a strict curfew on himself, heading home right on time every day. Even on out-of-town business trips, he'd video call her constantly. His partners would tease him about being henpecked. He never denied it. Instead, he'd grin proudly and say, "A real man takes care of his family." Memories rushed through Stella's mind like a whirlwind, every past moment flashing by in a blur. Her legs buckled, and she dropped to her knees, burying her face in her hands. She couldn't figure out which Bradly was the real one anymore. A bitter, mocking gleam sparked in her eyes. She thought, 'How absurd.' She'd been his wife for two years, and only now was she learning that even their marriage license had been a sham. Stella scrubbed her face hard, her bangs already soaked with cold sweat. She ignored the other driver's furious yelling and calmly dialed the police. They showed up fast. After finishing her statement, Stella left the station under a sky that had gone completely dark. Her phone lit up with several missed calls from Bradly. When she hadn't answered, he'd sent texts instead. Bradly: [Babe, I was tied up in a key meeting this afternoon. Signal jammers were on, so I missed your call. You okay?] Bradly: [I've got a client dinner tonight, so I'll be late getting home. I double-checked: no women involved, so no need to worry.] Bradly: [Head to bed early. Don't wait up. Love you.] Stella stared at the screen, a sharp wave of irony twisting in her gut. Bradly didn't stagger in until the wee hours. He reeked of alcohol, which almost, but not quite, masked the subtle whiff of perfume on him. "Honey..." He could barely keep his balance, stumbling over to wrap his arms around her through the blanket. "I missed you so damn much..." Stella didn't say a word. Only once he was dead to the world did she sit up quietly and unlock his phone with his fingerprint. The thing was squeaky clean, no suspicious traces at all. His contacts were mostly buddies and business folks, with hers pinned at the top as "Darling Wife." Flawlessly tidy, just like their sham of a marriage. Stella hooked the phone up to her computer, and it didn't take long to uncover his second WhatsApp account. She signed in, and right away, messages popped up from a profile with a cute pink kitten avatar, labeled "Baby." Shanna: [Bradly, thanks for tonight. Without you, I wouldn't have known what to do.] Shanna: [I've always thought meeting you was the luckiest thing that's ever happened to me. I won't intrude on your life. As long as you swing by to see me once in a while, that's enough to make me happy.] Stella scrolled back through the history. She'd suspected as much, but seeing it all laid out still hit her like a punch to the chest, leaving her breathless. They chatted nearly every day. Shanna never missed a good morning message, and Bradly's replies had shifted over time, from total silence at first, to sporadic responses, and now to answering every single one. A chill spread through her. Stella clutched the phone tighter, knowing she should quit while she was ahead but unable to stop herself from digging deeper. Shanna: [Bradly, sorry, I had a few drinks and lost it for a bit. Doc says I'm okay now, so don't stress.] Shanna: [Mrs. Woodard's birthday bash is important. Go enjoy it with her. I'll be fine.] Stella squeezed her eyes shut as the memory came rushing back. Her birthday. Bradly had spent over a month planning it down to the last detail, but that day, he was totally distracted. Hell, he almost cut his own hand while slicing the cake. When she'd asked what was up, he'd brushed it off as work drama, told her not to worry, then pulled her into a soft embrace and encouraged her to blow out the candles and make a wish. It all made sense now, as she stared at this chat log. That same day, Shanna had tried to kill herself by slashing her wrists and ended up in the ER. A sour bitterness flooded her chest like a rising tide. In those brief seconds when she'd closed her eyes to wish, she wondered, 'Was he agonizing over Shanna in the hospital, or picturing endless years together with her?' Stella knew she didn't need an answer to that anymore. She gently placed the phone back and looked down at Bradly, fast asleep beside her. She'd known him since she was four, and for the twenty years that followed, she'd truly believed his love was hers alone, irreplaceable. But now she saw it for what it was: just cheap free samples at a store, handed out to anyone who walked by. If that was all it amounted to, she was done with it. Chapter 2 Bid Against Her The next day, Stella woke to find Bradly busy in the kitchen, his broad shoulders narrowing to a slim waist, his tall, lean build moving with purpose. The sight hit her hard, a dull ache tightening in her chest. Bradly had learned to cook entirely for her sake. She still remembered that turbulent period when the Woodard Group was in crisis. His rivals had targeted her, paying off a servant to poison her food. She'd been unconscious for three full days. When she finally woke, Bradly was there, his eyes red-rimmed and veined with exhaustion, gripping her hand like a lifeline. The instant she stirred, the imposing Bradly crumbled forward, enveloping her in a hug as scalding tears fell onto her skin. From then on, Bradly threw himself into cooking lessons, taking charge of all her meals. In less than a month, he'd gone from a spoiled elite who couldn't distinguish spices to turning out dishes worthy of a Michelin chef. Just then, his phone rang. Stella glanced at it but made no move to answer. Bradly darted out of the kitchen, apron still on, grabbing the phone with a barely concealed flash of anxiety. Stella pretended not to notice and went to wash up. When she came back, the table was set with breakfast, and he was slipping into his suit jacket from the coat rack. Seeing her, he said gently, "There's an emergency at work. I have to run. Sorry I can't join you for breakfast." Stella murmured, "Sure, work comes first." He was clearly in a hurry, because he didn't pick up on the new edge of cool distance in her tone and rushed out. She stared blankly after him until he was gone, then dumped the entire spread into the trash. Then she picked up her phone and dialed a number. "That offer you made before? I'm on board." The person on the other end erupted in delight, chattering away before shifting to broken Andosa Language. "Stella, why the sudden change of heart? I've bugged you about this so many times, and you always said you were married now and focusing on family." A mocking glint flickered in Stella's eyes. She thought, 'Married? This so-called marriage has been dead on arrival.' The caller was her former mentor from her overseas studies. He'd reached out lately, hoping she'd join his new team and spearhead a major project. At the time, she'd kept saying no out of loyalty to Bradly. Now, she only wished she'd seen through the absurd joke of their marriage earlier. After the call, she contacted immigration to schedule a passport renewal. It would take about a week. But before heading out, she had one loose end to tie up. That evening, Stella showed up at a private auction at the Cloud Hotel. She was after one of her mother's keepsakes. Her mom had died when she was eight, and soon after, the Daniels family had liquidated her wedding gift. Stella had been hunting down the items ever since. Over the years, she'd only reclaimed a few. Tonight's auction featured a bracelet from that collection, one her mother had picked up on a trip to Ijance. It was utterly unique, irreplaceable. Whatever it took, she was getting it back. Stella settled into her seat just as the auction was about to start. She was flipping through the catalog when Bradly's voice floated over. "Didn't I already pick out that royal blue sapphire set for you? Not good enough?" His voice carried that familiar tenderness. Shanna linked her arm with his, pouting playfully. "Your taste sucks! I want to pick my own birthday gift." Stella watched them quietly until Bradly threaded through the guests and their gazes collided by chance. The color drained from his face. On pure reflex, he jerked his arm away from Shanna. "Stella." He strode over quickly. "I tried calling you a few times, but you didn't answer. Were you planning to surprise me?" Even though he tried to play it cool, she could still catch that subtle hint of panic in his expression. Stella didn't bother calling him on it, replying evenly, "My phone was on silent. I didn't hear it." Bradly visibly relaxed, casually taking her hand in his with a look of concern. "Your hands are like ice. Didn't I warn you about the cold snap today? You're always putting style over staying warm. If you catch a chill, you know it'll just kill me." As he talked, he signaled a server for a blanket and draped it snugly around her shoulders. Stella kept a straight face, brushing him off as she looked past him to Shanna, who lingered behind with a scowl. Shanna nibbled her lip, then defiantly dropped into the seat next to Bradly, her gaze simmering with irritation. Bradly leaned closer, dropping his voice to explain, "We just wrapped up a major project at the company, and Shanna pulled her weight big time. Her birthday's around the corner, so I thought I'd treat her to something as a project bonus." He eyed her anxiously. "Stella, you're not mad, right?" Shanna piped up in a soft, vulnerable tone. "Mrs. Woodard, if this upsets you, I'll just go. I don't want to get in the way of you and Mr. Woodard." Stella's mouth quirked into a smile that never touched her eyes. "We're married. A little thing like this? Of course it doesn't bother me." The auction got underway shortly after. Bradly treated Shanna like she was invisible, focusing entirely on Stella. He paged through the catalog, throwing in bids left and right. "Babe, this would look amazing on you." He grinned, tenderly brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his tone warm and intimate. "You'd be gorgeous in it." Stella averted her eyes, but out of the corner of her vision, she saw Shanna discreetly clutching the edge of Bradly's jacket in the dim light. Their gazes locked for a split second in a shared, lingering look. She masked the derision in her own eyes, struck by how absurd it all was. Bradly seemed totally at ease juggling both women, convinced he was keeping things balanced, one with the official status, the other with his undivided public attention. She thought, 'What could be fairer than that?' But Stella had never been interested in that kind of equilibrium. Her world extended far beyond romance. Bradly? He was just a small detour on her path, a misstep she'd own up to. And now, it was time to set things right. "Next up: a string of bracelet. Fine-grained texture, deep aroma that lingers. Starting bid at 170,000 dollars, with increments of at least 20,000 dollars!" The auctioneer's pumped-up voice echoed through the room. Finally, Stella's main target for the evening. Bids flew in fast, the screen flickering with updates as the auctioneer called out, "Number 17 lady at 200,000 dollars! Number 9 gentleman ups it to 260,000 dollars! Going higher?" Once the initial frenzy tapered off, Stella lifted her paddle. "500,000 dollars." She'd doubled the current bid in one go. It was a hefty amount. Sure, the bracelet was top-notch, but it wasn't the auction's highlight. The room went quiet after her call; no one countered. "Fantastic! Number 11 lady at 500,000 dollars! "500,000 dollars once! 500,000 dollars twice!" The auctioneer hoisted his gavel, poised to bring it down. "No more bids? Then 500,000 dollars—" "520,000 dollars," A gentle, hesitant voice interrupted. Shanna shrank against Bradly's side, paddle in hand, murmuring timidly to him, "Is this where I put in the amount?" Chapter 3 You're Dirty Stella frowned and raised her bid. "540,000 dollars." But Shanna was right behind her, countering with, "560,000 dollars." How annoyingly precise, each time, she stuck to the bare minimum, slapping on just 20,000 dollars more than Stella's offer. Shanna turned toward her, her voice dripping with plea. "Stella, you've got plenty of jewelry already. Please, let me have this one. I adore it. "I'm not like you, born with money, everything handed to you on a silver platter. You snap your fingers and get whatever you want. If it goes any higher, I really won't be able to keep up." Stella didn't bother looking at her, just quirking her lips in a thin smile. "Isn't Mr. Woodard covering the cost for you? What are you stressing about?" Shanna's face went a shade paler, but she answered in that soft, demure tone, "Even so, Mr. Woodard earns his money the hard way. If I can save him a bit, I ought to." She was the epitome of considerate and caring. After several more back-and-forth bids, the bracelet's price had soared to 700,000 dollars. Stella let out a chilly scoff and was opening her mouth to up the ante when Bradly beat her to it. He said, "Babe, why don't we just let Shanna take this bracelet?" Stella's fingers curled into a tight fist, her nails biting into her palm. She lifted her gaze, any lingering warmth in her eyes turning to ice. "What did you just say?" Bradly let out a resigned sigh, giving her hand a comforting pat as he murmured gently, "Babe, I already told Shanna she'd get a gift tonight, and she's got her heart set on this one. No need to compete with her. "Plus, I've already snagged you a handful of other pieces. Isn't that plenty?" He said it all lightly, teasingly, as if it were nothing more than a harmless quip. Stella shut her eyes, a nameless sourness creeping along her nerves, coiling around her heart until it felt like she couldn't draw a breath. Given Shanna's modest background, 700,000 dollars was way out of her league. She wouldn't even make the guest list here on her own. The only reason she was in that seat, trading bids blow for blow, was Bradly's backing. His pampering had delivered her straight into Stella's path. Stella whispered, "What if I refuse to back down?" She hoisted her paddle once more, her voice echoing through the room. "1 million dollars." A hush blanketed the hall. The auctioneer clearly picked up on the drama, his delivery faltering. "Number eleven at 1 million dollars. Do I hear higher?" Shanna's eyes welled up, on the verge of tears, as she cast a helpless look at Bradly before tacking on another fifty thousand. "1 million 20 thousand dollars." Stella's features hardened to frost, and she was poised to fire back when the manager bustled over, bending close to murmur, "Mrs. Woodard, apologies. We ran a credit verification on your account, and it's frozen. Got another one we can use?" The words slammed into her like a bolt from the blue, ringing in her ears. She snapped her head toward Bradly, but he'd already looked away. An icy numbness spread through her arms and legs. She though,t 'Of course, it has to be him.' Her primary account was linked with his; besides her, only he could authorize a freeze on her cards. Triumph flickered in Shanna's eyes as she added with a pointed edge, "Well, in that case, Mrs. Woodard, maybe it's time to step aside. You've got so much already. Can't you let me have this one little thing?" Up on stage, the auction rolled on, the display frozen on Shanna's latest bid: 1 million 20 thousand dollars. Shanna could hardly hide her glee, chirping sweetly, "Go on, call it!" But the words had barely left her lips when someone announced he would bid for the lot at any costs right in the second-floor VIP suite. After a momentary silence, the room burst into chaos. "He's declared absolute intent!" Even the auctioneer's expression changed. He'd been in the game for over a decade, but this was his first encounter with such a scenario. He hurriedly called out, "Lot number six goes to the gentleman in box 217, regardless of how high the price goes." Anyone up in those second-floor VIP suites was either swimming in money or held serious sway in Ostralver's upper crust. Stella glanced upward toward the source of the voice, catching only a vague outline behind the draped curtains. Even when she couldn't see his face, the man's crossed-legged posture radiated an unspoken dominance that pressed down on the room. The auctioneer slammed his gavel down with finality, proclaiming, "Congratulations to our esteemed guest in box 217 on winning lot number six! You're now upgraded to black gold status!" Across all of Ostralver's elite scene, fewer than a handful had ever hit black gold level at these events. Stella wondered, 'Just who is this mystery man?' Stella loosened her clenched fist slightly, torn between relief that her mother's heirloom hadn't landed in Shanna's clutches and anxiety over reclaiming it from this unknown figure. No matter what, she'd stop at nothing, pay any price, to bring her mother's possession home. She rose to her feet, intent on marching over to box 217 for a chat, when the attendant who'd just ducked inside reappeared, tray in hand with the bracelet. "What's this? The bidder in 217 having second thoughts?" "Auctions don't do take-backs." "Probably short on funds. I called it. No one's done this here before." As the murmurs swirled, the attendant headed straight for Stella, dipping into a courteous bow with a warm smile. She said, "Mrs. Woodard, the gentleman in box 217 requests that I deliver the bracelet to you as a gift. He wishes for you to follow your true path and for all to unfold as it should." The place erupted in gossip once more, with guests shooting glances her way, some envious, others skeptical, many flat-out stunned. "Isn't that Mrs. Woodard? What's her deal with the upstairs guy?" "Likely just buttering up Mr. Woodard." "Nah, I don't buy it. Out of all the goodies tonight, why zero in on those beads for Mrs. Woodard? Sounds like she's got a real connection there." The buzz filtered through, and Bradly's face turned stone-cold. In a tight, edged voice, he demanded, "Stella, what's the story with you and whoever's in box 217?" Stella held his piercing stare and said flatly, "I have no idea who he is." "!" Bradly jumped up, clamping down on her wrist like a vice. Her soft, fair skin reddened almost instantly under the pressure. Stella winced sharply, jerking her arm back on reflex. "Bradly, have you lost your mind? Haven't you stirred up enough drama for one day?" But he barreled on, blind to her fury, his reddened eyes locked on her as if he could swallow her up. "What's really between you two? "Stella, through all our married years, I've bent over backward for you. Anything you desired, I served it up without question. Why would you betray me like this?" In his mind, it was already a done deal: she was entangled in something shady with the man above. If the guy was angling for a favor from him, Bradly would've recognized him right away. People in Ostralver didn't beat around the bush when they needed something from him. They came direct. The jab landed raw and direct. Bradly blinked, frozen for a beat as a flicker of alarm shot through his eyes. Chapter 4 Don't Know You'd Come Bradly said, "I'm sorry, Stella. I didn't mean it like that. I had no right getting jealous over you and some stranger. It's all on me." Bradly's eyes reddened. "But honestly, there's nothing going on between Shanna and me. I just brought her along as a thank-you. Can you let this slide?" Seeing his cue, Shanna ducked her head meekly, her voice catching. "That's right, Mrs. Woodard. I've been bending over backward to keep my distance from Mr. Woodard so you wouldn't get the wrong impression. "I'm not asking for the world, just a decent birthday gift. I didn't grow up with your advantages; you've had everything handed to you and even snagged a catch like Mr. Woodard. Can't I at least pick out something for myself?" "Just a gift, huh?" Stella closed in on her, one step at a time. "Ms. Erickson, I've never given a damn about this 'gift' you're going on about. What gets under my skin is you, a Woodard Group employee, crossing lines you have no business crossing." As they drew closer, Bradly instinctively stepped in front of Shanna, his voice soft and coaxing. "Stella, if it's bugging you this much, I'll transfer her to a branch office once the auction's over. "But for now, cut me some slack. Let Shanna have the bracelet. When we get home, name your price on anything, and it's yours." Shanna bobbed her head in agreement, tears glistening on her lashes as she pleaded, "Stella, I really adore this bracelet. You've got it all already. Why go after the one thing I want? "Or is this just because you hate my guts and can't resist taking shots at me?" "What makes you think I'd ever like you?" Stella let out a cold snort. "This belonged to me from the start. Why the hell would I give it up?" She took the bracelet from the attendant with casual ease, her smile sharp but empty. "Ms. Erickson, know your place." Her refusal to budge finally wore through Bradly's patience, erasing every bit of softness from his face. "Stella, do you have to humiliate me like this in front of everyone? Where does that leave my dignity? "It's just a crappy old bracelet. Am I really worth less to you than some trinket?" He said it with such conviction, as if he'd wiped from his memory the solemn vow he'd made when proposing: that he'd hunt down every single one of her mother's sold-off keepsakes, no matter what. Stella's hand flew up, delivering a resounding slap across his cheek. The sharp crack rang out, pulling shocked stares from every corner of the room. Bradly's head snapped sideways, his face livid as he fixed her with a glare, his words hissing through clenched teeth. "Stella, drop the drama already. Have I pampered you too much these days, turning you into this unreasonable nightmare?" Stella reined in her temper, keeping her tone even. "Bradly, you better not live to regret today." Without another word, she turned and walked out, not sparing a backward glance. As her figure receded, Shanna gently touched the angry red mark on Bradly's cheek, her voice full of worry. "Mr. Woodard, are you okay? "Stella's got no boundaries. How could she hit you with all these people watching?" Bradly swatted her hand aside, his nails digging into his palm as he stared after her retreating path. "I've spoiled her rotten, letting her forget that everything she has comes from me." Shanna peeked at his changing expression, testing the waters. "Mr. Woodard, about the bracelet..." Bradly rubbed his throbbing cheek, pulled a bank card from his pocket, and handed it over. "1.7 million dollars on there. Buy whatever catches your eye." Box 217, Stella rapped on the door, eager to thank the mystery bidder face-to-face. Silence. She caught a server walking by. "Excuse me, any idea where the gentleman from this box headed?" "He slipped out right after nabbing the last item," the server said. Disappointment flashed in her eyes, but Stella pressed on, "Do you know who he was?" The server gave her a regretful smile. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard, we're not allowed to spill on our VIPs. Don't make this harder for us." Catching herself, Stella moved out of the way. "Thanks all the same." By the time she made it home from the auction, an hour had ticked by. Stella went straight up to the study, fired up the computer, and dove into the assets registered under her and Bradly's names. After tallying up the numbers, she snatched her phone, found lawyer Rubin Cobb's contact, and hit dial. She said, "I've sorted out the asset division documents for me and Bradly and sent them over. I need you to handle the property split by tomorrow." Rubin quickly received the files and nodded respectfully. "Of course, Mrs. Woodard. I'll get right on it." Stella stared intently at her computer screen, her grip tightening on the mouse. "If Bradly's committed bigamy, how should our assets be divided?" "Generally, any property the bigamous party gained through the bigamy can be claimed back by the other spouse," Rubin replied matter-of-factly. Half of Bradly's current wealth had come from Stella's investments to support his career early on. Her expression darkened, and she promptly forwarded the marriage license between him and Shanna. "Rubin, please use every legal avenue to recover my half of the assets." After hanging up, Stella slumped back in her chair, utterly drained physically and emotionally. She closed her eyes slowly, but sleep was nowhere in sight. Bradly would never agree to a divorce. Until she had everything locked down, she couldn't let on that anything was amiss. Just then, the study door was kicked open from the outside. Bradly flung his jacket onto the desk and yanked Stella up from her seat in front of the computer. "Do you realize that because of your little outburst, I've become a laughingstock in our circles? "What exactly do you want? Are you still obsessing over what happened back then?" Stella opened her eyes slowly, her gaze settling calmly on Bradly, but she remained silent. A fire raged in Bradly's chest, intensifying by the second, and he couldn't hold back his fury any longer. "Since we got married, have I ever done anything to wrong you? I come home right on time every night after work, I always fill you in on any business dinners, and if there's even a hint of a woman involved, I skip them entirely! I've bent over backward, and it's still not good enough for you?" He remembered every detail crystal clear. In his mind, these were the sacrifices he'd made to marry her. Stella suddenly found the whole thing absurd. She couldn't bear to look at him anymore, so she stood up and walked straight out of the study without a backward glance. Behind her, Bradly's voice echoed heavily. "Stella, no matter what you think, my conscience is clear." It felt like Stella's heart had been shattered into icy fragments, a sharp, bitter pain surging through her. Her mind buzzed, and for a moment, all she could hear was that phrase repeating over and over. She thought, 'My conscience is clear? So, in his eyes, everything he's done is perfectly justifiable.' The next morning, when Stella woke up, Bradly was already gone. On the table sat the breakfast he'd prepared, tailored exactly to her tastes. Stella pressed her lips together, her feelings a complicated tangle. They'd ended things on a sour note last night, yet Bradly had still made her breakfast this morning. But this was the same man who'd lied to her for years. No matter what, it was time to end things with Bradly. She didn't touch the food and headed straight to the office. These past few years, she'd stayed out of Bradly's business dealings. A lot of her old financial records were outdated now, and she needed the latest reports. The secretary looked startled when she saw her, then managed to say, "Mrs. Woodard, are you here to see Mr. Woodard?" "No." Stella replied evenly. "Send the finance manager in to see me." Her shares were second only to Bradly's, giving her full access to every aspect of the company. The secretary hesitated briefly before nodding. Stella noticed her immediately turning to make a phone call, probably alerting Bradly. Stella didn't intervene; let her. She settled into the finance office, sipping her coffee absentmindedly while flipping through magazines on the shelf. Most were glossy entertainment rags, mixed in with novels and comics. Stella frowned, only now picking up on the details: the desk was covered in a pink plaid mat, cluttered with adorable plush toys. The standout pair was a set of couple dolls, their outfits emblazoned with the letters W and E. It hit Stella suddenly what that meant, and just then, the door behind her swung open. Shanna rushed in. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard." She was clutching a cup of coffee as she apologized. "I had no idea you'd drop by like this..." Chapter 5 All For Milford Stella arched an eyebrow as she looked her over. "So you're the finance manager?" Shanna nodded with a quick smile. "That's me. If you need anything at all, just say the word. Bradly, well, Mr. Woodard is tied up in a meeting right now. But don't worry, I'll make sure to relay whatever message you have." Stella let out a soft laugh. "No need for that." She regarded Shanna with clear curiosity. "I'm not looking for Bradly. I'm here to see you." Shanna's smile faltered for a moment before she recovered, her tone turning gentle. "Mrs. Woodard, I get that you're still bothered by what went down at the auction last night, but there's no reason to be so worked up about my connection to Mr. Woodard. After all..." She raised her hand, the elegant diamond ring on her finger glinting under the light, perfectly complementing her bashful grin. "I'm already married, and things are great between me and my husband." Stella's eyes locked on the ring, her breath hitching just for an instant. It was ridiculous. In this whole messed-up situation, she was the one playing the role of the mistress. The ring was an exact match for the one Bradly had given her during his proposal. But within seconds, Stella averted her gaze. "It's a lovely ring, but you're mistaken." She spoke unhurriedly, "I'm just here to grab the latest financial report from you. That's all." Stella caught the sour shift in Shanna's expression and smiled to herself. "Seems like you're the one on edge here, Ms. Erickson." Shanna's face transformed completely, that smug spark in her eyes snuffed out. She bit her lip, unable to find words for a long beat. Stella watched her with unruffled poise. "Do I need to repeat my request, Ms. Erickson?" The words had barely left her mouth when Bradly burst in, his expression clouding over at the sight. "Stella, wasn't the scene from last night enough?" His voice was laced with ice. "How long are you planning to drag this out? I've told you already. There's nothing going on between me and Shanna. If you don't believe me..." Stella interrupted him mid-sentence, "Oh, I believe you. Absolutely." A faint smirk tugged at her lips, though her eyes remained frosty as they settled on Shanna. "After all, Ms. Erickson's already married. She just mentioned it herself." The statement landed like a bomb. Shanna's face drained of color, and Bradly's followed suit. He shot her a withering glare. Tears sprang to Shanna's eyes in an instant. Stella had no interest in watching the drama unfold any further. She said evenly, "I'm here for this year's financials. I hold forty percent of the company. Surely I can access that, right?" Bradly seemed to snap back to reality, nodding hastily. "Of course you can." He barked orders at the secretary to fetch it immediately, all the while stealing wary glances at her face. Once he confirmed she wasn't giving anything away, he exhaled almost imperceptibly in relief. He said, "Stella, what's with the sudden interest? You've never bothered with company matters before." Stella answered coolly, "After the account freeze last night, I decided it's smarter to set up a separate one." Bradly's expression froze again. "Stella..." The secretary returned promptly with the report. Stella brushed Bradly aside, skimmed through it quickly, and was heading for the door when he caught her by the wrist. He said, "Stella, about the family dinner tonight, are you coming home with me?" His tone was pleading, like he needed her answer to reassure himself that she hadn't caught on to anything fishy. Stella didn't look back, just replying calmly, "Sure." Bradly's face lit up. "Great, I'll swing by after work to pick you up." Stella dropped her gaze, masking the cool detachment in her eyes. She'd only agreed to head back to the family estate for one specific reason. The marriage license from when she and Bradly had tied the knot was a phony, but he'd made a whole production out of stashing it away at the house, claiming it had to be kept secure. Nothing could serve as stronger proof. Once she got her hands on it, his bigamy would be ironclad. Stella didn't bother waiting for Bradly; she hailed a cab and got there ahead of time. She'd figured it was just a standard family gathering, but she was caught off guard by the full turnout. Bradly's parents, fresh from their overseas vacation last week, were back, and even the distant relatives from the Woodard family's side branches had shown up en masse. "Stella, dear." As she walked in, Nadine Woodard peered over her shoulder. "Bradly didn't come with you?" Stella answered evenly, "He'll be along shortly." Nadine clicked her tongue, her irritation obvious. "On an important occasion like this, letting someone from outside the family arrive solo, what's got into him?" Stella's brow furrowed just a touch. She and Bradly had been engaged since childhood, but after her mother's passing, the Daniels family's status had tanked while the Woodard family kept climbing. That was when Nadine started pushing to scrap the arrangement, and she'd mentioned it more than a few times. But Chuck Woodard was upright and principled, flat-out refusing to play the social-climbing game. With Bradly dead set on marrying her and no one else, Nadine had reluctantly given in, though she made her resentment clear. Even after the marriage, she never passed up an opportunity to give Stella the cold shoulder. She was about to add something else when the butler rushed in and murmured, "He's here." Nadine promptly dropped the subject with Stella and jumped to her feet, the extended family hustling out right behind her to welcome the arrivals. The level of pomp surprised Stella. The Woodard family was already at the top of Ostralver's social elite. For them to pull out all the stops like this... Standing at the edge of the group, Stella glanced up and saw a black Maybach rolling up to the front of the estate. Someone hurried forward to open the door respectfully, and a tall, imposing figure stepped out unhurriedly. The man wore a sleek black suit, his chiseled features sharp, eyes as midnight, radiating a fierce intensity. Every gesture exuded a natural poise and authority that made it tough to hold his stare. The crowd swarmed forward in a rush, but he stayed cool and detached the whole time, his stunningly handsome face as impassive as carved ice, showing zero emotion. Then, as if picking up on something, he looked up toward Stella. Their eyes locked unexpectedly, sending her heart pounding. It was Milford Woodard, Bradly's brother. He'd returned to the country. Though they were brothers in name, Milford wasn't all that tight with the family. He'd headed overseas young and had spent years growing the business abroad. His father Edward Woodard was a total lightweight, good only at spending cash, not earning it. His grandpa Chuck had the smarts and drive, but age was catching up, leaving him unable to manage it all. Real power over the Woodard family had shifted to Milford ages ago. Stella let out a quiet breath. She thought, 'That explains the big crowd today. They've all turned out for Milford.' Chapter 6 Need Help? Stella lingered in the corner of the living room, watching the relatives descend like a swarm of locusts, all scrambling to surround Milford. Bradly stood next to Nadine, flashing a polished smile as he greeted, "Hey, Milford." The uncles who'd been buttering up Bradly just a minute ago quickly switched gears, beaming with over-the-top enthusiasm as they stepped up to say hello. "Milford, what prompted the sudden return?" "Milford, I hear you're in the middle of acquiring a domestic company? You're just getting more impressive by the day." "Come on inside, take a seat. We've got some top-shelf coffee." Bradly caught the stark contrast in the uncles' warmth, his smile fading briefly before he pulled it together and led the way forward. Stella quietly eyed the tall, strikingly handsome Milford striding into the living room like the star of the show, instinctively edging back a step. Now fully pushed to the fringes of the crowd, she shifted aside to let the trailing group pass, doing everything she could to blend into the wallpaper. Milford approached steadily. Unlike Bradly's flashy, outgoing vibe, he had a more brooding, aloof kind of handsomeness, like a pine tree blanketed in snow, regal and intimidating. He acknowledged the flattery around him with simple nods, his eyes scanning the room casually, subtly taking stock of everyone there. Until his gaze swept over Stella again, and he came to an abrupt halt. He paused, causing Bradly to stop too. "Something wrong, Milford?" Milford didn't respond, his steady gaze fixed on Stella. It was only a look, but it jolted her to her core. She felt an odd sense of being claimed, uninvited. Yet she'd barely crossed paths with Milford before. Bradly and the others traced his stare, his eyebrow quirking up. "Stella, come say hi to Big Milford." Stella started to step forward, but Milford beat her to it, walking straight toward her. Bradly and the rest exchanged surprised glances. So far, everyone had been approaching Milford. He hadn't initiated with a soul. Milford's deep eyes gave nothing away. "Stella?" Her breath hitched, like a faint breeze had brushed her ear. She hadn't anticipated him coming over to chat. It had been years, and they'd only met once or twice, but he still remembered her. Stella nodded. "Milford, it's been ages—" Before she could finish, Milford held out his hand. The move was so casual, so natural. Out of pure reflex and politeness, Stella extended hers, their palms connecting. In that brief clasp, she felt him squeeze gently, his thumb settling on her fingers and grazing them with a warm intensity. Milford released after just a second. Suddenly, Bradly sidled up, drawing Stella into his side with an arm around her waist, lacing his fingers through her left hand. He said, "Milford, how long are you in town this time? Stella and I can take you out to dinner one of these days." Milford took in their cozy pose, his glance dropping to their intertwined hands. "About a month." The words had barely left his mouth when Chuck came down the stairs, leaning on the butler for support. Milford headed over to talk with him. Not long after, the kitchen called that the party was ready. Stella trailed Bradly to their seats on the left side of the main table. Everyone filed in and sat. As the eldest branch, the two Woodard brothers took priority. Chuck claimed the head of the main table, with Nadine and Milford next in line. Stella and Bradly fell further down the order, landing her right across from Milford on the diagonal. The family feast got underway, with everyone firing questions at Milford about what he'd been up to lately. Stella kept her head down, nibbling at her food while catching bits of the conversation. Zrester bigwig, major stakeholder in Wonder Group, founder of that financial exchange and the smart transportation AI... Milford's credentials were endless and mind-blowing. She thought back to that Zrester party invite list she'd snagged years ago. Milford was third from the top, while she languished at the bottom. In all these years, she'd had next to no interaction with him. Right after the wedding, this mysterious Milford had only shown up once. He dropped off a gift and vanished. In just a handful of years, Milford had climbed to the pinnacle of Zrester's power players. His talent was obvious. Before long, the family party wound down, and folks scattered to grab desserts. Still hung up on that marriage license, Stella excused herself to head upstairs for a coat change. Bradly was itching to chat with Milford, his gaze fixed that way as he muttered distractedly, "Yeah, go on up." Stella wasted no time hustling upstairs. With the crowd milling about downstairs, she slipped to the third floor of the villa and nudged open Bradly's bedroom door. There it was: the glaring marriage license perched right on top of the nightstand, framed, flanked by their wedding portrait. As she stepped closer, memories of Bradly's cozy moments with Shanna flooded her brain, her nails digging slowly into her palm. That license seared her eyes, like it was sneering at her gullibility. She never should've caved, never should've handed Bradly a second shot. It just went to show that people's hearts circled back for seconds. Disgust flickered in her eyes as she hauled the desk's computer chair over, the kind with wheels and a swivel, shaky at best. She climbed onto it, planting one foot on the bed for stability, teetering just enough to hold steady. Stella hiked up her pearl-white knee-length dress a bit and stretched upward slowly. Fingers extended to the max, but she was still a couple inches shy. She rose onto her tiptoes, straining, but no dice. Frowning from her perch, she scanned around and snagged a book from beside the cabinet. As she leaned down, footsteps suddenly echoed outside the door. Fast, but measured. A man's, for sure. Her pulse spiked. She clutched the table, scrambling to hop down, but, perfect timing, her other sleeve caught on the cabinet's edge. She tugged frantically to break free, but it was too late to descend. The door flew open out of nowhere. Stella went rigid, her knees giving way as she toppled backward off the chair. A quick yelp escaped her, but the expected crash never hit. A firm hand latched precisely onto her thigh, another banding around her waist, hauling her into a solid hold and planting her feet firmly on the floor. She slammed into a warm, toned chest, a crisp, grounding sandalwood aroma enveloping her, not Bradly's scent. Stella glanced up, nearly clipping the guy's chin. Milford let go right away, backing off a step to give her space. Her cheeks burned, the thigh he'd gripped feeling like it was on fire. Mortified and frozen, she stammered, "Th-thanks." Milford stayed composed, his eyes skimming her flushed face and the pinkened patch of skin on her thigh from his hold. His Adam's apple dipped subtly. "Didn't realize you were in here. My bad." Stella shook her head, even more flustered. She was the one imposing on him. Milford flicked a glance upward. "Need some help?" She looked too. Up top, the marriage license screamed for attention. Chapter 7 Don't Let Me Hate You Stella just came out with it. "I want to get the marriage license down." Milford hesitated for a beat, without probing why she needed it, and slid the chair out of the way. Tall and long-limbed, he barely had to tip up on his toes to snag it effortlessly. Milford skimmed the lettering on the license, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes before the faintest quirk tugged at his lips, almost undetectable. He passed it over to Stella. "Ah, I see." She missed the words, taking it with a soft murmur: "Thanks, Milford." Her palms were slick with sweat now, but holding the certificate still sent an icy shiver through her. Those bold letters were a brutal reminder. This whole marriage had been one big joke. From beginning to end, Bradly's grand performance of undying love had always had a third wheel in the shadows. Milford dropped his gaze. Towering over her, all he could make out was the neat swirl at the top of her head, round and oddly appealing. Those slim, pale hands gripped the certificate like a vise, completely bloodless. Milford asked offhandedly, "So, what's the marriage license for?" "Oh, I just want to bring it home and store it there," Stella shot back, pulling an excuse out of thin air. Milford's stare felt like it enveloped her, the heat of it almost scorching, though he kept his hands to himself. Then he casually adjusted his cufflinks and turned to go. Stella let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, sagging against the cool cabinet. Her thigh still tingled with warmth from his grip; she quickly smoothed her skirt down, tucked the license into her bag, and only left the room once everything looked undisturbed. Bradly was still out in the back garden, deep in conversation. Stella kept her face neutral, strolling over to stand at his side. A few relatives were chatting with him. "Hey, word is Milford actually got back a couple days ago, but only tipped us off today." Bradly looked taken aback. "I thought he was flying in today?" "Nope, sounds like he hit up some auction. I only heard bits and pieces, supposedly the other night at the Empire Auction House." "He must not have gone. I was there that evening too, and I didn't see him anywhere," Bradly said, frowning in confusion. Stella's eyelashes flickered subtly, but she played it cool. Out of nowhere, her mind jumped back to that enigmatic bidder in suite 217. She wondered, 'Could Milford be the mystery guest who got the bracelet for me?' She shoved the thought down as soon as it surfaced. They'd only crossed paths once, total strangers really, connected by the flimsiest in-law tie. No matter how you sliced it, Milford wouldn't stick his neck out for her. Just like Bradly said, he hadn't caught wind of anything, so it couldn't be Milford. Stella let it go. After some more mingling, the group started to break up. Bradly steered her over to bid farewell to Milford. "Mom, Milford, we're taking off. Let's set up a family dinner soon when things settle." Milford slouched back in his chair with effortless nonchalance and gave a nod. "I'm knee-deep in an acquisition, no hurry on the get-together. But you..." He lifted his head, his expression sharpening. "Keep your life on the straight and narrow. Don't veer off track." The edge of warning in his voice was crystal clear. Bradly had grown up overshadowed by Milford; he went rigid but brushed it off casually. "Come on, everything's good. My company's running smooth as ever. If you're skeptical, drop by anytime and pore over the financials—knock yourself out." "It's not just about the company," Milford said softly, eyes down as he savored a sip of coffee. Stella couldn't help stealing a glance at him, and in that instant, a ridiculous idea struck her. From what Bradly had mentioned, Milford was abroad most of the time but still had the inside scoop on everything back home. She wondered, 'Does he know about the shady stuff Bradly is up to on the sly?' "Milford, I hear you. I'll make sure to nurture my marriage with Stella, our whole life together." Bradly grinned, threading his fingers through Stella's. Milford's gaze lingered on their joined hands for a second before drifting away, sealed with a subtle nod. Stella had no desire for any more close contact with Bradly, so she subtly shook his hand free without thinking. A split second later, his disbelieving stare locked onto her face, and he tried to grab her again. She'd known her move would humiliate him in the moment, so she didn't bother saying goodbye to Milford. She just turned and walked out ahead. Once they slid into the car, Bradly shed his polite, deferential mask from earlier, reverting to his entitled rich-kid swagger. He tugged his tie loose, a flicker of annoyance pinching his brows. "Always playing the big-brother card to chew me out, same crap since we were little. "So what if he's crushing it overseas? I'm holding my own just fine back home. Who in Ostralver would even think about messing with me?" Bradly fished out a menthol cigarette on autopilot, ready to light up, but he caught himself after glancing at Stella and shoved it back. He said, "All these years, folks have been whispering, or saying it straight to my face, that my company's thriving because of his pull. Like he's behind every damn thing. "And you? You flat-out refused to let me hold your hand back there. Trying to make me look like an idiot in front of him?" His expression iced over, the edge in his voice impossible to miss. Stella's frown deepened as she took it in. Even without knowing Milford all that well, she understood that Bradly's cocky antics in Ostralver, brushing people off like they were nothing, had always been propped up by Milford's clout. She'd assumed the brothers were tight, but clearly Bradly's respect was just for show; underneath, his grudge against Milford simmered deep. She could overlook a lot, but with things the way they were now, there was zero point in him putting on that phony hand-holding act. Stella gripped her bag, the one with the marriage license inside, and couldn't bite her tongue. "We haven't held hands in forever. It feels off to me." The car went dead quiet. She was right. Their physical closeness had dwindled so much that even she couldn't pinpoint the last time. Bradly's brow creased, and he snapped the cigarette filter clean off between his fingers. "What was that?" Stella met his eyes steadily. "From here on out, let's skip the pointless touchy-feely stuff. It just doesn't sit right." She hadn't even finished when the brakes screeched harshly. The car lurched to a halt on the empty shoulder of the road. Stella almost smacked into the window from the force, her pulse hammering as she barked, "Are you out of your mind?" Bradly loomed over her, fingers digging into her chin, irritation boiling in his glare. "Stella, do you have any idea what you're saying?" The pinch stung like crazy, and the absurdity of it all hit her as she wrestled to shove him off. "Is it not true? When's the last time we even held hands. Can you remember?" Bradly's gaze turned stormy, like she'd struck a raw spot. "I bet you're hung up on Milford, just like that girl from the second branch. That's why you pulled away in front of him. You're trying to cut ties with me?" "Bradly! What the hell are you babbling about?" Anger surged through her as she pushed harder. "Don't you dare pin your gross history on me!" The way the family had orbited Milford like he was the sun had obviously gotten under his skin. The more she resisted, the darker his look grew. Abruptly, he leaned in and smashed his mouth against hers. Stella's eyes flew wide, her head whipping aside to evade as she hammered at his shoulders with everything she had. He'd locked lips with Shanna god knows how often. The thought turned her stomach, so she clamped down and bit him hard. Bradly yelped in pain, jerking back as the fog cleared and he clocked what he'd just done, regret flashing across his face. Blood dotted his lip, but he brushed it off, lunging to wrap her in his arms. "I'm sorry, Stella, baby, I'm so sorry. I screwed up; it was a stupid impulse..." Drained of energy, Stella sagged into the passenger seat, letting him hold her while a barren wave of emptiness and revulsion washed over her. The hug she'd once melted into now repulsed her to her core. "Get off me." Her voice came out rough and scratchy. "Bradly, don't push me to hating you."
Chapter 1 Don't Want Him Anymore "I'm sorry, ma'am." On the other end of the line, the insurance customer service rep said coolly, "After checking our records, the car owner, Mr. Woodard, is indeed married, but the spouse listed here isn't you." Stella Daniels had gotten into a car accident on her way to the Woodard Group headquarters. She couldn't get through to Bradly Woodard on his phone, so she had no choice but to call the insurance company. The car was registered in Bradly's name, but as his wife, she should be able to process the claim too. "When Mr. Woodard picked up the car, he came with his wife and provided the original marriage license. Her last name is Erickson, and her full name is Shanna Erickson," the rep said. It hit Stella like a slap in the face. Dizziness washed over her in waves, leaving her whole body shaking uncontrollably. She and Bradly had been childhood sweethearts. Their families were old friends, and everyone in Ostralver's high society knew how clingy he was with her. Bradly couldn't stand being apart from her even for a single day. Three years ago, when Stella headed abroad for her studies, Bradly had the plane stopped just for her. During her three years in Ensland, he expanded his business overseas to make it easier to look after her. Sixteen thousand miles apart, he'd still fly across the ocean every week to see her. The year she came down with a severe lung illness and nearly didn't pull through, she spent a week in intensive care. Bradly ignored the infection risks and stayed right by her side, sliding a ring onto her finger. He said, "If anything happens to you, I'll go with you. We'll be husband and wife in the next life too." For Bradly's sake, she turned down her mentor's offer to stay on in the lab and headed back home. Brimming with excitement, she went to find him, planning to surprise him. But when she pushed open the door to the CEO's office, she saw a slender, pretty woman straddling his lap. The woman's innocent face tilted upward, her voice whiny and aggrieved. "Mr. Woodard, what happens to me now that Stella is back?" Bradly sat in his executive chair, his tall frame looming over her. A flash of ruthlessness crossed his stern features. "You? You're just her stand-in. Don't forget your place." He lifted his hand, pinching her delicate chin with a sneer. "Barely a three-out-of-ten resemblance, and you think you can compare to her?" Stella was still clutching the gift she'd prepared for him. With a loud "bang," it dropped to the floor, finally breaking the scene in the office. Bradly's face drained of color as he shoved the woman off and jumped to his feet. That woman was Shanna. After Stella caught them in the act, Bradly fired Shanna on the spot and pulled out all the stops to win her back. Bradly, the arrogant prince of Ostralver's elite circles, humbled himself to the dust before her, begging her to give him another chance. Any project she set her sights on, he'd drop without a second thought. He stood in the pouring rain outside her building for over a week, just for a glimpse of her. He said, "Stella, I'm not asking you to forgive me. At least let me explain. "I only ever saw Shanna as your replacement. You've been gone abroad for so long; I missed you terribly. I swear, I just kept her around. Nothing more ever happened between us. "That time you walked in, I'd had too much to drink, and she deliberately tempted me. I lost control for a moment... "I've already let her go, and she won't show up in our lives again. Stella, please, come back to me." Back then, Stella couldn't stand even the slightest betrayal. She insisted on breaking off the engagement. Until that one incident. She was kidnapped by a business rival. The kidnappers reneged on the deal, tied her up in an abandoned factory, and set the place ablaze. Bradly charged into the flames without a second thought to rescue her, shielding her from a collapsing steel beam. He ended up gravely injured, confined to bed for nearly six months. By risking his life, Bradly finally melted her resolve. Once he was out of the hospital, she accepted his proposal, and they threw a lavish wedding. In the two years since they tied the knot, he'd treated her just as devotedly as ever, with zero scandals. He even imposed a strict curfew on himself, heading home right on time every day. Even on out-of-town business trips, he'd video call her constantly. His partners would tease him about being henpecked. He never denied it. Instead, he'd grin proudly and say, "A real man takes care of his family." Memories rushed through Stella's mind like a whirlwind, every past moment flashing by in a blur. Her legs buckled, and she dropped to her knees, burying her face in her hands. She couldn't figure out which Bradly was the real one anymore. A bitter, mocking gleam sparked in her eyes. She thought, 'How absurd.' She'd been his wife for two years, and only now was she learning that even their marriage license had been a sham. Stella scrubbed her face hard, her bangs already soaked with cold sweat. She ignored the other driver's furious yelling and calmly dialed the police. They showed up fast. After finishing her statement, Stella left the station under a sky that had gone completely dark. Her phone lit up with several missed calls from Bradly. When she hadn't answered, he'd sent texts instead. Bradly: [Babe, I was tied up in a key meeting this afternoon. Signal jammers were on, so I missed your call. You okay?] Bradly: [I've got a client dinner tonight, so I'll be late getting home. I double-checked: no women involved, so no need to worry.] Bradly: [Head to bed early. Don't wait up. Love you.] Stella stared at the screen, a sharp wave of irony twisting in her gut. Bradly didn't stagger in until the wee hours. He reeked of alcohol, which almost, but not quite, masked the subtle whiff of perfume on him. "Honey..." He could barely keep his balance, stumbling over to wrap his arms around her through the blanket. "I missed you so damn much..." Stella didn't say a word. Only once he was dead to the world did she sit up quietly and unlock his phone with his fingerprint. The thing was squeaky clean, no suspicious traces at all. His contacts were mostly buddies and business folks, with hers pinned at the top as "Darling Wife." Flawlessly tidy, just like their sham of a marriage. Stella hooked the phone up to her computer, and it didn't take long to uncover his second WhatsApp account. She signed in, and right away, messages popped up from a profile with a cute pink kitten avatar, labeled "Baby." Shanna: [Bradly, thanks for tonight. Without you, I wouldn't have known what to do.] Shanna: [I've always thought meeting you was the luckiest thing that's ever happened to me. I won't intrude on your life. As long as you swing by to see me once in a while, that's enough to make me happy.] Stella scrolled back through the history. She'd suspected as much, but seeing it all laid out still hit her like a punch to the chest, leaving her breathless. They chatted nearly every day. Shanna never missed a good morning message, and Bradly's replies had shifted over time, from total silence at first, to sporadic responses, and now to answering every single one. A chill spread through her. Stella clutched the phone tighter, knowing she should quit while she was ahead but unable to stop herself from digging deeper. Shanna: [Bradly, sorry, I had a few drinks and lost it for a bit. Doc says I'm okay now, so don't stress.] Shanna: [Mrs. Woodard's birthday bash is important. Go enjoy it with her. I'll be fine.] Stella squeezed her eyes shut as the memory came rushing back. Her birthday. Bradly had spent over a month planning it down to the last detail, but that day, he was totally distracted. Hell, he almost cut his own hand while slicing the cake. When she'd asked what was up, he'd brushed it off as work drama, told her not to worry, then pulled her into a soft embrace and encouraged her to blow out the candles and make a wish. It all made sense now, as she stared at this chat log. That same day, Shanna had tried to kill herself by slashing her wrists and ended up in the ER. A sour bitterness flooded her chest like a rising tide. In those brief seconds when she'd closed her eyes to wish, she wondered, 'Was he agonizing over Shanna in the hospital, or picturing endless years together with her?' Stella knew she didn't need an answer to that anymore. She gently placed the phone back and looked down at Bradly, fast asleep beside her. She'd known him since she was four, and for the twenty years that followed, she'd truly believed his love was hers alone, irreplaceable. But now she saw it for what it was: just cheap free samples at a store, handed out to anyone who walked by. If that was all it amounted to, she was done with it. Chapter 2 Bid Against Her The next day, Stella woke to find Bradly busy in the kitchen, his broad shoulders narrowing to a slim waist, his tall, lean build moving with purpose. The sight hit her hard, a dull ache tightening in her chest. Bradly had learned to cook entirely for her sake. She still remembered that turbulent period when the Woodard Group was in crisis. His rivals had targeted her, paying off a servant to poison her food. She'd been unconscious for three full days. When she finally woke, Bradly was there, his eyes red-rimmed and veined with exhaustion, gripping her hand like a lifeline. The instant she stirred, the imposing Bradly crumbled forward, enveloping her in a hug as scalding tears fell onto her skin. From then on, Bradly threw himself into cooking lessons, taking charge of all her meals. In less than a month, he'd gone from a spoiled elite who couldn't distinguish spices to turning out dishes worthy of a Michelin chef. Just then, his phone rang. Stella glanced at it but made no move to answer. Bradly darted out of the kitchen, apron still on, grabbing the phone with a barely concealed flash of anxiety. Stella pretended not to notice and went to wash up. When she came back, the table was set with breakfast, and he was slipping into his suit jacket from the coat rack. Seeing her, he said gently, "There's an emergency at work. I have to run. Sorry I can't join you for breakfast." Stella murmured, "Sure, work comes first." He was clearly in a hurry, because he didn't pick up on the new edge of cool distance in her tone and rushed out. She stared blankly after him until he was gone, then dumped the entire spread into the trash. Then she picked up her phone and dialed a number. "That offer you made before? I'm on board." The person on the other end erupted in delight, chattering away before shifting to broken Andosa Language. "Stella, why the sudden change of heart? I've bugged you about this so many times, and you always said you were married now and focusing on family." A mocking glint flickered in Stella's eyes. She thought, 'Married? This so-called marriage has been dead on arrival.' The caller was her former mentor from her overseas studies. He'd reached out lately, hoping she'd join his new team and spearhead a major project. At the time, she'd kept saying no out of loyalty to Bradly. Now, she only wished she'd seen through the absurd joke of their marriage earlier. After the call, she contacted immigration to schedule a passport renewal. It would take about a week. But before heading out, she had one loose end to tie up. That evening, Stella showed up at a private auction at the Cloud Hotel. She was after one of her mother's keepsakes. Her mom had died when she was eight, and soon after, the Daniels family had liquidated her wedding gift. Stella had been hunting down the items ever since. Over the years, she'd only reclaimed a few. Tonight's auction featured a bracelet from that collection, one her mother had picked up on a trip to Ijance. It was utterly unique, irreplaceable. Whatever it took, she was getting it back. Stella settled into her seat just as the auction was about to start. She was flipping through the catalog when Bradly's voice floated over. "Didn't I already pick out that royal blue sapphire set for you? Not good enough?" His voice carried that familiar tenderness. Shanna linked her arm with his, pouting playfully. "Your taste sucks! I want to pick my own birthday gift." Stella watched them quietly until Bradly threaded through the guests and their gazes collided by chance. The color drained from his face. On pure reflex, he jerked his arm away from Shanna. "Stella." He strode over quickly. "I tried calling you a few times, but you didn't answer. Were you planning to surprise me?" Even though he tried to play it cool, she could still catch that subtle hint of panic in his expression. Stella didn't bother calling him on it, replying evenly, "My phone was on silent. I didn't hear it." Bradly visibly relaxed, casually taking her hand in his with a look of concern. "Your hands are like ice. Didn't I warn you about the cold snap today? You're always putting style over staying warm. If you catch a chill, you know it'll just kill me." As he talked, he signaled a server for a blanket and draped it snugly around her shoulders. Stella kept a straight face, brushing him off as she looked past him to Shanna, who lingered behind with a scowl. Shanna nibbled her lip, then defiantly dropped into the seat next to Bradly, her gaze simmering with irritation. Bradly leaned closer, dropping his voice to explain, "We just wrapped up a major project at the company, and Shanna pulled her weight big time. Her birthday's around the corner, so I thought I'd treat her to something as a project bonus." He eyed her anxiously. "Stella, you're not mad, right?" Shanna piped up in a soft, vulnerable tone. "Mrs. Woodard, if this upsets you, I'll just go. I don't want to get in the way of you and Mr. Woodard." Stella's mouth quirked into a smile that never touched her eyes. "We're married. A little thing like this? Of course it doesn't bother me." The auction got underway shortly after. Bradly treated Shanna like she was invisible, focusing entirely on Stella. He paged through the catalog, throwing in bids left and right. "Babe, this would look amazing on you." He grinned, tenderly brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his tone warm and intimate. "You'd be gorgeous in it." Stella averted her eyes, but out of the corner of her vision, she saw Shanna discreetly clutching the edge of Bradly's jacket in the dim light. Their gazes locked for a split second in a shared, lingering look. She masked the derision in her own eyes, struck by how absurd it all was. Bradly seemed totally at ease juggling both women, convinced he was keeping things balanced, one with the official status, the other with his undivided public attention. She thought, 'What could be fairer than that?' But Stella had never been interested in that kind of equilibrium. Her world extended far beyond romance. Bradly? He was just a small detour on her path, a misstep she'd own up to. And now, it was time to set things right. "Next up: a string of bracelet. Fine-grained texture, deep aroma that lingers. Starting bid at 170,000 dollars, with increments of at least 20,000 dollars!" The auctioneer's pumped-up voice echoed through the room. Finally, Stella's main target for the evening. Bids flew in fast, the screen flickering with updates as the auctioneer called out, "Number 17 lady at 200,000 dollars! Number 9 gentleman ups it to 260,000 dollars! Going higher?" Once the initial frenzy tapered off, Stella lifted her paddle. "500,000 dollars." She'd doubled the current bid in one go. It was a hefty amount. Sure, the bracelet was top-notch, but it wasn't the auction's highlight. The room went quiet after her call; no one countered. "Fantastic! Number 11 lady at 500,000 dollars! "500,000 dollars once! 500,000 dollars twice!" The auctioneer hoisted his gavel, poised to bring it down. "No more bids? Then 500,000 dollars—" "520,000 dollars," A gentle, hesitant voice interrupted. Shanna shrank against Bradly's side, paddle in hand, murmuring timidly to him, "Is this where I put in the amount?" Chapter 3 You're Dirty Stella frowned and raised her bid. "540,000 dollars." But Shanna was right behind her, countering with, "560,000 dollars." How annoyingly precise, each time, she stuck to the bare minimum, slapping on just 20,000 dollars more than Stella's offer. Shanna turned toward her, her voice dripping with plea. "Stella, you've got plenty of jewelry already. Please, let me have this one. I adore it. "I'm not like you, born with money, everything handed to you on a silver platter. You snap your fingers and get whatever you want. If it goes any higher, I really won't be able to keep up." Stella didn't bother looking at her, just quirking her lips in a thin smile. "Isn't Mr. Woodard covering the cost for you? What are you stressing about?" Shanna's face went a shade paler, but she answered in that soft, demure tone, "Even so, Mr. Woodard earns his money the hard way. If I can save him a bit, I ought to." She was the epitome of considerate and caring. After several more back-and-forth bids, the bracelet's price had soared to 700,000 dollars. Stella let out a chilly scoff and was opening her mouth to up the ante when Bradly beat her to it. He said, "Babe, why don't we just let Shanna take this bracelet?" Stella's fingers curled into a tight fist, her nails biting into her palm. She lifted her gaze, any lingering warmth in her eyes turning to ice. "What did you just say?" Bradly let out a resigned sigh, giving her hand a comforting pat as he murmured gently, "Babe, I already told Shanna she'd get a gift tonight, and she's got her heart set on this one. No need to compete with her. "Plus, I've already snagged you a handful of other pieces. Isn't that plenty?" He said it all lightly, teasingly, as if it were nothing more than a harmless quip. Stella shut her eyes, a nameless sourness creeping along her nerves, coiling around her heart until it felt like she couldn't draw a breath. Given Shanna's modest background, 700,000 dollars was way out of her league. She wouldn't even make the guest list here on her own. The only reason she was in that seat, trading bids blow for blow, was Bradly's backing. His pampering had delivered her straight into Stella's path. Stella whispered, "What if I refuse to back down?" She hoisted her paddle once more, her voice echoing through the room. "1 million dollars." A hush blanketed the hall. The auctioneer clearly picked up on the drama, his delivery faltering. "Number eleven at 1 million dollars. Do I hear higher?" Shanna's eyes welled up, on the verge of tears, as she cast a helpless look at Bradly before tacking on another fifty thousand. "1 million 20 thousand dollars." Stella's features hardened to frost, and she was poised to fire back when the manager bustled over, bending close to murmur, "Mrs. Woodard, apologies. We ran a credit verification on your account, and it's frozen. Got another one we can use?" The words slammed into her like a bolt from the blue, ringing in her ears. She snapped her head toward Bradly, but he'd already looked away. An icy numbness spread through her arms and legs. She though,t 'Of course, it has to be him.' Her primary account was linked with his; besides her, only he could authorize a freeze on her cards. Triumph flickered in Shanna's eyes as she added with a pointed edge, "Well, in that case, Mrs. Woodard, maybe it's time to step aside. You've got so much already. Can't you let me have this one little thing?" Up on stage, the auction rolled on, the display frozen on Shanna's latest bid: 1 million 20 thousand dollars. Shanna could hardly hide her glee, chirping sweetly, "Go on, call it!" But the words had barely left her lips when someone announced he would bid for the lot at any costs right in the second-floor VIP suite. After a momentary silence, the room burst into chaos. "He's declared absolute intent!" Even the auctioneer's expression changed. He'd been in the game for over a decade, but this was his first encounter with such a scenario. He hurriedly called out, "Lot number six goes to the gentleman in box 217, regardless of how high the price goes." Anyone up in those second-floor VIP suites was either swimming in money or held serious sway in Ostralver's upper crust. Stella glanced upward toward the source of the voice, catching only a vague outline behind the draped curtains. Even when she couldn't see his face, the man's crossed-legged posture radiated an unspoken dominance that pressed down on the room. The auctioneer slammed his gavel down with finality, proclaiming, "Congratulations to our esteemed guest in box 217 on winning lot number six! You're now upgraded to black gold status!" Across all of Ostralver's elite scene, fewer than a handful had ever hit black gold level at these events. Stella wondered, 'Just who is this mystery man?' Stella loosened her clenched fist slightly, torn between relief that her mother's heirloom hadn't landed in Shanna's clutches and anxiety over reclaiming it from this unknown figure. No matter what, she'd stop at nothing, pay any price, to bring her mother's possession home. She rose to her feet, intent on marching over to box 217 for a chat, when the attendant who'd just ducked inside reappeared, tray in hand with the bracelet. "What's this? The bidder in 217 having second thoughts?" "Auctions don't do take-backs." "Probably short on funds. I called it. No one's done this here before." As the murmurs swirled, the attendant headed straight for Stella, dipping into a courteous bow with a warm smile. She said, "Mrs. Woodard, the gentleman in box 217 requests that I deliver the bracelet to you as a gift. He wishes for you to follow your true path and for all to unfold as it should." The place erupted in gossip once more, with guests shooting glances her way, some envious, others skeptical, many flat-out stunned. "Isn't that Mrs. Woodard? What's her deal with the upstairs guy?" "Likely just buttering up Mr. Woodard." "Nah, I don't buy it. Out of all the goodies tonight, why zero in on those beads for Mrs. Woodard? Sounds like she's got a real connection there." The buzz filtered through, and Bradly's face turned stone-cold. In a tight, edged voice, he demanded, "Stella, what's the story with you and whoever's in box 217?" Stella held his piercing stare and said flatly, "I have no idea who he is." "!" Bradly jumped up, clamping down on her wrist like a vice. Her soft, fair skin reddened almost instantly under the pressure. Stella winced sharply, jerking her arm back on reflex. "Bradly, have you lost your mind? Haven't you stirred up enough drama for one day?" But he barreled on, blind to her fury, his reddened eyes locked on her as if he could swallow her up. "What's really between you two? "Stella, through all our married years, I've bent over backward for you. Anything you desired, I served it up without question. Why would you betray me like this?" In his mind, it was already a done deal: she was entangled in something shady with the man above. If the guy was angling for a favor from him, Bradly would've recognized him right away. People in Ostralver didn't beat around the bush when they needed something from him. They came direct. The jab landed raw and direct. Bradly blinked, frozen for a beat as a flicker of alarm shot through his eyes. Chapter 4 Don't Know You'd Come Bradly said, "I'm sorry, Stella. I didn't mean it like that. I had no right getting jealous over you and some stranger. It's all on me." Bradly's eyes reddened. "But honestly, there's nothing going on between Shanna and me. I just brought her along as a thank-you. Can you let this slide?" Seeing his cue, Shanna ducked her head meekly, her voice catching. "That's right, Mrs. Woodard. I've been bending over backward to keep my distance from Mr. Woodard so you wouldn't get the wrong impression. "I'm not asking for the world, just a decent birthday gift. I didn't grow up with your advantages; you've had everything handed to you and even snagged a catch like Mr. Woodard. Can't I at least pick out something for myself?" "Just a gift, huh?" Stella closed in on her, one step at a time. "Ms. Erickson, I've never given a damn about this 'gift' you're going on about. What gets under my skin is you, a Woodard Group employee, crossing lines you have no business crossing." As they drew closer, Bradly instinctively stepped in front of Shanna, his voice soft and coaxing. "Stella, if it's bugging you this much, I'll transfer her to a branch office once the auction's over. "But for now, cut me some slack. Let Shanna have the bracelet. When we get home, name your price on anything, and it's yours." Shanna bobbed her head in agreement, tears glistening on her lashes as she pleaded, "Stella, I really adore this bracelet. You've got it all already. Why go after the one thing I want? "Or is this just because you hate my guts and can't resist taking shots at me?" "What makes you think I'd ever like you?" Stella let out a cold snort. "This belonged to me from the start. Why the hell would I give it up?" She took the bracelet from the attendant with casual ease, her smile sharp but empty. "Ms. Erickson, know your place." Her refusal to budge finally wore through Bradly's patience, erasing every bit of softness from his face. "Stella, do you have to humiliate me like this in front of everyone? Where does that leave my dignity? "It's just a crappy old bracelet. Am I really worth less to you than some trinket?" He said it with such conviction, as if he'd wiped from his memory the solemn vow he'd made when proposing: that he'd hunt down every single one of her mother's sold-off keepsakes, no matter what. Stella's hand flew up, delivering a resounding slap across his cheek. The sharp crack rang out, pulling shocked stares from every corner of the room. Bradly's head snapped sideways, his face livid as he fixed her with a glare, his words hissing through clenched teeth. "Stella, drop the drama already. Have I pampered you too much these days, turning you into this unreasonable nightmare?" Stella reined in her temper, keeping her tone even. "Bradly, you better not live to regret today." Without another word, she turned and walked out, not sparing a backward glance. As her figure receded, Shanna gently touched the angry red mark on Bradly's cheek, her voice full of worry. "Mr. Woodard, are you okay? "Stella's got no boundaries. How could she hit you with all these people watching?" Bradly swatted her hand aside, his nails digging into his palm as he stared after her retreating path. "I've spoiled her rotten, letting her forget that everything she has comes from me." Shanna peeked at his changing expression, testing the waters. "Mr. Woodard, about the bracelet..." Bradly rubbed his throbbing cheek, pulled a bank card from his pocket, and handed it over. "1.7 million dollars on there. Buy whatever catches your eye." Box 217, Stella rapped on the door, eager to thank the mystery bidder face-to-face. Silence. She caught a server walking by. "Excuse me, any idea where the gentleman from this box headed?" "He slipped out right after nabbing the last item," the server said. Disappointment flashed in her eyes, but Stella pressed on, "Do you know who he was?" The server gave her a regretful smile. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard, we're not allowed to spill on our VIPs. Don't make this harder for us." Catching herself, Stella moved out of the way. "Thanks all the same." By the time she made it home from the auction, an hour had ticked by. Stella went straight up to the study, fired up the computer, and dove into the assets registered under her and Bradly's names. After tallying up the numbers, she snatched her phone, found lawyer Rubin Cobb's contact, and hit dial. She said, "I've sorted out the asset division documents for me and Bradly and sent them over. I need you to handle the property split by tomorrow." Rubin quickly received the files and nodded respectfully. "Of course, Mrs. Woodard. I'll get right on it." Stella stared intently at her computer screen, her grip tightening on the mouse. "If Bradly's committed bigamy, how should our assets be divided?" "Generally, any property the bigamous party gained through the bigamy can be claimed back by the other spouse," Rubin replied matter-of-factly. Half of Bradly's current wealth had come from Stella's investments to support his career early on. Her expression darkened, and she promptly forwarded the marriage license between him and Shanna. "Rubin, please use every legal avenue to recover my half of the assets." After hanging up, Stella slumped back in her chair, utterly drained physically and emotionally. She closed her eyes slowly, but sleep was nowhere in sight. Bradly would never agree to a divorce. Until she had everything locked down, she couldn't let on that anything was amiss. Just then, the study door was kicked open from the outside. Bradly flung his jacket onto the desk and yanked Stella up from her seat in front of the computer. "Do you realize that because of your little outburst, I've become a laughingstock in our circles? "What exactly do you want? Are you still obsessing over what happened back then?" Stella opened her eyes slowly, her gaze settling calmly on Bradly, but she remained silent. A fire raged in Bradly's chest, intensifying by the second, and he couldn't hold back his fury any longer. "Since we got married, have I ever done anything to wrong you? I come home right on time every night after work, I always fill you in on any business dinners, and if there's even a hint of a woman involved, I skip them entirely! I've bent over backward, and it's still not good enough for you?" He remembered every detail crystal clear. In his mind, these were the sacrifices he'd made to marry her. Stella suddenly found the whole thing absurd. She couldn't bear to look at him anymore, so she stood up and walked straight out of the study without a backward glance. Behind her, Bradly's voice echoed heavily. "Stella, no matter what you think, my conscience is clear." It felt like Stella's heart had been shattered into icy fragments, a sharp, bitter pain surging through her. Her mind buzzed, and for a moment, all she could hear was that phrase repeating over and over. She thought, 'My conscience is clear? So, in his eyes, everything he's done is perfectly justifiable.' The next morning, when Stella woke up, Bradly was already gone. On the table sat the breakfast he'd prepared, tailored exactly to her tastes. Stella pressed her lips together, her feelings a complicated tangle. They'd ended things on a sour note last night, yet Bradly had still made her breakfast this morning. But this was the same man who'd lied to her for years. No matter what, it was time to end things with Bradly. She didn't touch the food and headed straight to the office. These past few years, she'd stayed out of Bradly's business dealings. A lot of her old financial records were outdated now, and she needed the latest reports. The secretary looked startled when she saw her, then managed to say, "Mrs. Woodard, are you here to see Mr. Woodard?" "No." Stella replied evenly. "Send the finance manager in to see me." Her shares were second only to Bradly's, giving her full access to every aspect of the company. The secretary hesitated briefly before nodding. Stella noticed her immediately turning to make a phone call, probably alerting Bradly. Stella didn't intervene; let her. She settled into the finance office, sipping her coffee absentmindedly while flipping through magazines on the shelf. Most were glossy entertainment rags, mixed in with novels and comics. Stella frowned, only now picking up on the details: the desk was covered in a pink plaid mat, cluttered with adorable plush toys. The standout pair was a set of couple dolls, their outfits emblazoned with the letters W and E. It hit Stella suddenly what that meant, and just then, the door behind her swung open. Shanna rushed in. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard." She was clutching a cup of coffee as she apologized. "I had no idea you'd drop by like this..." Chapter 5 All For Milford Stella arched an eyebrow as she looked her over. "So you're the finance manager?" Shanna nodded with a quick smile. "That's me. If you need anything at all, just say the word. Bradly, well, Mr. Woodard is tied up in a meeting right now. But don't worry, I'll make sure to relay whatever message you have." Stella let out a soft laugh. "No need for that." She regarded Shanna with clear curiosity. "I'm not looking for Bradly. I'm here to see you." Shanna's smile faltered for a moment before she recovered, her tone turning gentle. "Mrs. Woodard, I get that you're still bothered by what went down at the auction last night, but there's no reason to be so worked up about my connection to Mr. Woodard. After all..." She raised her hand, the elegant diamond ring on her finger glinting under the light, perfectly complementing her bashful grin. "I'm already married, and things are great between me and my husband." Stella's eyes locked on the ring, her breath hitching just for an instant. It was ridiculous. In this whole messed-up situation, she was the one playing the role of the mistress. The ring was an exact match for the one Bradly had given her during his proposal. But within seconds, Stella averted her gaze. "It's a lovely ring, but you're mistaken." She spoke unhurriedly, "I'm just here to grab the latest financial report from you. That's all." Stella caught the sour shift in Shanna's expression and smiled to herself. "Seems like you're the one on edge here, Ms. Erickson." Shanna's face transformed completely, that smug spark in her eyes snuffed out. She bit her lip, unable to find words for a long beat. Stella watched her with unruffled poise. "Do I need to repeat my request, Ms. Erickson?" The words had barely left her mouth when Bradly burst in, his expression clouding over at the sight. "Stella, wasn't the scene from last night enough?" His voice was laced with ice. "How long are you planning to drag this out? I've told you already. There's nothing going on between me and Shanna. If you don't believe me..." Stella interrupted him mid-sentence, "Oh, I believe you. Absolutely." A faint smirk tugged at her lips, though her eyes remained frosty as they settled on Shanna. "After all, Ms. Erickson's already married. She just mentioned it herself." The statement landed like a bomb. Shanna's face drained of color, and Bradly's followed suit. He shot her a withering glare. Tears sprang to Shanna's eyes in an instant. Stella had no interest in watching the drama unfold any further. She said evenly, "I'm here for this year's financials. I hold forty percent of the company. Surely I can access that, right?" Bradly seemed to snap back to reality, nodding hastily. "Of course you can." He barked orders at the secretary to fetch it immediately, all the while stealing wary glances at her face. Once he confirmed she wasn't giving anything away, he exhaled almost imperceptibly in relief. He said, "Stella, what's with the sudden interest? You've never bothered with company matters before." Stella answered coolly, "After the account freeze last night, I decided it's smarter to set up a separate one." Bradly's expression froze again. "Stella..." The secretary returned promptly with the report. Stella brushed Bradly aside, skimmed through it quickly, and was heading for the door when he caught her by the wrist. He said, "Stella, about the family dinner tonight, are you coming home with me?" His tone was pleading, like he needed her answer to reassure himself that she hadn't caught on to anything fishy. Stella didn't look back, just replying calmly, "Sure." Bradly's face lit up. "Great, I'll swing by after work to pick you up." Stella dropped her gaze, masking the cool detachment in her eyes. She'd only agreed to head back to the family estate for one specific reason. The marriage license from when she and Bradly had tied the knot was a phony, but he'd made a whole production out of stashing it away at the house, claiming it had to be kept secure. Nothing could serve as stronger proof. Once she got her hands on it, his bigamy would be ironclad. Stella didn't bother waiting for Bradly; she hailed a cab and got there ahead of time. She'd figured it was just a standard family gathering, but she was caught off guard by the full turnout. Bradly's parents, fresh from their overseas vacation last week, were back, and even the distant relatives from the Woodard family's side branches had shown up en masse. "Stella, dear." As she walked in, Nadine Woodard peered over her shoulder. "Bradly didn't come with you?" Stella answered evenly, "He'll be along shortly." Nadine clicked her tongue, her irritation obvious. "On an important occasion like this, letting someone from outside the family arrive solo, what's got into him?" Stella's brow furrowed just a touch. She and Bradly had been engaged since childhood, but after her mother's passing, the Daniels family's status had tanked while the Woodard family kept climbing. That was when Nadine started pushing to scrap the arrangement, and she'd mentioned it more than a few times. But Chuck Woodard was upright and principled, flat-out refusing to play the social-climbing game. With Bradly dead set on marrying her and no one else, Nadine had reluctantly given in, though she made her resentment clear. Even after the marriage, she never passed up an opportunity to give Stella the cold shoulder. She was about to add something else when the butler rushed in and murmured, "He's here." Nadine promptly dropped the subject with Stella and jumped to her feet, the extended family hustling out right behind her to welcome the arrivals. The level of pomp surprised Stella. The Woodard family was already at the top of Ostralver's social elite. For them to pull out all the stops like this... Standing at the edge of the group, Stella glanced up and saw a black Maybach rolling up to the front of the estate. Someone hurried forward to open the door respectfully, and a tall, imposing figure stepped out unhurriedly. The man wore a sleek black suit, his chiseled features sharp, eyes as midnight, radiating a fierce intensity. Every gesture exuded a natural poise and authority that made it tough to hold his stare. The crowd swarmed forward in a rush, but he stayed cool and detached the whole time, his stunningly handsome face as impassive as carved ice, showing zero emotion. Then, as if picking up on something, he looked up toward Stella. Their eyes locked unexpectedly, sending her heart pounding. It was Milford Woodard, Bradly's brother. He'd returned to the country. Though they were brothers in name, Milford wasn't all that tight with the family. He'd headed overseas young and had spent years growing the business abroad. His father Edward Woodard was a total lightweight, good only at spending cash, not earning it. His grandpa Chuck had the smarts and drive, but age was catching up, leaving him unable to manage it all. Real power over the Woodard family had shifted to Milford ages ago. Stella let out a quiet breath. She thought, 'That explains the big crowd today. They've all turned out for Milford.' Chapter 6 Need Help? Stella lingered in the corner of the living room, watching the relatives descend like a swarm of locusts, all scrambling to surround Milford. Bradly stood next to Nadine, flashing a polished smile as he greeted, "Hey, Milford." The uncles who'd been buttering up Bradly just a minute ago quickly switched gears, beaming with over-the-top enthusiasm as they stepped up to say hello. "Milford, what prompted the sudden return?" "Milford, I hear you're in the middle of acquiring a domestic company? You're just getting more impressive by the day." "Come on inside, take a seat. We've got some top-shelf coffee." Bradly caught the stark contrast in the uncles' warmth, his smile fading briefly before he pulled it together and led the way forward. Stella quietly eyed the tall, strikingly handsome Milford striding into the living room like the star of the show, instinctively edging back a step. Now fully pushed to the fringes of the crowd, she shifted aside to let the trailing group pass, doing everything she could to blend into the wallpaper. Milford approached steadily. Unlike Bradly's flashy, outgoing vibe, he had a more brooding, aloof kind of handsomeness, like a pine tree blanketed in snow, regal and intimidating. He acknowledged the flattery around him with simple nods, his eyes scanning the room casually, subtly taking stock of everyone there. Until his gaze swept over Stella again, and he came to an abrupt halt. He paused, causing Bradly to stop too. "Something wrong, Milford?" Milford didn't respond, his steady gaze fixed on Stella. It was only a look, but it jolted her to her core. She felt an odd sense of being claimed, uninvited. Yet she'd barely crossed paths with Milford before. Bradly and the others traced his stare, his eyebrow quirking up. "Stella, come say hi to Big Milford." Stella started to step forward, but Milford beat her to it, walking straight toward her. Bradly and the rest exchanged surprised glances. So far, everyone had been approaching Milford. He hadn't initiated with a soul. Milford's deep eyes gave nothing away. "Stella?" Her breath hitched, like a faint breeze had brushed her ear. She hadn't anticipated him coming over to chat. It had been years, and they'd only met once or twice, but he still remembered her. Stella nodded. "Milford, it's been ages—" Before she could finish, Milford held out his hand. The move was so casual, so natural. Out of pure reflex and politeness, Stella extended hers, their palms connecting. In that brief clasp, she felt him squeeze gently, his thumb settling on her fingers and grazing them with a warm intensity. Milford released after just a second. Suddenly, Bradly sidled up, drawing Stella into his side with an arm around her waist, lacing his fingers through her left hand. He said, "Milford, how long are you in town this time? Stella and I can take you out to dinner one of these days." Milford took in their cozy pose, his glance dropping to their intertwined hands. "About a month." The words had barely left his mouth when Chuck came down the stairs, leaning on the butler for support. Milford headed over to talk with him. Not long after, the kitchen called that the party was ready. Stella trailed Bradly to their seats on the left side of the main table. Everyone filed in and sat. As the eldest branch, the two Woodard brothers took priority. Chuck claimed the head of the main table, with Nadine and Milford next in line. Stella and Bradly fell further down the order, landing her right across from Milford on the diagonal. The family feast got underway, with everyone firing questions at Milford about what he'd been up to lately. Stella kept her head down, nibbling at her food while catching bits of the conversation. Zrester bigwig, major stakeholder in Wonder Group, founder of that financial exchange and the smart transportation AI... Milford's credentials were endless and mind-blowing. She thought back to that Zrester party invite list she'd snagged years ago. Milford was third from the top, while she languished at the bottom. In all these years, she'd had next to no interaction with him. Right after the wedding, this mysterious Milford had only shown up once. He dropped off a gift and vanished. In just a handful of years, Milford had climbed to the pinnacle of Zrester's power players. His talent was obvious. Before long, the family party wound down, and folks scattered to grab desserts. Still hung up on that marriage license, Stella excused herself to head upstairs for a coat change. Bradly was itching to chat with Milford, his gaze fixed that way as he muttered distractedly, "Yeah, go on up." Stella wasted no time hustling upstairs. With the crowd milling about downstairs, she slipped to the third floor of the villa and nudged open Bradly's bedroom door. There it was: the glaring marriage license perched right on top of the nightstand, framed, flanked by their wedding portrait. As she stepped closer, memories of Bradly's cozy moments with Shanna flooded her brain, her nails digging slowly into her palm. That license seared her eyes, like it was sneering at her gullibility. She never should've caved, never should've handed Bradly a second shot. It just went to show that people's hearts circled back for seconds. Disgust flickered in her eyes as she hauled the desk's computer chair over, the kind with wheels and a swivel, shaky at best. She climbed onto it, planting one foot on the bed for stability, teetering just enough to hold steady. Stella hiked up her pearl-white knee-length dress a bit and stretched upward slowly. Fingers extended to the max, but she was still a couple inches shy. She rose onto her tiptoes, straining, but no dice. Frowning from her perch, she scanned around and snagged a book from beside the cabinet. As she leaned down, footsteps suddenly echoed outside the door. Fast, but measured. A man's, for sure. Her pulse spiked. She clutched the table, scrambling to hop down, but, perfect timing, her other sleeve caught on the cabinet's edge. She tugged frantically to break free, but it was too late to descend. The door flew open out of nowhere. Stella went rigid, her knees giving way as she toppled backward off the chair. A quick yelp escaped her, but the expected crash never hit. A firm hand latched precisely onto her thigh, another banding around her waist, hauling her into a solid hold and planting her feet firmly on the floor. She slammed into a warm, toned chest, a crisp, grounding sandalwood aroma enveloping her, not Bradly's scent. Stella glanced up, nearly clipping the guy's chin. Milford let go right away, backing off a step to give her space. Her cheeks burned, the thigh he'd gripped feeling like it was on fire. Mortified and frozen, she stammered, "Th-thanks." Milford stayed composed, his eyes skimming her flushed face and the pinkened patch of skin on her thigh from his hold. His Adam's apple dipped subtly. "Didn't realize you were in here. My bad." Stella shook her head, even more flustered. She was the one imposing on him. Milford flicked a glance upward. "Need some help?" She looked too. Up top, the marriage license screamed for attention. Chapter 7 Don't Let Me Hate You Stella just came out with it. "I want to get the marriage license down." Milford hesitated for a beat, without probing why she needed it, and slid the chair out of the way. Tall and long-limbed, he barely had to tip up on his toes to snag it effortlessly. Milford skimmed the lettering on the license, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes before the faintest quirk tugged at his lips, almost undetectable. He passed it over to Stella. "Ah, I see." She missed the words, taking it with a soft murmur: "Thanks, Milford." Her palms were slick with sweat now, but holding the certificate still sent an icy shiver through her. Those bold letters were a brutal reminder. This whole marriage had been one big joke. From beginning to end, Bradly's grand performance of undying love had always had a third wheel in the shadows. Milford dropped his gaze. Towering over her, all he could make out was the neat swirl at the top of her head, round and oddly appealing. Those slim, pale hands gripped the certificate like a vise, completely bloodless. Milford asked offhandedly, "So, what's the marriage license for?" "Oh, I just want to bring it home and store it there," Stella shot back, pulling an excuse out of thin air. Milford's stare felt like it enveloped her, the heat of it almost scorching, though he kept his hands to himself. Then he casually adjusted his cufflinks and turned to go. Stella let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, sagging against the cool cabinet. Her thigh still tingled with warmth from his grip; she quickly smoothed her skirt down, tucked the license into her bag, and only left the room once everything looked undisturbed. Bradly was still out in the back garden, deep in conversation. Stella kept her face neutral, strolling over to stand at his side. A few relatives were chatting with him. "Hey, word is Milford actually got back a couple days ago, but only tipped us off today." Bradly looked taken aback. "I thought he was flying in today?" "Nope, sounds like he hit up some auction. I only heard bits and pieces, supposedly the other night at the Empire Auction House." "He must not have gone. I was there that evening too, and I didn't see him anywhere," Bradly said, frowning in confusion. Stella's eyelashes flickered subtly, but she played it cool. Out of nowhere, her mind jumped back to that enigmatic bidder in suite 217. She wondered, 'Could Milford be the mystery guest who got the bracelet for me?' She shoved the thought down as soon as it surfaced. They'd only crossed paths once, total strangers really, connected by the flimsiest in-law tie. No matter how you sliced it, Milford wouldn't stick his neck out for her. Just like Bradly said, he hadn't caught wind of anything, so it couldn't be Milford. Stella let it go. After some more mingling, the group started to break up. Bradly steered her over to bid farewell to Milford. "Mom, Milford, we're taking off. Let's set up a family dinner soon when things settle." Milford slouched back in his chair with effortless nonchalance and gave a nod. "I'm knee-deep in an acquisition, no hurry on the get-together. But you..." He lifted his head, his expression sharpening. "Keep your life on the straight and narrow. Don't veer off track." The edge of warning in his voice was crystal clear. Bradly had grown up overshadowed by Milford; he went rigid but brushed it off casually. "Come on, everything's good. My company's running smooth as ever. If you're skeptical, drop by anytime and pore over the financials—knock yourself out." "It's not just about the company," Milford said softly, eyes down as he savored a sip of coffee. Stella couldn't help stealing a glance at him, and in that instant, a ridiculous idea struck her. From what Bradly had mentioned, Milford was abroad most of the time but still had the inside scoop on everything back home. She wondered, 'Does he know about the shady stuff Bradly is up to on the sly?' "Milford, I hear you. I'll make sure to nurture my marriage with Stella, our whole life together." Bradly grinned, threading his fingers through Stella's. Milford's gaze lingered on their joined hands for a second before drifting away, sealed with a subtle nod. Stella had no desire for any more close contact with Bradly, so she subtly shook his hand free without thinking. A split second later, his disbelieving stare locked onto her face, and he tried to grab her again. She'd known her move would humiliate him in the moment, so she didn't bother saying goodbye to Milford. She just turned and walked out ahead. Once they slid into the car, Bradly shed his polite, deferential mask from earlier, reverting to his entitled rich-kid swagger. He tugged his tie loose, a flicker of annoyance pinching his brows. "Always playing the big-brother card to chew me out, same crap since we were little. "So what if he's crushing it overseas? I'm holding my own just fine back home. Who in Ostralver would even think about messing with me?" Bradly fished out a menthol cigarette on autopilot, ready to light up, but he caught himself after glancing at Stella and shoved it back. He said, "All these years, folks have been whispering, or saying it straight to my face, that my company's thriving because of his pull. Like he's behind every damn thing. "And you? You flat-out refused to let me hold your hand back there. Trying to make me look like an idiot in front of him?" His expression iced over, the edge in his voice impossible to miss. Stella's frown deepened as she took it in. Even without knowing Milford all that well, she understood that Bradly's cocky antics in Ostralver, brushing people off like they were nothing, had always been propped up by Milford's clout. She'd assumed the brothers were tight, but clearly Bradly's respect was just for show; underneath, his grudge against Milford simmered deep. She could overlook a lot, but with things the way they were now, there was zero point in him putting on that phony hand-holding act. Stella gripped her bag, the one with the marriage license inside, and couldn't bite her tongue. "We haven't held hands in forever. It feels off to me." The car went dead quiet. She was right. Their physical closeness had dwindled so much that even she couldn't pinpoint the last time. Bradly's brow creased, and he snapped the cigarette filter clean off between his fingers. "What was that?" Stella met his eyes steadily. "From here on out, let's skip the pointless touchy-feely stuff. It just doesn't sit right." She hadn't even finished when the brakes screeched harshly. The car lurched to a halt on the empty shoulder of the road. Stella almost smacked into the window from the force, her pulse hammering as she barked, "Are you out of your mind?" Bradly loomed over her, fingers digging into her chin, irritation boiling in his glare. "Stella, do you have any idea what you're saying?" The pinch stung like crazy, and the absurdity of it all hit her as she wrestled to shove him off. "Is it not true? When's the last time we even held hands. Can you remember?" Bradly's gaze turned stormy, like she'd struck a raw spot. "I bet you're hung up on Milford, just like that girl from the second branch. That's why you pulled away in front of him. You're trying to cut ties with me?" "Bradly! What the hell are you babbling about?" Anger surged through her as she pushed harder. "Don't you dare pin your gross history on me!" The way the family had orbited Milford like he was the sun had obviously gotten under his skin. The more she resisted, the darker his look grew. Abruptly, he leaned in and smashed his mouth against hers. Stella's eyes flew wide, her head whipping aside to evade as she hammered at his shoulders with everything she had. He'd locked lips with Shanna god knows how often. The thought turned her stomach, so she clamped down and bit him hard. Bradly yelped in pain, jerking back as the fog cleared and he clocked what he'd just done, regret flashing across his face. Blood dotted his lip, but he brushed it off, lunging to wrap her in his arms. "I'm sorry, Stella, baby, I'm so sorry. I screwed up; it was a stupid impulse..." Drained of energy, Stella sagged into the passenger seat, letting him hold her while a barren wave of emptiness and revulsion washed over her. The hug she'd once melted into now repulsed her to her core. "Get off me." Her voice came out rough and scratchy. "Bradly, don't push me to hating you."
Chapter 1 Don't Want Him Anymore "I'm sorry, ma'am." On the other end of the line, the insurance customer service rep said coolly, "After checking our records, the car owner, Mr. Woodard, is indeed married, but the spouse listed here isn't you." Stella Daniels had gotten into a car accident on her way to the Woodard Group headquarters. She couldn't get through to Bradly Woodard on his phone, so she had no choice but to call the insurance company. The car was registered in Bradly's name, but as his wife, she should be able to process the claim too. "When Mr. Woodard picked up the car, he came with his wife and provided the original marriage license. Her last name is Erickson, and her full name is Shanna Erickson," the rep said. It hit Stella like a slap in the face. Dizziness washed over her in waves, leaving her whole body shaking uncontrollably. She and Bradly had been childhood sweethearts. Their families were old friends, and everyone in Ostralver's high society knew how clingy he was with her. Bradly couldn't stand being apart from her even for a single day. Three years ago, when Stella headed abroad for her studies, Bradly had the plane stopped just for her. During her three years in Ensland, he expanded his business overseas to make it easier to look after her. Sixteen thousand miles apart, he'd still fly across the ocean every week to see her. The year she came down with a severe lung illness and nearly didn't pull through, she spent a week in intensive care. Bradly ignored the infection risks and stayed right by her side, sliding a ring onto her finger. He said, "If anything happens to you, I'll go with you. We'll be husband and wife in the next life too." For Bradly's sake, she turned down her mentor's offer to stay on in the lab and headed back home. Brimming with excitement, she went to find him, planning to surprise him. But when she pushed open the door to the CEO's office, she saw a slender, pretty woman straddling his lap. The woman's innocent face tilted upward, her voice whiny and aggrieved. "Mr. Woodard, what happens to me now that Stella is back?" Bradly sat in his executive chair, his tall frame looming over her. A flash of ruthlessness crossed his stern features. "You? You're just her stand-in. Don't forget your place." He lifted his hand, pinching her delicate chin with a sneer. "Barely a three-out-of-ten resemblance, and you think you can compare to her?" Stella was still clutching the gift she'd prepared for him. With a loud "bang," it dropped to the floor, finally breaking the scene in the office. Bradly's face drained of color as he shoved the woman off and jumped to his feet. That woman was Shanna. After Stella caught them in the act, Bradly fired Shanna on the spot and pulled out all the stops to win her back. Bradly, the arrogant prince of Ostralver's elite circles, humbled himself to the dust before her, begging her to give him another chance. Any project she set her sights on, he'd drop without a second thought. He stood in the pouring rain outside her building for over a week, just for a glimpse of her. He said, "Stella, I'm not asking you to forgive me. At least let me explain. "I only ever saw Shanna as your replacement. You've been gone abroad for so long; I missed you terribly. I swear, I just kept her around. Nothing more ever happened between us. "That time you walked in, I'd had too much to drink, and she deliberately tempted me. I lost control for a moment... "I've already let her go, and she won't show up in our lives again. Stella, please, come back to me." Back then, Stella couldn't stand even the slightest betrayal. She insisted on breaking off the engagement. Until that one incident. She was kidnapped by a business rival. The kidnappers reneged on the deal, tied her up in an abandoned factory, and set the place ablaze. Bradly charged into the flames without a second thought to rescue her, shielding her from a collapsing steel beam. He ended up gravely injured, confined to bed for nearly six months. By risking his life, Bradly finally melted her resolve. Once he was out of the hospital, she accepted his proposal, and they threw a lavish wedding. In the two years since they tied the knot, he'd treated her just as devotedly as ever, with zero scandals. He even imposed a strict curfew on himself, heading home right on time every day. Even on out-of-town business trips, he'd video call her constantly. His partners would tease him about being henpecked. He never denied it. Instead, he'd grin proudly and say, "A real man takes care of his family." Memories rushed through Stella's mind like a whirlwind, every past moment flashing by in a blur. Her legs buckled, and she dropped to her knees, burying her face in her hands. She couldn't figure out which Bradly was the real one anymore. A bitter, mocking gleam sparked in her eyes. She thought, 'How absurd.' She'd been his wife for two years, and only now was she learning that even their marriage license had been a sham. Stella scrubbed her face hard, her bangs already soaked with cold sweat. She ignored the other driver's furious yelling and calmly dialed the police. They showed up fast. After finishing her statement, Stella left the station under a sky that had gone completely dark. Her phone lit up with several missed calls from Bradly. When she hadn't answered, he'd sent texts instead. Bradly: [Babe, I was tied up in a key meeting this afternoon. Signal jammers were on, so I missed your call. You okay?] Bradly: [I've got a client dinner tonight, so I'll be late getting home. I double-checked: no women involved, so no need to worry.] Bradly: [Head to bed early. Don't wait up. Love you.] Stella stared at the screen, a sharp wave of irony twisting in her gut. Bradly didn't stagger in until the wee hours. He reeked of alcohol, which almost, but not quite, masked the subtle whiff of perfume on him. "Honey..." He could barely keep his balance, stumbling over to wrap his arms around her through the blanket. "I missed you so damn much..." Stella didn't say a word. Only once he was dead to the world did she sit up quietly and unlock his phone with his fingerprint. The thing was squeaky clean, no suspicious traces at all. His contacts were mostly buddies and business folks, with hers pinned at the top as "Darling Wife." Flawlessly tidy, just like their sham of a marriage. Stella hooked the phone up to her computer, and it didn't take long to uncover his second WhatsApp account. She signed in, and right away, messages popped up from a profile with a cute pink kitten avatar, labeled "Baby." Shanna: [Bradly, thanks for tonight. Without you, I wouldn't have known what to do.] Shanna: [I've always thought meeting you was the luckiest thing that's ever happened to me. I won't intrude on your life. As long as you swing by to see me once in a while, that's enough to make me happy.] Stella scrolled back through the history. She'd suspected as much, but seeing it all laid out still hit her like a punch to the chest, leaving her breathless. They chatted nearly every day. Shanna never missed a good morning message, and Bradly's replies had shifted over time, from total silence at first, to sporadic responses, and now to answering every single one. A chill spread through her. Stella clutched the phone tighter, knowing she should quit while she was ahead but unable to stop herself from digging deeper. Shanna: [Bradly, sorry, I had a few drinks and lost it for a bit. Doc says I'm okay now, so don't stress.] Shanna: [Mrs. Woodard's birthday bash is important. Go enjoy it with her. I'll be fine.] Stella squeezed her eyes shut as the memory came rushing back. Her birthday. Bradly had spent over a month planning it down to the last detail, but that day, he was totally distracted. Hell, he almost cut his own hand while slicing the cake. When she'd asked what was up, he'd brushed it off as work drama, told her not to worry, then pulled her into a soft embrace and encouraged her to blow out the candles and make a wish. It all made sense now, as she stared at this chat log. That same day, Shanna had tried to kill herself by slashing her wrists and ended up in the ER. A sour bitterness flooded her chest like a rising tide. In those brief seconds when she'd closed her eyes to wish, she wondered, 'Was he agonizing over Shanna in the hospital, or picturing endless years together with her?' Stella knew she didn't need an answer to that anymore. She gently placed the phone back and looked down at Bradly, fast asleep beside her. She'd known him since she was four, and for the twenty years that followed, she'd truly believed his love was hers alone, irreplaceable. But now she saw it for what it was: just cheap free samples at a store, handed out to anyone who walked by. If that was all it amounted to, she was done with it. Chapter 2 Bid Against Her The next day, Stella woke to find Bradly busy in the kitchen, his broad shoulders narrowing to a slim waist, his tall, lean build moving with purpose. The sight hit her hard, a dull ache tightening in her chest. Bradly had learned to cook entirely for her sake. She still remembered that turbulent period when the Woodard Group was in crisis. His rivals had targeted her, paying off a servant to poison her food. She'd been unconscious for three full days. When she finally woke, Bradly was there, his eyes red-rimmed and veined with exhaustion, gripping her hand like a lifeline. The instant she stirred, the imposing Bradly crumbled forward, enveloping her in a hug as scalding tears fell onto her skin. From then on, Bradly threw himself into cooking lessons, taking charge of all her meals. In less than a month, he'd gone from a spoiled elite who couldn't distinguish spices to turning out dishes worthy of a Michelin chef. Just then, his phone rang. Stella glanced at it but made no move to answer. Bradly darted out of the kitchen, apron still on, grabbing the phone with a barely concealed flash of anxiety. Stella pretended not to notice and went to wash up. When she came back, the table was set with breakfast, and he was slipping into his suit jacket from the coat rack. Seeing her, he said gently, "There's an emergency at work. I have to run. Sorry I can't join you for breakfast." Stella murmured, "Sure, work comes first." He was clearly in a hurry, because he didn't pick up on the new edge of cool distance in her tone and rushed out. She stared blankly after him until he was gone, then dumped the entire spread into the trash. Then she picked up her phone and dialed a number. "That offer you made before? I'm on board." The person on the other end erupted in delight, chattering away before shifting to broken Andosa Language. "Stella, why the sudden change of heart? I've bugged you about this so many times, and you always said you were married now and focusing on family." A mocking glint flickered in Stella's eyes. She thought, 'Married? This so-called marriage has been dead on arrival.' The caller was her former mentor from her overseas studies. He'd reached out lately, hoping she'd join his new team and spearhead a major project. At the time, she'd kept saying no out of loyalty to Bradly. Now, she only wished she'd seen through the absurd joke of their marriage earlier. After the call, she contacted immigration to schedule a passport renewal. It would take about a week. But before heading out, she had one loose end to tie up. That evening, Stella showed up at a private auction at the Cloud Hotel. She was after one of her mother's keepsakes. Her mom had died when she was eight, and soon after, the Daniels family had liquidated her wedding gift. Stella had been hunting down the items ever since. Over the years, she'd only reclaimed a few. Tonight's auction featured a bracelet from that collection, one her mother had picked up on a trip to Ijance. It was utterly unique, irreplaceable. Whatever it took, she was getting it back. Stella settled into her seat just as the auction was about to start. She was flipping through the catalog when Bradly's voice floated over. "Didn't I already pick out that royal blue sapphire set for you? Not good enough?" His voice carried that familiar tenderness. Shanna linked her arm with his, pouting playfully. "Your taste sucks! I want to pick my own birthday gift." Stella watched them quietly until Bradly threaded through the guests and their gazes collided by chance. The color drained from his face. On pure reflex, he jerked his arm away from Shanna. "Stella." He strode over quickly. "I tried calling you a few times, but you didn't answer. Were you planning to surprise me?" Even though he tried to play it cool, she could still catch that subtle hint of panic in his expression. Stella didn't bother calling him on it, replying evenly, "My phone was on silent. I didn't hear it." Bradly visibly relaxed, casually taking her hand in his with a look of concern. "Your hands are like ice. Didn't I warn you about the cold snap today? You're always putting style over staying warm. If you catch a chill, you know it'll just kill me." As he talked, he signaled a server for a blanket and draped it snugly around her shoulders. Stella kept a straight face, brushing him off as she looked past him to Shanna, who lingered behind with a scowl. Shanna nibbled her lip, then defiantly dropped into the seat next to Bradly, her gaze simmering with irritation. Bradly leaned closer, dropping his voice to explain, "We just wrapped up a major project at the company, and Shanna pulled her weight big time. Her birthday's around the corner, so I thought I'd treat her to something as a project bonus." He eyed her anxiously. "Stella, you're not mad, right?" Shanna piped up in a soft, vulnerable tone. "Mrs. Woodard, if this upsets you, I'll just go. I don't want to get in the way of you and Mr. Woodard." Stella's mouth quirked into a smile that never touched her eyes. "We're married. A little thing like this? Of course it doesn't bother me." The auction got underway shortly after. Bradly treated Shanna like she was invisible, focusing entirely on Stella. He paged through the catalog, throwing in bids left and right. "Babe, this would look amazing on you." He grinned, tenderly brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his tone warm and intimate. "You'd be gorgeous in it." Stella averted her eyes, but out of the corner of her vision, she saw Shanna discreetly clutching the edge of Bradly's jacket in the dim light. Their gazes locked for a split second in a shared, lingering look. She masked the derision in her own eyes, struck by how absurd it all was. Bradly seemed totally at ease juggling both women, convinced he was keeping things balanced, one with the official status, the other with his undivided public attention. She thought, 'What could be fairer than that?' But Stella had never been interested in that kind of equilibrium. Her world extended far beyond romance. Bradly? He was just a small detour on her path, a misstep she'd own up to. And now, it was time to set things right. "Next up: a string of bracelet. Fine-grained texture, deep aroma that lingers. Starting bid at 170,000 dollars, with increments of at least 20,000 dollars!" The auctioneer's pumped-up voice echoed through the room. Finally, Stella's main target for the evening. Bids flew in fast, the screen flickering with updates as the auctioneer called out, "Number 17 lady at 200,000 dollars! Number 9 gentleman ups it to 260,000 dollars! Going higher?" Once the initial frenzy tapered off, Stella lifted her paddle. "500,000 dollars." She'd doubled the current bid in one go. It was a hefty amount. Sure, the bracelet was top-notch, but it wasn't the auction's highlight. The room went quiet after her call; no one countered. "Fantastic! Number 11 lady at 500,000 dollars! "500,000 dollars once! 500,000 dollars twice!" The auctioneer hoisted his gavel, poised to bring it down. "No more bids? Then 500,000 dollars—" "520,000 dollars," A gentle, hesitant voice interrupted. Shanna shrank against Bradly's side, paddle in hand, murmuring timidly to him, "Is this where I put in the amount?" Chapter 3 You're Dirty Stella frowned and raised her bid. "540,000 dollars." But Shanna was right behind her, countering with, "560,000 dollars." How annoyingly precise, each time, she stuck to the bare minimum, slapping on just 20,000 dollars more than Stella's offer. Shanna turned toward her, her voice dripping with plea. "Stella, you've got plenty of jewelry already. Please, let me have this one. I adore it. "I'm not like you, born with money, everything handed to you on a silver platter. You snap your fingers and get whatever you want. If it goes any higher, I really won't be able to keep up." Stella didn't bother looking at her, just quirking her lips in a thin smile. "Isn't Mr. Woodard covering the cost for you? What are you stressing about?" Shanna's face went a shade paler, but she answered in that soft, demure tone, "Even so, Mr. Woodard earns his money the hard way. If I can save him a bit, I ought to." She was the epitome of considerate and caring. After several more back-and-forth bids, the bracelet's price had soared to 700,000 dollars. Stella let out a chilly scoff and was opening her mouth to up the ante when Bradly beat her to it. He said, "Babe, why don't we just let Shanna take this bracelet?" Stella's fingers curled into a tight fist, her nails biting into her palm. She lifted her gaze, any lingering warmth in her eyes turning to ice. "What did you just say?" Bradly let out a resigned sigh, giving her hand a comforting pat as he murmured gently, "Babe, I already told Shanna she'd get a gift tonight, and she's got her heart set on this one. No need to compete with her. "Plus, I've already snagged you a handful of other pieces. Isn't that plenty?" He said it all lightly, teasingly, as if it were nothing more than a harmless quip. Stella shut her eyes, a nameless sourness creeping along her nerves, coiling around her heart until it felt like she couldn't draw a breath. Given Shanna's modest background, 700,000 dollars was way out of her league. She wouldn't even make the guest list here on her own. The only reason she was in that seat, trading bids blow for blow, was Bradly's backing. His pampering had delivered her straight into Stella's path. Stella whispered, "What if I refuse to back down?" She hoisted her paddle once more, her voice echoing through the room. "1 million dollars." A hush blanketed the hall. The auctioneer clearly picked up on the drama, his delivery faltering. "Number eleven at 1 million dollars. Do I hear higher?" Shanna's eyes welled up, on the verge of tears, as she cast a helpless look at Bradly before tacking on another fifty thousand. "1 million 20 thousand dollars." Stella's features hardened to frost, and she was poised to fire back when the manager bustled over, bending close to murmur, "Mrs. Woodard, apologies. We ran a credit verification on your account, and it's frozen. Got another one we can use?" The words slammed into her like a bolt from the blue, ringing in her ears. She snapped her head toward Bradly, but he'd already looked away. An icy numbness spread through her arms and legs. She though,t 'Of course, it has to be him.' Her primary account was linked with his; besides her, only he could authorize a freeze on her cards. Triumph flickered in Shanna's eyes as she added with a pointed edge, "Well, in that case, Mrs. Woodard, maybe it's time to step aside. You've got so much already. Can't you let me have this one little thing?" Up on stage, the auction rolled on, the display frozen on Shanna's latest bid: 1 million 20 thousand dollars. Shanna could hardly hide her glee, chirping sweetly, "Go on, call it!" But the words had barely left her lips when someone announced he would bid for the lot at any costs right in the second-floor VIP suite. After a momentary silence, the room burst into chaos. "He's declared absolute intent!" Even the auctioneer's expression changed. He'd been in the game for over a decade, but this was his first encounter with such a scenario. He hurriedly called out, "Lot number six goes to the gentleman in box 217, regardless of how high the price goes." Anyone up in those second-floor VIP suites was either swimming in money or held serious sway in Ostralver's upper crust. Stella glanced upward toward the source of the voice, catching only a vague outline behind the draped curtains. Even when she couldn't see his face, the man's crossed-legged posture radiated an unspoken dominance that pressed down on the room. The auctioneer slammed his gavel down with finality, proclaiming, "Congratulations to our esteemed guest in box 217 on winning lot number six! You're now upgraded to black gold status!" Across all of Ostralver's elite scene, fewer than a handful had ever hit black gold level at these events. Stella wondered, 'Just who is this mystery man?' Stella loosened her clenched fist slightly, torn between relief that her mother's heirloom hadn't landed in Shanna's clutches and anxiety over reclaiming it from this unknown figure. No matter what, she'd stop at nothing, pay any price, to bring her mother's possession home. She rose to her feet, intent on marching over to box 217 for a chat, when the attendant who'd just ducked inside reappeared, tray in hand with the bracelet. "What's this? The bidder in 217 having second thoughts?" "Auctions don't do take-backs." "Probably short on funds. I called it. No one's done this here before." As the murmurs swirled, the attendant headed straight for Stella, dipping into a courteous bow with a warm smile. She said, "Mrs. Woodard, the gentleman in box 217 requests that I deliver the bracelet to you as a gift. He wishes for you to follow your true path and for all to unfold as it should." The place erupted in gossip once more, with guests shooting glances her way, some envious, others skeptical, many flat-out stunned. "Isn't that Mrs. Woodard? What's her deal with the upstairs guy?" "Likely just buttering up Mr. Woodard." "Nah, I don't buy it. Out of all the goodies tonight, why zero in on those beads for Mrs. Woodard? Sounds like she's got a real connection there." The buzz filtered through, and Bradly's face turned stone-cold. In a tight, edged voice, he demanded, "Stella, what's the story with you and whoever's in box 217?" Stella held his piercing stare and said flatly, "I have no idea who he is." "!" Bradly jumped up, clamping down on her wrist like a vice. Her soft, fair skin reddened almost instantly under the pressure. Stella winced sharply, jerking her arm back on reflex. "Bradly, have you lost your mind? Haven't you stirred up enough drama for one day?" But he barreled on, blind to her fury, his reddened eyes locked on her as if he could swallow her up. "What's really between you two? "Stella, through all our married years, I've bent over backward for you. Anything you desired, I served it up without question. Why would you betray me like this?" In his mind, it was already a done deal: she was entangled in something shady with the man above. If the guy was angling for a favor from him, Bradly would've recognized him right away. People in Ostralver didn't beat around the bush when they needed something from him. They came direct. The jab landed raw and direct. Bradly blinked, frozen for a beat as a flicker of alarm shot through his eyes. Chapter 4 Don't Know You'd Come Bradly said, "I'm sorry, Stella. I didn't mean it like that. I had no right getting jealous over you and some stranger. It's all on me." Bradly's eyes reddened. "But honestly, there's nothing going on between Shanna and me. I just brought her along as a thank-you. Can you let this slide?" Seeing his cue, Shanna ducked her head meekly, her voice catching. "That's right, Mrs. Woodard. I've been bending over backward to keep my distance from Mr. Woodard so you wouldn't get the wrong impression. "I'm not asking for the world, just a decent birthday gift. I didn't grow up with your advantages; you've had everything handed to you and even snagged a catch like Mr. Woodard. Can't I at least pick out something for myself?" "Just a gift, huh?" Stella closed in on her, one step at a time. "Ms. Erickson, I've never given a damn about this 'gift' you're going on about. What gets under my skin is you, a Woodard Group employee, crossing lines you have no business crossing." As they drew closer, Bradly instinctively stepped in front of Shanna, his voice soft and coaxing. "Stella, if it's bugging you this much, I'll transfer her to a branch office once the auction's over. "But for now, cut me some slack. Let Shanna have the bracelet. When we get home, name your price on anything, and it's yours." Shanna bobbed her head in agreement, tears glistening on her lashes as she pleaded, "Stella, I really adore this bracelet. You've got it all already. Why go after the one thing I want? "Or is this just because you hate my guts and can't resist taking shots at me?" "What makes you think I'd ever like you?" Stella let out a cold snort. "This belonged to me from the start. Why the hell would I give it up?" She took the bracelet from the attendant with casual ease, her smile sharp but empty. "Ms. Erickson, know your place." Her refusal to budge finally wore through Bradly's patience, erasing every bit of softness from his face. "Stella, do you have to humiliate me like this in front of everyone? Where does that leave my dignity? "It's just a crappy old bracelet. Am I really worth less to you than some trinket?" He said it with such conviction, as if he'd wiped from his memory the solemn vow he'd made when proposing: that he'd hunt down every single one of her mother's sold-off keepsakes, no matter what. Stella's hand flew up, delivering a resounding slap across his cheek. The sharp crack rang out, pulling shocked stares from every corner of the room. Bradly's head snapped sideways, his face livid as he fixed her with a glare, his words hissing through clenched teeth. "Stella, drop the drama already. Have I pampered you too much these days, turning you into this unreasonable nightmare?" Stella reined in her temper, keeping her tone even. "Bradly, you better not live to regret today." Without another word, she turned and walked out, not sparing a backward glance. As her figure receded, Shanna gently touched the angry red mark on Bradly's cheek, her voice full of worry. "Mr. Woodard, are you okay? "Stella's got no boundaries. How could she hit you with all these people watching?" Bradly swatted her hand aside, his nails digging into his palm as he stared after her retreating path. "I've spoiled her rotten, letting her forget that everything she has comes from me." Shanna peeked at his changing expression, testing the waters. "Mr. Woodard, about the bracelet..." Bradly rubbed his throbbing cheek, pulled a bank card from his pocket, and handed it over. "1.7 million dollars on there. Buy whatever catches your eye." Box 217, Stella rapped on the door, eager to thank the mystery bidder face-to-face. Silence. She caught a server walking by. "Excuse me, any idea where the gentleman from this box headed?" "He slipped out right after nabbing the last item," the server said. Disappointment flashed in her eyes, but Stella pressed on, "Do you know who he was?" The server gave her a regretful smile. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard, we're not allowed to spill on our VIPs. Don't make this harder for us." Catching herself, Stella moved out of the way. "Thanks all the same." By the time she made it home from the auction, an hour had ticked by. Stella went straight up to the study, fired up the computer, and dove into the assets registered under her and Bradly's names. After tallying up the numbers, she snatched her phone, found lawyer Rubin Cobb's contact, and hit dial. She said, "I've sorted out the asset division documents for me and Bradly and sent them over. I need you to handle the property split by tomorrow." Rubin quickly received the files and nodded respectfully. "Of course, Mrs. Woodard. I'll get right on it." Stella stared intently at her computer screen, her grip tightening on the mouse. "If Bradly's committed bigamy, how should our assets be divided?" "Generally, any property the bigamous party gained through the bigamy can be claimed back by the other spouse," Rubin replied matter-of-factly. Half of Bradly's current wealth had come from Stella's investments to support his career early on. Her expression darkened, and she promptly forwarded the marriage license between him and Shanna. "Rubin, please use every legal avenue to recover my half of the assets." After hanging up, Stella slumped back in her chair, utterly drained physically and emotionally. She closed her eyes slowly, but sleep was nowhere in sight. Bradly would never agree to a divorce. Until she had everything locked down, she couldn't let on that anything was amiss. Just then, the study door was kicked open from the outside. Bradly flung his jacket onto the desk and yanked Stella up from her seat in front of the computer. "Do you realize that because of your little outburst, I've become a laughingstock in our circles? "What exactly do you want? Are you still obsessing over what happened back then?" Stella opened her eyes slowly, her gaze settling calmly on Bradly, but she remained silent. A fire raged in Bradly's chest, intensifying by the second, and he couldn't hold back his fury any longer. "Since we got married, have I ever done anything to wrong you? I come home right on time every night after work, I always fill you in on any business dinners, and if there's even a hint of a woman involved, I skip them entirely! I've bent over backward, and it's still not good enough for you?" He remembered every detail crystal clear. In his mind, these were the sacrifices he'd made to marry her. Stella suddenly found the whole thing absurd. She couldn't bear to look at him anymore, so she stood up and walked straight out of the study without a backward glance. Behind her, Bradly's voice echoed heavily. "Stella, no matter what you think, my conscience is clear." It felt like Stella's heart had been shattered into icy fragments, a sharp, bitter pain surging through her. Her mind buzzed, and for a moment, all she could hear was that phrase repeating over and over. She thought, 'My conscience is clear? So, in his eyes, everything he's done is perfectly justifiable.' The next morning, when Stella woke up, Bradly was already gone. On the table sat the breakfast he'd prepared, tailored exactly to her tastes. Stella pressed her lips together, her feelings a complicated tangle. They'd ended things on a sour note last night, yet Bradly had still made her breakfast this morning. But this was the same man who'd lied to her for years. No matter what, it was time to end things with Bradly. She didn't touch the food and headed straight to the office. These past few years, she'd stayed out of Bradly's business dealings. A lot of her old financial records were outdated now, and she needed the latest reports. The secretary looked startled when she saw her, then managed to say, "Mrs. Woodard, are you here to see Mr. Woodard?" "No." Stella replied evenly. "Send the finance manager in to see me." Her shares were second only to Bradly's, giving her full access to every aspect of the company. The secretary hesitated briefly before nodding. Stella noticed her immediately turning to make a phone call, probably alerting Bradly. Stella didn't intervene; let her. She settled into the finance office, sipping her coffee absentmindedly while flipping through magazines on the shelf. Most were glossy entertainment rags, mixed in with novels and comics. Stella frowned, only now picking up on the details: the desk was covered in a pink plaid mat, cluttered with adorable plush toys. The standout pair was a set of couple dolls, their outfits emblazoned with the letters W and E. It hit Stella suddenly what that meant, and just then, the door behind her swung open. Shanna rushed in. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard." She was clutching a cup of coffee as she apologized. "I had no idea you'd drop by like this..." Chapter 5 All For Milford Stella arched an eyebrow as she looked her over. "So you're the finance manager?" Shanna nodded with a quick smile. "That's me. If you need anything at all, just say the word. Bradly, well, Mr. Woodard is tied up in a meeting right now. But don't worry, I'll make sure to relay whatever message you have." Stella let out a soft laugh. "No need for that." She regarded Shanna with clear curiosity. "I'm not looking for Bradly. I'm here to see you." Shanna's smile faltered for a moment before she recovered, her tone turning gentle. "Mrs. Woodard, I get that you're still bothered by what went down at the auction last night, but there's no reason to be so worked up about my connection to Mr. Woodard. After all..." She raised her hand, the elegant diamond ring on her finger glinting under the light, perfectly complementing her bashful grin. "I'm already married, and things are great between me and my husband." Stella's eyes locked on the ring, her breath hitching just for an instant. It was ridiculous. In this whole messed-up situation, she was the one playing the role of the mistress. The ring was an exact match for the one Bradly had given her during his proposal. But within seconds, Stella averted her gaze. "It's a lovely ring, but you're mistaken." She spoke unhurriedly, "I'm just here to grab the latest financial report from you. That's all." Stella caught the sour shift in Shanna's expression and smiled to herself. "Seems like you're the one on edge here, Ms. Erickson." Shanna's face transformed completely, that smug spark in her eyes snuffed out. She bit her lip, unable to find words for a long beat. Stella watched her with unruffled poise. "Do I need to repeat my request, Ms. Erickson?" The words had barely left her mouth when Bradly burst in, his expression clouding over at the sight. "Stella, wasn't the scene from last night enough?" His voice was laced with ice. "How long are you planning to drag this out? I've told you already. There's nothing going on between me and Shanna. If you don't believe me..." Stella interrupted him mid-sentence, "Oh, I believe you. Absolutely." A faint smirk tugged at her lips, though her eyes remained frosty as they settled on Shanna. "After all, Ms. Erickson's already married. She just mentioned it herself." The statement landed like a bomb. Shanna's face drained of color, and Bradly's followed suit. He shot her a withering glare. Tears sprang to Shanna's eyes in an instant. Stella had no interest in watching the drama unfold any further. She said evenly, "I'm here for this year's financials. I hold forty percent of the company. Surely I can access that, right?" Bradly seemed to snap back to reality, nodding hastily. "Of course you can." He barked orders at the secretary to fetch it immediately, all the while stealing wary glances at her face. Once he confirmed she wasn't giving anything away, he exhaled almost imperceptibly in relief. He said, "Stella, what's with the sudden interest? You've never bothered with company matters before." Stella answered coolly, "After the account freeze last night, I decided it's smarter to set up a separate one." Bradly's expression froze again. "Stella..." The secretary returned promptly with the report. Stella brushed Bradly aside, skimmed through it quickly, and was heading for the door when he caught her by the wrist. He said, "Stella, about the family dinner tonight, are you coming home with me?" His tone was pleading, like he needed her answer to reassure himself that she hadn't caught on to anything fishy. Stella didn't look back, just replying calmly, "Sure." Bradly's face lit up. "Great, I'll swing by after work to pick you up." Stella dropped her gaze, masking the cool detachment in her eyes. She'd only agreed to head back to the family estate for one specific reason. The marriage license from when she and Bradly had tied the knot was a phony, but he'd made a whole production out of stashing it away at the house, claiming it had to be kept secure. Nothing could serve as stronger proof. Once she got her hands on it, his bigamy would be ironclad. Stella didn't bother waiting for Bradly; she hailed a cab and got there ahead of time. She'd figured it was just a standard family gathering, but she was caught off guard by the full turnout. Bradly's parents, fresh from their overseas vacation last week, were back, and even the distant relatives from the Woodard family's side branches had shown up en masse. "Stella, dear." As she walked in, Nadine Woodard peered over her shoulder. "Bradly didn't come with you?" Stella answered evenly, "He'll be along shortly." Nadine clicked her tongue, her irritation obvious. "On an important occasion like this, letting someone from outside the family arrive solo, what's got into him?" Stella's brow furrowed just a touch. She and Bradly had been engaged since childhood, but after her mother's passing, the Daniels family's status had tanked while the Woodard family kept climbing. That was when Nadine started pushing to scrap the arrangement, and she'd mentioned it more than a few times. But Chuck Woodard was upright and principled, flat-out refusing to play the social-climbing game. With Bradly dead set on marrying her and no one else, Nadine had reluctantly given in, though she made her resentment clear. Even after the marriage, she never passed up an opportunity to give Stella the cold shoulder. She was about to add something else when the butler rushed in and murmured, "He's here." Nadine promptly dropped the subject with Stella and jumped to her feet, the extended family hustling out right behind her to welcome the arrivals. The level of pomp surprised Stella. The Woodard family was already at the top of Ostralver's social elite. For them to pull out all the stops like this... Standing at the edge of the group, Stella glanced up and saw a black Maybach rolling up to the front of the estate. Someone hurried forward to open the door respectfully, and a tall, imposing figure stepped out unhurriedly. The man wore a sleek black suit, his chiseled features sharp, eyes as midnight, radiating a fierce intensity. Every gesture exuded a natural poise and authority that made it tough to hold his stare. The crowd swarmed forward in a rush, but he stayed cool and detached the whole time, his stunningly handsome face as impassive as carved ice, showing zero emotion. Then, as if picking up on something, he looked up toward Stella. Their eyes locked unexpectedly, sending her heart pounding. It was Milford Woodard, Bradly's brother. He'd returned to the country. Though they were brothers in name, Milford wasn't all that tight with the family. He'd headed overseas young and had spent years growing the business abroad. His father Edward Woodard was a total lightweight, good only at spending cash, not earning it. His grandpa Chuck had the smarts and drive, but age was catching up, leaving him unable to manage it all. Real power over the Woodard family had shifted to Milford ages ago. Stella let out a quiet breath. She thought, 'That explains the big crowd today. They've all turned out for Milford.' Chapter 6 Need Help? Stella lingered in the corner of the living room, watching the relatives descend like a swarm of locusts, all scrambling to surround Milford. Bradly stood next to Nadine, flashing a polished smile as he greeted, "Hey, Milford." The uncles who'd been buttering up Bradly just a minute ago quickly switched gears, beaming with over-the-top enthusiasm as they stepped up to say hello. "Milford, what prompted the sudden return?" "Milford, I hear you're in the middle of acquiring a domestic company? You're just getting more impressive by the day." "Come on inside, take a seat. We've got some top-shelf coffee." Bradly caught the stark contrast in the uncles' warmth, his smile fading briefly before he pulled it together and led the way forward. Stella quietly eyed the tall, strikingly handsome Milford striding into the living room like the star of the show, instinctively edging back a step. Now fully pushed to the fringes of the crowd, she shifted aside to let the trailing group pass, doing everything she could to blend into the wallpaper. Milford approached steadily. Unlike Bradly's flashy, outgoing vibe, he had a more brooding, aloof kind of handsomeness, like a pine tree blanketed in snow, regal and intimidating. He acknowledged the flattery around him with simple nods, his eyes scanning the room casually, subtly taking stock of everyone there. Until his gaze swept over Stella again, and he came to an abrupt halt. He paused, causing Bradly to stop too. "Something wrong, Milford?" Milford didn't respond, his steady gaze fixed on Stella. It was only a look, but it jolted her to her core. She felt an odd sense of being claimed, uninvited. Yet she'd barely crossed paths with Milford before. Bradly and the others traced his stare, his eyebrow quirking up. "Stella, come say hi to Big Milford." Stella started to step forward, but Milford beat her to it, walking straight toward her. Bradly and the rest exchanged surprised glances. So far, everyone had been approaching Milford. He hadn't initiated with a soul. Milford's deep eyes gave nothing away. "Stella?" Her breath hitched, like a faint breeze had brushed her ear. She hadn't anticipated him coming over to chat. It had been years, and they'd only met once or twice, but he still remembered her. Stella nodded. "Milford, it's been ages—" Before she could finish, Milford held out his hand. The move was so casual, so natural. Out of pure reflex and politeness, Stella extended hers, their palms connecting. In that brief clasp, she felt him squeeze gently, his thumb settling on her fingers and grazing them with a warm intensity. Milford released after just a second. Suddenly, Bradly sidled up, drawing Stella into his side with an arm around her waist, lacing his fingers through her left hand. He said, "Milford, how long are you in town this time? Stella and I can take you out to dinner one of these days." Milford took in their cozy pose, his glance dropping to their intertwined hands. "About a month." The words had barely left his mouth when Chuck came down the stairs, leaning on the butler for support. Milford headed over to talk with him. Not long after, the kitchen called that the party was ready. Stella trailed Bradly to their seats on the left side of the main table. Everyone filed in and sat. As the eldest branch, the two Woodard brothers took priority. Chuck claimed the head of the main table, with Nadine and Milford next in line. Stella and Bradly fell further down the order, landing her right across from Milford on the diagonal. The family feast got underway, with everyone firing questions at Milford about what he'd been up to lately. Stella kept her head down, nibbling at her food while catching bits of the conversation. Zrester bigwig, major stakeholder in Wonder Group, founder of that financial exchange and the smart transportation AI... Milford's credentials were endless and mind-blowing. She thought back to that Zrester party invite list she'd snagged years ago. Milford was third from the top, while she languished at the bottom. In all these years, she'd had next to no interaction with him. Right after the wedding, this mysterious Milford had only shown up once. He dropped off a gift and vanished. In just a handful of years, Milford had climbed to the pinnacle of Zrester's power players. His talent was obvious. Before long, the family party wound down, and folks scattered to grab desserts. Still hung up on that marriage license, Stella excused herself to head upstairs for a coat change. Bradly was itching to chat with Milford, his gaze fixed that way as he muttered distractedly, "Yeah, go on up." Stella wasted no time hustling upstairs. With the crowd milling about downstairs, she slipped to the third floor of the villa and nudged open Bradly's bedroom door. There it was: the glaring marriage license perched right on top of the nightstand, framed, flanked by their wedding portrait. As she stepped closer, memories of Bradly's cozy moments with Shanna flooded her brain, her nails digging slowly into her palm. That license seared her eyes, like it was sneering at her gullibility. She never should've caved, never should've handed Bradly a second shot. It just went to show that people's hearts circled back for seconds. Disgust flickered in her eyes as she hauled the desk's computer chair over, the kind with wheels and a swivel, shaky at best. She climbed onto it, planting one foot on the bed for stability, teetering just enough to hold steady. Stella hiked up her pearl-white knee-length dress a bit and stretched upward slowly. Fingers extended to the max, but she was still a couple inches shy. She rose onto her tiptoes, straining, but no dice. Frowning from her perch, she scanned around and snagged a book from beside the cabinet. As she leaned down, footsteps suddenly echoed outside the door. Fast, but measured. A man's, for sure. Her pulse spiked. She clutched the table, scrambling to hop down, but, perfect timing, her other sleeve caught on the cabinet's edge. She tugged frantically to break free, but it was too late to descend. The door flew open out of nowhere. Stella went rigid, her knees giving way as she toppled backward off the chair. A quick yelp escaped her, but the expected crash never hit. A firm hand latched precisely onto her thigh, another banding around her waist, hauling her into a solid hold and planting her feet firmly on the floor. She slammed into a warm, toned chest, a crisp, grounding sandalwood aroma enveloping her, not Bradly's scent. Stella glanced up, nearly clipping the guy's chin. Milford let go right away, backing off a step to give her space. Her cheeks burned, the thigh he'd gripped feeling like it was on fire. Mortified and frozen, she stammered, "Th-thanks." Milford stayed composed, his eyes skimming her flushed face and the pinkened patch of skin on her thigh from his hold. His Adam's apple dipped subtly. "Didn't realize you were in here. My bad." Stella shook her head, even more flustered. She was the one imposing on him. Milford flicked a glance upward. "Need some help?" She looked too. Up top, the marriage license screamed for attention. Chapter 7 Don't Let Me Hate You Stella just came out with it. "I want to get the marriage license down." Milford hesitated for a beat, without probing why she needed it, and slid the chair out of the way. Tall and long-limbed, he barely had to tip up on his toes to snag it effortlessly. Milford skimmed the lettering on the license, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes before the faintest quirk tugged at his lips, almost undetectable. He passed it over to Stella. "Ah, I see." She missed the words, taking it with a soft murmur: "Thanks, Milford." Her palms were slick with sweat now, but holding the certificate still sent an icy shiver through her. Those bold letters were a brutal reminder. This whole marriage had been one big joke. From beginning to end, Bradly's grand performance of undying love had always had a third wheel in the shadows. Milford dropped his gaze. Towering over her, all he could make out was the neat swirl at the top of her head, round and oddly appealing. Those slim, pale hands gripped the certificate like a vise, completely bloodless. Milford asked offhandedly, "So, what's the marriage license for?" "Oh, I just want to bring it home and store it there," Stella shot back, pulling an excuse out of thin air. Milford's stare felt like it enveloped her, the heat of it almost scorching, though he kept his hands to himself. Then he casually adjusted his cufflinks and turned to go. Stella let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, sagging against the cool cabinet. Her thigh still tingled with warmth from his grip; she quickly smoothed her skirt down, tucked the license into her bag, and only left the room once everything looked undisturbed. Bradly was still out in the back garden, deep in conversation. Stella kept her face neutral, strolling over to stand at his side. A few relatives were chatting with him. "Hey, word is Milford actually got back a couple days ago, but only tipped us off today." Bradly looked taken aback. "I thought he was flying in today?" "Nope, sounds like he hit up some auction. I only heard bits and pieces, supposedly the other night at the Empire Auction House." "He must not have gone. I was there that evening too, and I didn't see him anywhere," Bradly said, frowning in confusion. Stella's eyelashes flickered subtly, but she played it cool. Out of nowhere, her mind jumped back to that enigmatic bidder in suite 217. She wondered, 'Could Milford be the mystery guest who got the bracelet for me?' She shoved the thought down as soon as it surfaced. They'd only crossed paths once, total strangers really, connected by the flimsiest in-law tie. No matter how you sliced it, Milford wouldn't stick his neck out for her. Just like Bradly said, he hadn't caught wind of anything, so it couldn't be Milford. Stella let it go. After some more mingling, the group started to break up. Bradly steered her over to bid farewell to Milford. "Mom, Milford, we're taking off. Let's set up a family dinner soon when things settle." Milford slouched back in his chair with effortless nonchalance and gave a nod. "I'm knee-deep in an acquisition, no hurry on the get-together. But you..." He lifted his head, his expression sharpening. "Keep your life on the straight and narrow. Don't veer off track." The edge of warning in his voice was crystal clear. Bradly had grown up overshadowed by Milford; he went rigid but brushed it off casually. "Come on, everything's good. My company's running smooth as ever. If you're skeptical, drop by anytime and pore over the financials—knock yourself out." "It's not just about the company," Milford said softly, eyes down as he savored a sip of coffee. Stella couldn't help stealing a glance at him, and in that instant, a ridiculous idea struck her. From what Bradly had mentioned, Milford was abroad most of the time but still had the inside scoop on everything back home. She wondered, 'Does he know about the shady stuff Bradly is up to on the sly?' "Milford, I hear you. I'll make sure to nurture my marriage with Stella, our whole life together." Bradly grinned, threading his fingers through Stella's. Milford's gaze lingered on their joined hands for a second before drifting away, sealed with a subtle nod. Stella had no desire for any more close contact with Bradly, so she subtly shook his hand free without thinking. A split second later, his disbelieving stare locked onto her face, and he tried to grab her again. She'd known her move would humiliate him in the moment, so she didn't bother saying goodbye to Milford. She just turned and walked out ahead. Once they slid into the car, Bradly shed his polite, deferential mask from earlier, reverting to his entitled rich-kid swagger. He tugged his tie loose, a flicker of annoyance pinching his brows. "Always playing the big-brother card to chew me out, same crap since we were little. "So what if he's crushing it overseas? I'm holding my own just fine back home. Who in Ostralver would even think about messing with me?" Bradly fished out a menthol cigarette on autopilot, ready to light up, but he caught himself after glancing at Stella and shoved it back. He said, "All these years, folks have been whispering, or saying it straight to my face, that my company's thriving because of his pull. Like he's behind every damn thing. "And you? You flat-out refused to let me hold your hand back there. Trying to make me look like an idiot in front of him?" His expression iced over, the edge in his voice impossible to miss. Stella's frown deepened as she took it in. Even without knowing Milford all that well, she understood that Bradly's cocky antics in Ostralver, brushing people off like they were nothing, had always been propped up by Milford's clout. She'd assumed the brothers were tight, but clearly Bradly's respect was just for show; underneath, his grudge against Milford simmered deep. She could overlook a lot, but with things the way they were now, there was zero point in him putting on that phony hand-holding act. Stella gripped her bag, the one with the marriage license inside, and couldn't bite her tongue. "We haven't held hands in forever. It feels off to me." The car went dead quiet. She was right. Their physical closeness had dwindled so much that even she couldn't pinpoint the last time. Bradly's brow creased, and he snapped the cigarette filter clean off between his fingers. "What was that?" Stella met his eyes steadily. "From here on out, let's skip the pointless touchy-feely stuff. It just doesn't sit right." She hadn't even finished when the brakes screeched harshly. The car lurched to a halt on the empty shoulder of the road. Stella almost smacked into the window from the force, her pulse hammering as she barked, "Are you out of your mind?" Bradly loomed over her, fingers digging into her chin, irritation boiling in his glare. "Stella, do you have any idea what you're saying?" The pinch stung like crazy, and the absurdity of it all hit her as she wrestled to shove him off. "Is it not true? When's the last time we even held hands. Can you remember?" Bradly's gaze turned stormy, like she'd struck a raw spot. "I bet you're hung up on Milford, just like that girl from the second branch. That's why you pulled away in front of him. You're trying to cut ties with me?" "Bradly! What the hell are you babbling about?" Anger surged through her as she pushed harder. "Don't you dare pin your gross history on me!" The way the family had orbited Milford like he was the sun had obviously gotten under his skin. The more she resisted, the darker his look grew. Abruptly, he leaned in and smashed his mouth against hers. Stella's eyes flew wide, her head whipping aside to evade as she hammered at his shoulders with everything she had. He'd locked lips with Shanna god knows how often. The thought turned her stomach, so she clamped down and bit him hard. Bradly yelped in pain, jerking back as the fog cleared and he clocked what he'd just done, regret flashing across his face. Blood dotted his lip, but he brushed it off, lunging to wrap her in his arms. "I'm sorry, Stella, baby, I'm so sorry. I screwed up; it was a stupid impulse..." Drained of energy, Stella sagged into the passenger seat, letting him hold her while a barren wave of emptiness and revulsion washed over her. The hug she'd once melted into now repulsed her to her core. "Get off me." Her voice came out rough and scratchy. "Bradly, don't push me to hating you."
Chapter 1 Don't Want Him Anymore "I'm sorry, ma'am." On the other end of the line, the insurance customer service rep said coolly, "After checking our records, the car owner, Mr. Woodard, is indeed married, but the spouse listed here isn't you." Stella Daniels had gotten into a car accident on her way to the Woodard Group headquarters. She couldn't get through to Bradly Woodard on his phone, so she had no choice but to call the insurance company. The car was registered in Bradly's name, but as his wife, she should be able to process the claim too. "When Mr. Woodard picked up the car, he came with his wife and provided the original marriage license. Her last name is Erickson, and her full name is Shanna Erickson," the rep said. It hit Stella like a slap in the face. Dizziness washed over her in waves, leaving her whole body shaking uncontrollably. She and Bradly had been childhood sweethearts. Their families were old friends, and everyone in Ostralver's high society knew how clingy he was with her. Bradly couldn't stand being apart from her even for a single day. Three years ago, when Stella headed abroad for her studies, Bradly had the plane stopped just for her. During her three years in Ensland, he expanded his business overseas to make it easier to look after her. Sixteen thousand miles apart, he'd still fly across the ocean every week to see her. The year she came down with a severe lung illness and nearly didn't pull through, she spent a week in intensive care. Bradly ignored the infection risks and stayed right by her side, sliding a ring onto her finger. He said, "If anything happens to you, I'll go with you. We'll be husband and wife in the next life too." For Bradly's sake, she turned down her mentor's offer to stay on in the lab and headed back home. Brimming with excitement, she went to find him, planning to surprise him. But when she pushed open the door to the CEO's office, she saw a slender, pretty woman straddling his lap. The woman's innocent face tilted upward, her voice whiny and aggrieved. "Mr. Woodard, what happens to me now that Stella is back?" Bradly sat in his executive chair, his tall frame looming over her. A flash of ruthlessness crossed his stern features. "You? You're just her stand-in. Don't forget your place." He lifted his hand, pinching her delicate chin with a sneer. "Barely a three-out-of-ten resemblance, and you think you can compare to her?" Stella was still clutching the gift she'd prepared for him. With a loud "bang," it dropped to the floor, finally breaking the scene in the office. Bradly's face drained of color as he shoved the woman off and jumped to his feet. That woman was Shanna. After Stella caught them in the act, Bradly fired Shanna on the spot and pulled out all the stops to win her back. Bradly, the arrogant prince of Ostralver's elite circles, humbled himself to the dust before her, begging her to give him another chance. Any project she set her sights on, he'd drop without a second thought. He stood in the pouring rain outside her building for over a week, just for a glimpse of her. He said, "Stella, I'm not asking you to forgive me. At least let me explain. "I only ever saw Shanna as your replacement. You've been gone abroad for so long; I missed you terribly. I swear, I just kept her around. Nothing more ever happened between us. "That time you walked in, I'd had too much to drink, and she deliberately tempted me. I lost control for a moment... "I've already let her go, and she won't show up in our lives again. Stella, please, come back to me." Back then, Stella couldn't stand even the slightest betrayal. She insisted on breaking off the engagement. Until that one incident. She was kidnapped by a business rival. The kidnappers reneged on the deal, tied her up in an abandoned factory, and set the place ablaze. Bradly charged into the flames without a second thought to rescue her, shielding her from a collapsing steel beam. He ended up gravely injured, confined to bed for nearly six months. By risking his life, Bradly finally melted her resolve. Once he was out of the hospital, she accepted his proposal, and they threw a lavish wedding. In the two years since they tied the knot, he'd treated her just as devotedly as ever, with zero scandals. He even imposed a strict curfew on himself, heading home right on time every day. Even on out-of-town business trips, he'd video call her constantly. His partners would tease him about being henpecked. He never denied it. Instead, he'd grin proudly and say, "A real man takes care of his family." Memories rushed through Stella's mind like a whirlwind, every past moment flashing by in a blur. Her legs buckled, and she dropped to her knees, burying her face in her hands. She couldn't figure out which Bradly was the real one anymore. A bitter, mocking gleam sparked in her eyes. She thought, 'How absurd.' She'd been his wife for two years, and only now was she learning that even their marriage license had been a sham. Stella scrubbed her face hard, her bangs already soaked with cold sweat. She ignored the other driver's furious yelling and calmly dialed the police. They showed up fast. After finishing her statement, Stella left the station under a sky that had gone completely dark. Her phone lit up with several missed calls from Bradly. When she hadn't answered, he'd sent texts instead. Bradly: [Babe, I was tied up in a key meeting this afternoon. Signal jammers were on, so I missed your call. You okay?] Bradly: [I've got a client dinner tonight, so I'll be late getting home. I double-checked: no women involved, so no need to worry.] Bradly: [Head to bed early. Don't wait up. Love you.] Stella stared at the screen, a sharp wave of irony twisting in her gut. Bradly didn't stagger in until the wee hours. He reeked of alcohol, which almost, but not quite, masked the subtle whiff of perfume on him. "Honey..." He could barely keep his balance, stumbling over to wrap his arms around her through the blanket. "I missed you so damn much..." Stella didn't say a word. Only once he was dead to the world did she sit up quietly and unlock his phone with his fingerprint. The thing was squeaky clean, no suspicious traces at all. His contacts were mostly buddies and business folks, with hers pinned at the top as "Darling Wife." Flawlessly tidy, just like their sham of a marriage. Stella hooked the phone up to her computer, and it didn't take long to uncover his second WhatsApp account. She signed in, and right away, messages popped up from a profile with a cute pink kitten avatar, labeled "Baby." Shanna: [Bradly, thanks for tonight. Without you, I wouldn't have known what to do.] Shanna: [I've always thought meeting you was the luckiest thing that's ever happened to me. I won't intrude on your life. As long as you swing by to see me once in a while, that's enough to make me happy.] Stella scrolled back through the history. She'd suspected as much, but seeing it all laid out still hit her like a punch to the chest, leaving her breathless. They chatted nearly every day. Shanna never missed a good morning message, and Bradly's replies had shifted over time, from total silence at first, to sporadic responses, and now to answering every single one. A chill spread through her. Stella clutched the phone tighter, knowing she should quit while she was ahead but unable to stop herself from digging deeper. Shanna: [Bradly, sorry, I had a few drinks and lost it for a bit. Doc says I'm okay now, so don't stress.] Shanna: [Mrs. Woodard's birthday bash is important. Go enjoy it with her. I'll be fine.] Stella squeezed her eyes shut as the memory came rushing back. Her birthday. Bradly had spent over a month planning it down to the last detail, but that day, he was totally distracted. Hell, he almost cut his own hand while slicing the cake. When she'd asked what was up, he'd brushed it off as work drama, told her not to worry, then pulled her into a soft embrace and encouraged her to blow out the candles and make a wish. It all made sense now, as she stared at this chat log. That same day, Shanna had tried to kill herself by slashing her wrists and ended up in the ER. A sour bitterness flooded her chest like a rising tide. In those brief seconds when she'd closed her eyes to wish, she wondered, 'Was he agonizing over Shanna in the hospital, or picturing endless years together with her?' Stella knew she didn't need an answer to that anymore. She gently placed the phone back and looked down at Bradly, fast asleep beside her. She'd known him since she was four, and for the twenty years that followed, she'd truly believed his love was hers alone, irreplaceable. But now she saw it for what it was: just cheap free samples at a store, handed out to anyone who walked by. If that was all it amounted to, she was done with it. Chapter 2 Bid Against Her The next day, Stella woke to find Bradly busy in the kitchen, his broad shoulders narrowing to a slim waist, his tall, lean build moving with purpose. The sight hit her hard, a dull ache tightening in her chest. Bradly had learned to cook entirely for her sake. She still remembered that turbulent period when the Woodard Group was in crisis. His rivals had targeted her, paying off a servant to poison her food. She'd been unconscious for three full days. When she finally woke, Bradly was there, his eyes red-rimmed and veined with exhaustion, gripping her hand like a lifeline. The instant she stirred, the imposing Bradly crumbled forward, enveloping her in a hug as scalding tears fell onto her skin. From then on, Bradly threw himself into cooking lessons, taking charge of all her meals. In less than a month, he'd gone from a spoiled elite who couldn't distinguish spices to turning out dishes worthy of a Michelin chef. Just then, his phone rang. Stella glanced at it but made no move to answer. Bradly darted out of the kitchen, apron still on, grabbing the phone with a barely concealed flash of anxiety. Stella pretended not to notice and went to wash up. When she came back, the table was set with breakfast, and he was slipping into his suit jacket from the coat rack. Seeing her, he said gently, "There's an emergency at work. I have to run. Sorry I can't join you for breakfast." Stella murmured, "Sure, work comes first." He was clearly in a hurry, because he didn't pick up on the new edge of cool distance in her tone and rushed out. She stared blankly after him until he was gone, then dumped the entire spread into the trash. Then she picked up her phone and dialed a number. "That offer you made before? I'm on board." The person on the other end erupted in delight, chattering away before shifting to broken Andosa Language. "Stella, why the sudden change of heart? I've bugged you about this so many times, and you always said you were married now and focusing on family." A mocking glint flickered in Stella's eyes. She thought, 'Married? This so-called marriage has been dead on arrival.' The caller was her former mentor from her overseas studies. He'd reached out lately, hoping she'd join his new team and spearhead a major project. At the time, she'd kept saying no out of loyalty to Bradly. Now, she only wished she'd seen through the absurd joke of their marriage earlier. After the call, she contacted immigration to schedule a passport renewal. It would take about a week. But before heading out, she had one loose end to tie up. That evening, Stella showed up at a private auction at the Cloud Hotel. She was after one of her mother's keepsakes. Her mom had died when she was eight, and soon after, the Daniels family had liquidated her wedding gift. Stella had been hunting down the items ever since. Over the years, she'd only reclaimed a few. Tonight's auction featured a bracelet from that collection, one her mother had picked up on a trip to Ijance. It was utterly unique, irreplaceable. Whatever it took, she was getting it back. Stella settled into her seat just as the auction was about to start. She was flipping through the catalog when Bradly's voice floated over. "Didn't I already pick out that royal blue sapphire set for you? Not good enough?" His voice carried that familiar tenderness. Shanna linked her arm with his, pouting playfully. "Your taste sucks! I want to pick my own birthday gift." Stella watched them quietly until Bradly threaded through the guests and their gazes collided by chance. The color drained from his face. On pure reflex, he jerked his arm away from Shanna. "Stella." He strode over quickly. "I tried calling you a few times, but you didn't answer. Were you planning to surprise me?" Even though he tried to play it cool, she could still catch that subtle hint of panic in his expression. Stella didn't bother calling him on it, replying evenly, "My phone was on silent. I didn't hear it." Bradly visibly relaxed, casually taking her hand in his with a look of concern. "Your hands are like ice. Didn't I warn you about the cold snap today? You're always putting style over staying warm. If you catch a chill, you know it'll just kill me." As he talked, he signaled a server for a blanket and draped it snugly around her shoulders. Stella kept a straight face, brushing him off as she looked past him to Shanna, who lingered behind with a scowl. Shanna nibbled her lip, then defiantly dropped into the seat next to Bradly, her gaze simmering with irritation. Bradly leaned closer, dropping his voice to explain, "We just wrapped up a major project at the company, and Shanna pulled her weight big time. Her birthday's around the corner, so I thought I'd treat her to something as a project bonus." He eyed her anxiously. "Stella, you're not mad, right?" Shanna piped up in a soft, vulnerable tone. "Mrs. Woodard, if this upsets you, I'll just go. I don't want to get in the way of you and Mr. Woodard." Stella's mouth quirked into a smile that never touched her eyes. "We're married. A little thing like this? Of course it doesn't bother me." The auction got underway shortly after. Bradly treated Shanna like she was invisible, focusing entirely on Stella. He paged through the catalog, throwing in bids left and right. "Babe, this would look amazing on you." He grinned, tenderly brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his tone warm and intimate. "You'd be gorgeous in it." Stella averted her eyes, but out of the corner of her vision, she saw Shanna discreetly clutching the edge of Bradly's jacket in the dim light. Their gazes locked for a split second in a shared, lingering look. She masked the derision in her own eyes, struck by how absurd it all was. Bradly seemed totally at ease juggling both women, convinced he was keeping things balanced, one with the official status, the other with his undivided public attention. She thought, 'What could be fairer than that?' But Stella had never been interested in that kind of equilibrium. Her world extended far beyond romance. Bradly? He was just a small detour on her path, a misstep she'd own up to. And now, it was time to set things right. "Next up: a string of bracelet. Fine-grained texture, deep aroma that lingers. Starting bid at 170,000 dollars, with increments of at least 20,000 dollars!" The auctioneer's pumped-up voice echoed through the room. Finally, Stella's main target for the evening. Bids flew in fast, the screen flickering with updates as the auctioneer called out, "Number 17 lady at 200,000 dollars! Number 9 gentleman ups it to 260,000 dollars! Going higher?" Once the initial frenzy tapered off, Stella lifted her paddle. "500,000 dollars." She'd doubled the current bid in one go. It was a hefty amount. Sure, the bracelet was top-notch, but it wasn't the auction's highlight. The room went quiet after her call; no one countered. "Fantastic! Number 11 lady at 500,000 dollars! "500,000 dollars once! 500,000 dollars twice!" The auctioneer hoisted his gavel, poised to bring it down. "No more bids? Then 500,000 dollars—" "520,000 dollars," A gentle, hesitant voice interrupted. Shanna shrank against Bradly's side, paddle in hand, murmuring timidly to him, "Is this where I put in the amount?" Chapter 3 You're Dirty Stella frowned and raised her bid. "540,000 dollars." But Shanna was right behind her, countering with, "560,000 dollars." How annoyingly precise, each time, she stuck to the bare minimum, slapping on just 20,000 dollars more than Stella's offer. Shanna turned toward her, her voice dripping with plea. "Stella, you've got plenty of jewelry already. Please, let me have this one. I adore it. "I'm not like you, born with money, everything handed to you on a silver platter. You snap your fingers and get whatever you want. If it goes any higher, I really won't be able to keep up." Stella didn't bother looking at her, just quirking her lips in a thin smile. "Isn't Mr. Woodard covering the cost for you? What are you stressing about?" Shanna's face went a shade paler, but she answered in that soft, demure tone, "Even so, Mr. Woodard earns his money the hard way. If I can save him a bit, I ought to." She was the epitome of considerate and caring. After several more back-and-forth bids, the bracelet's price had soared to 700,000 dollars. Stella let out a chilly scoff and was opening her mouth to up the ante when Bradly beat her to it. He said, "Babe, why don't we just let Shanna take this bracelet?" Stella's fingers curled into a tight fist, her nails biting into her palm. She lifted her gaze, any lingering warmth in her eyes turning to ice. "What did you just say?" Bradly let out a resigned sigh, giving her hand a comforting pat as he murmured gently, "Babe, I already told Shanna she'd get a gift tonight, and she's got her heart set on this one. No need to compete with her. "Plus, I've already snagged you a handful of other pieces. Isn't that plenty?" He said it all lightly, teasingly, as if it were nothing more than a harmless quip. Stella shut her eyes, a nameless sourness creeping along her nerves, coiling around her heart until it felt like she couldn't draw a breath. Given Shanna's modest background, 700,000 dollars was way out of her league. She wouldn't even make the guest list here on her own. The only reason she was in that seat, trading bids blow for blow, was Bradly's backing. His pampering had delivered her straight into Stella's path. Stella whispered, "What if I refuse to back down?" She hoisted her paddle once more, her voice echoing through the room. "1 million dollars." A hush blanketed the hall. The auctioneer clearly picked up on the drama, his delivery faltering. "Number eleven at 1 million dollars. Do I hear higher?" Shanna's eyes welled up, on the verge of tears, as she cast a helpless look at Bradly before tacking on another fifty thousand. "1 million 20 thousand dollars." Stella's features hardened to frost, and she was poised to fire back when the manager bustled over, bending close to murmur, "Mrs. Woodard, apologies. We ran a credit verification on your account, and it's frozen. Got another one we can use?" The words slammed into her like a bolt from the blue, ringing in her ears. She snapped her head toward Bradly, but he'd already looked away. An icy numbness spread through her arms and legs. She though,t 'Of course, it has to be him.' Her primary account was linked with his; besides her, only he could authorize a freeze on her cards. Triumph flickered in Shanna's eyes as she added with a pointed edge, "Well, in that case, Mrs. Woodard, maybe it's time to step aside. You've got so much already. Can't you let me have this one little thing?" Up on stage, the auction rolled on, the display frozen on Shanna's latest bid: 1 million 20 thousand dollars. Shanna could hardly hide her glee, chirping sweetly, "Go on, call it!" But the words had barely left her lips when someone announced he would bid for the lot at any costs right in the second-floor VIP suite. After a momentary silence, the room burst into chaos. "He's declared absolute intent!" Even the auctioneer's expression changed. He'd been in the game for over a decade, but this was his first encounter with such a scenario. He hurriedly called out, "Lot number six goes to the gentleman in box 217, regardless of how high the price goes." Anyone up in those second-floor VIP suites was either swimming in money or held serious sway in Ostralver's upper crust. Stella glanced upward toward the source of the voice, catching only a vague outline behind the draped curtains. Even when she couldn't see his face, the man's crossed-legged posture radiated an unspoken dominance that pressed down on the room. The auctioneer slammed his gavel down with finality, proclaiming, "Congratulations to our esteemed guest in box 217 on winning lot number six! You're now upgraded to black gold status!" Across all of Ostralver's elite scene, fewer than a handful had ever hit black gold level at these events. Stella wondered, 'Just who is this mystery man?' Stella loosened her clenched fist slightly, torn between relief that her mother's heirloom hadn't landed in Shanna's clutches and anxiety over reclaiming it from this unknown figure. No matter what, she'd stop at nothing, pay any price, to bring her mother's possession home. She rose to her feet, intent on marching over to box 217 for a chat, when the attendant who'd just ducked inside reappeared, tray in hand with the bracelet. "What's this? The bidder in 217 having second thoughts?" "Auctions don't do take-backs." "Probably short on funds. I called it. No one's done this here before." As the murmurs swirled, the attendant headed straight for Stella, dipping into a courteous bow with a warm smile. She said, "Mrs. Woodard, the gentleman in box 217 requests that I deliver the bracelet to you as a gift. He wishes for you to follow your true path and for all to unfold as it should." The place erupted in gossip once more, with guests shooting glances her way, some envious, others skeptical, many flat-out stunned. "Isn't that Mrs. Woodard? What's her deal with the upstairs guy?" "Likely just buttering up Mr. Woodard." "Nah, I don't buy it. Out of all the goodies tonight, why zero in on those beads for Mrs. Woodard? Sounds like she's got a real connection there." The buzz filtered through, and Bradly's face turned stone-cold. In a tight, edged voice, he demanded, "Stella, what's the story with you and whoever's in box 217?" Stella held his piercing stare and said flatly, "I have no idea who he is." "!" Bradly jumped up, clamping down on her wrist like a vice. Her soft, fair skin reddened almost instantly under the pressure. Stella winced sharply, jerking her arm back on reflex. "Bradly, have you lost your mind? Haven't you stirred up enough drama for one day?" But he barreled on, blind to her fury, his reddened eyes locked on her as if he could swallow her up. "What's really between you two? "Stella, through all our married years, I've bent over backward for you. Anything you desired, I served it up without question. Why would you betray me like this?" In his mind, it was already a done deal: she was entangled in something shady with the man above. If the guy was angling for a favor from him, Bradly would've recognized him right away. People in Ostralver didn't beat around the bush when they needed something from him. They came direct. The jab landed raw and direct. Bradly blinked, frozen for a beat as a flicker of alarm shot through his eyes. Chapter 4 Don't Know You'd Come Bradly said, "I'm sorry, Stella. I didn't mean it like that. I had no right getting jealous over you and some stranger. It's all on me." Bradly's eyes reddened. "But honestly, there's nothing going on between Shanna and me. I just brought her along as a thank-you. Can you let this slide?" Seeing his cue, Shanna ducked her head meekly, her voice catching. "That's right, Mrs. Woodard. I've been bending over backward to keep my distance from Mr. Woodard so you wouldn't get the wrong impression. "I'm not asking for the world, just a decent birthday gift. I didn't grow up with your advantages; you've had everything handed to you and even snagged a catch like Mr. Woodard. Can't I at least pick out something for myself?" "Just a gift, huh?" Stella closed in on her, one step at a time. "Ms. Erickson, I've never given a damn about this 'gift' you're going on about. What gets under my skin is you, a Woodard Group employee, crossing lines you have no business crossing." As they drew closer, Bradly instinctively stepped in front of Shanna, his voice soft and coaxing. "Stella, if it's bugging you this much, I'll transfer her to a branch office once the auction's over. "But for now, cut me some slack. Let Shanna have the bracelet. When we get home, name your price on anything, and it's yours." Shanna bobbed her head in agreement, tears glistening on her lashes as she pleaded, "Stella, I really adore this bracelet. You've got it all already. Why go after the one thing I want? "Or is this just because you hate my guts and can't resist taking shots at me?" "What makes you think I'd ever like you?" Stella let out a cold snort. "This belonged to me from the start. Why the hell would I give it up?" She took the bracelet from the attendant with casual ease, her smile sharp but empty. "Ms. Erickson, know your place." Her refusal to budge finally wore through Bradly's patience, erasing every bit of softness from his face. "Stella, do you have to humiliate me like this in front of everyone? Where does that leave my dignity? "It's just a crappy old bracelet. Am I really worth less to you than some trinket?" He said it with such conviction, as if he'd wiped from his memory the solemn vow he'd made when proposing: that he'd hunt down every single one of her mother's sold-off keepsakes, no matter what. Stella's hand flew up, delivering a resounding slap across his cheek. The sharp crack rang out, pulling shocked stares from every corner of the room. Bradly's head snapped sideways, his face livid as he fixed her with a glare, his words hissing through clenched teeth. "Stella, drop the drama already. Have I pampered you too much these days, turning you into this unreasonable nightmare?" Stella reined in her temper, keeping her tone even. "Bradly, you better not live to regret today." Without another word, she turned and walked out, not sparing a backward glance. As her figure receded, Shanna gently touched the angry red mark on Bradly's cheek, her voice full of worry. "Mr. Woodard, are you okay? "Stella's got no boundaries. How could she hit you with all these people watching?" Bradly swatted her hand aside, his nails digging into his palm as he stared after her retreating path. "I've spoiled her rotten, letting her forget that everything she has comes from me." Shanna peeked at his changing expression, testing the waters. "Mr. Woodard, about the bracelet..." Bradly rubbed his throbbing cheek, pulled a bank card from his pocket, and handed it over. "1.7 million dollars on there. Buy whatever catches your eye." Box 217, Stella rapped on the door, eager to thank the mystery bidder face-to-face. Silence. She caught a server walking by. "Excuse me, any idea where the gentleman from this box headed?" "He slipped out right after nabbing the last item," the server said. Disappointment flashed in her eyes, but Stella pressed on, "Do you know who he was?" The server gave her a regretful smile. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard, we're not allowed to spill on our VIPs. Don't make this harder for us." Catching herself, Stella moved out of the way. "Thanks all the same." By the time she made it home from the auction, an hour had ticked by. Stella went straight up to the study, fired up the computer, and dove into the assets registered under her and Bradly's names. After tallying up the numbers, she snatched her phone, found lawyer Rubin Cobb's contact, and hit dial. She said, "I've sorted out the asset division documents for me and Bradly and sent them over. I need you to handle the property split by tomorrow." Rubin quickly received the files and nodded respectfully. "Of course, Mrs. Woodard. I'll get right on it." Stella stared intently at her computer screen, her grip tightening on the mouse. "If Bradly's committed bigamy, how should our assets be divided?" "Generally, any property the bigamous party gained through the bigamy can be claimed back by the other spouse," Rubin replied matter-of-factly. Half of Bradly's current wealth had come from Stella's investments to support his career early on. Her expression darkened, and she promptly forwarded the marriage license between him and Shanna. "Rubin, please use every legal avenue to recover my half of the assets." After hanging up, Stella slumped back in her chair, utterly drained physically and emotionally. She closed her eyes slowly, but sleep was nowhere in sight. Bradly would never agree to a divorce. Until she had everything locked down, she couldn't let on that anything was amiss. Just then, the study door was kicked open from the outside. Bradly flung his jacket onto the desk and yanked Stella up from her seat in front of the computer. "Do you realize that because of your little outburst, I've become a laughingstock in our circles? "What exactly do you want? Are you still obsessing over what happened back then?" Stella opened her eyes slowly, her gaze settling calmly on Bradly, but she remained silent. A fire raged in Bradly's chest, intensifying by the second, and he couldn't hold back his fury any longer. "Since we got married, have I ever done anything to wrong you? I come home right on time every night after work, I always fill you in on any business dinners, and if there's even a hint of a woman involved, I skip them entirely! I've bent over backward, and it's still not good enough for you?" He remembered every detail crystal clear. In his mind, these were the sacrifices he'd made to marry her. Stella suddenly found the whole thing absurd. She couldn't bear to look at him anymore, so she stood up and walked straight out of the study without a backward glance. Behind her, Bradly's voice echoed heavily. "Stella, no matter what you think, my conscience is clear." It felt like Stella's heart had been shattered into icy fragments, a sharp, bitter pain surging through her. Her mind buzzed, and for a moment, all she could hear was that phrase repeating over and over. She thought, 'My conscience is clear? So, in his eyes, everything he's done is perfectly justifiable.' The next morning, when Stella woke up, Bradly was already gone. On the table sat the breakfast he'd prepared, tailored exactly to her tastes. Stella pressed her lips together, her feelings a complicated tangle. They'd ended things on a sour note last night, yet Bradly had still made her breakfast this morning. But this was the same man who'd lied to her for years. No matter what, it was time to end things with Bradly. She didn't touch the food and headed straight to the office. These past few years, she'd stayed out of Bradly's business dealings. A lot of her old financial records were outdated now, and she needed the latest reports. The secretary looked startled when she saw her, then managed to say, "Mrs. Woodard, are you here to see Mr. Woodard?" "No." Stella replied evenly. "Send the finance manager in to see me." Her shares were second only to Bradly's, giving her full access to every aspect of the company. The secretary hesitated briefly before nodding. Stella noticed her immediately turning to make a phone call, probably alerting Bradly. Stella didn't intervene; let her. She settled into the finance office, sipping her coffee absentmindedly while flipping through magazines on the shelf. Most were glossy entertainment rags, mixed in with novels and comics. Stella frowned, only now picking up on the details: the desk was covered in a pink plaid mat, cluttered with adorable plush toys. The standout pair was a set of couple dolls, their outfits emblazoned with the letters W and E. It hit Stella suddenly what that meant, and just then, the door behind her swung open. Shanna rushed in. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard." She was clutching a cup of coffee as she apologized. "I had no idea you'd drop by like this..." Chapter 5 All For Milford Stella arched an eyebrow as she looked her over. "So you're the finance manager?" Shanna nodded with a quick smile. "That's me. If you need anything at all, just say the word. Bradly, well, Mr. Woodard is tied up in a meeting right now. But don't worry, I'll make sure to relay whatever message you have." Stella let out a soft laugh. "No need for that." She regarded Shanna with clear curiosity. "I'm not looking for Bradly. I'm here to see you." Shanna's smile faltered for a moment before she recovered, her tone turning gentle. "Mrs. Woodard, I get that you're still bothered by what went down at the auction last night, but there's no reason to be so worked up about my connection to Mr. Woodard. After all..." She raised her hand, the elegant diamond ring on her finger glinting under the light, perfectly complementing her bashful grin. "I'm already married, and things are great between me and my husband." Stella's eyes locked on the ring, her breath hitching just for an instant. It was ridiculous. In this whole messed-up situation, she was the one playing the role of the mistress. The ring was an exact match for the one Bradly had given her during his proposal. But within seconds, Stella averted her gaze. "It's a lovely ring, but you're mistaken." She spoke unhurriedly, "I'm just here to grab the latest financial report from you. That's all." Stella caught the sour shift in Shanna's expression and smiled to herself. "Seems like you're the one on edge here, Ms. Erickson." Shanna's face transformed completely, that smug spark in her eyes snuffed out. She bit her lip, unable to find words for a long beat. Stella watched her with unruffled poise. "Do I need to repeat my request, Ms. Erickson?" The words had barely left her mouth when Bradly burst in, his expression clouding over at the sight. "Stella, wasn't the scene from last night enough?" His voice was laced with ice. "How long are you planning to drag this out? I've told you already. There's nothing going on between me and Shanna. If you don't believe me..." Stella interrupted him mid-sentence, "Oh, I believe you. Absolutely." A faint smirk tugged at her lips, though her eyes remained frosty as they settled on Shanna. "After all, Ms. Erickson's already married. She just mentioned it herself." The statement landed like a bomb. Shanna's face drained of color, and Bradly's followed suit. He shot her a withering glare. Tears sprang to Shanna's eyes in an instant. Stella had no interest in watching the drama unfold any further. She said evenly, "I'm here for this year's financials. I hold forty percent of the company. Surely I can access that, right?" Bradly seemed to snap back to reality, nodding hastily. "Of course you can." He barked orders at the secretary to fetch it immediately, all the while stealing wary glances at her face. Once he confirmed she wasn't giving anything away, he exhaled almost imperceptibly in relief. He said, "Stella, what's with the sudden interest? You've never bothered with company matters before." Stella answered coolly, "After the account freeze last night, I decided it's smarter to set up a separate one." Bradly's expression froze again. "Stella..." The secretary returned promptly with the report. Stella brushed Bradly aside, skimmed through it quickly, and was heading for the door when he caught her by the wrist. He said, "Stella, about the family dinner tonight, are you coming home with me?" His tone was pleading, like he needed her answer to reassure himself that she hadn't caught on to anything fishy. Stella didn't look back, just replying calmly, "Sure." Bradly's face lit up. "Great, I'll swing by after work to pick you up." Stella dropped her gaze, masking the cool detachment in her eyes. She'd only agreed to head back to the family estate for one specific reason. The marriage license from when she and Bradly had tied the knot was a phony, but he'd made a whole production out of stashing it away at the house, claiming it had to be kept secure. Nothing could serve as stronger proof. Once she got her hands on it, his bigamy would be ironclad. Stella didn't bother waiting for Bradly; she hailed a cab and got there ahead of time. She'd figured it was just a standard family gathering, but she was caught off guard by the full turnout. Bradly's parents, fresh from their overseas vacation last week, were back, and even the distant relatives from the Woodard family's side branches had shown up en masse. "Stella, dear." As she walked in, Nadine Woodard peered over her shoulder. "Bradly didn't come with you?" Stella answered evenly, "He'll be along shortly." Nadine clicked her tongue, her irritation obvious. "On an important occasion like this, letting someone from outside the family arrive solo, what's got into him?" Stella's brow furrowed just a touch. She and Bradly had been engaged since childhood, but after her mother's passing, the Daniels family's status had tanked while the Woodard family kept climbing. That was when Nadine started pushing to scrap the arrangement, and she'd mentioned it more than a few times. But Chuck Woodard was upright and principled, flat-out refusing to play the social-climbing game. With Bradly dead set on marrying her and no one else, Nadine had reluctantly given in, though she made her resentment clear. Even after the marriage, she never passed up an opportunity to give Stella the cold shoulder. She was about to add something else when the butler rushed in and murmured, "He's here." Nadine promptly dropped the subject with Stella and jumped to her feet, the extended family hustling out right behind her to welcome the arrivals. The level of pomp surprised Stella. The Woodard family was already at the top of Ostralver's social elite. For them to pull out all the stops like this... Standing at the edge of the group, Stella glanced up and saw a black Maybach rolling up to the front of the estate. Someone hurried forward to open the door respectfully, and a tall, imposing figure stepped out unhurriedly. The man wore a sleek black suit, his chiseled features sharp, eyes as midnight, radiating a fierce intensity. Every gesture exuded a natural poise and authority that made it tough to hold his stare. The crowd swarmed forward in a rush, but he stayed cool and detached the whole time, his stunningly handsome face as impassive as carved ice, showing zero emotion. Then, as if picking up on something, he looked up toward Stella. Their eyes locked unexpectedly, sending her heart pounding. It was Milford Woodard, Bradly's brother. He'd returned to the country. Though they were brothers in name, Milford wasn't all that tight with the family. He'd headed overseas young and had spent years growing the business abroad. His father Edward Woodard was a total lightweight, good only at spending cash, not earning it. His grandpa Chuck had the smarts and drive, but age was catching up, leaving him unable to manage it all. Real power over the Woodard family had shifted to Milford ages ago. Stella let out a quiet breath. She thought, 'That explains the big crowd today. They've all turned out for Milford.' Chapter 6 Need Help? Stella lingered in the corner of the living room, watching the relatives descend like a swarm of locusts, all scrambling to surround Milford. Bradly stood next to Nadine, flashing a polished smile as he greeted, "Hey, Milford." The uncles who'd been buttering up Bradly just a minute ago quickly switched gears, beaming with over-the-top enthusiasm as they stepped up to say hello. "Milford, what prompted the sudden return?" "Milford, I hear you're in the middle of acquiring a domestic company? You're just getting more impressive by the day." "Come on inside, take a seat. We've got some top-shelf coffee." Bradly caught the stark contrast in the uncles' warmth, his smile fading briefly before he pulled it together and led the way forward. Stella quietly eyed the tall, strikingly handsome Milford striding into the living room like the star of the show, instinctively edging back a step. Now fully pushed to the fringes of the crowd, she shifted aside to let the trailing group pass, doing everything she could to blend into the wallpaper. Milford approached steadily. Unlike Bradly's flashy, outgoing vibe, he had a more brooding, aloof kind of handsomeness, like a pine tree blanketed in snow, regal and intimidating. He acknowledged the flattery around him with simple nods, his eyes scanning the room casually, subtly taking stock of everyone there. Until his gaze swept over Stella again, and he came to an abrupt halt. He paused, causing Bradly to stop too. "Something wrong, Milford?" Milford didn't respond, his steady gaze fixed on Stella. It was only a look, but it jolted her to her core. She felt an odd sense of being claimed, uninvited. Yet she'd barely crossed paths with Milford before. Bradly and the others traced his stare, his eyebrow quirking up. "Stella, come say hi to Big Milford." Stella started to step forward, but Milford beat her to it, walking straight toward her. Bradly and the rest exchanged surprised glances. So far, everyone had been approaching Milford. He hadn't initiated with a soul. Milford's deep eyes gave nothing away. "Stella?" Her breath hitched, like a faint breeze had brushed her ear. She hadn't anticipated him coming over to chat. It had been years, and they'd only met once or twice, but he still remembered her. Stella nodded. "Milford, it's been ages—" Before she could finish, Milford held out his hand. The move was so casual, so natural. Out of pure reflex and politeness, Stella extended hers, their palms connecting. In that brief clasp, she felt him squeeze gently, his thumb settling on her fingers and grazing them with a warm intensity. Milford released after just a second. Suddenly, Bradly sidled up, drawing Stella into his side with an arm around her waist, lacing his fingers through her left hand. He said, "Milford, how long are you in town this time? Stella and I can take you out to dinner one of these days." Milford took in their cozy pose, his glance dropping to their intertwined hands. "About a month." The words had barely left his mouth when Chuck came down the stairs, leaning on the butler for support. Milford headed over to talk with him. Not long after, the kitchen called that the party was ready. Stella trailed Bradly to their seats on the left side of the main table. Everyone filed in and sat. As the eldest branch, the two Woodard brothers took priority. Chuck claimed the head of the main table, with Nadine and Milford next in line. Stella and Bradly fell further down the order, landing her right across from Milford on the diagonal. The family feast got underway, with everyone firing questions at Milford about what he'd been up to lately. Stella kept her head down, nibbling at her food while catching bits of the conversation. Zrester bigwig, major stakeholder in Wonder Group, founder of that financial exchange and the smart transportation AI... Milford's credentials were endless and mind-blowing. She thought back to that Zrester party invite list she'd snagged years ago. Milford was third from the top, while she languished at the bottom. In all these years, she'd had next to no interaction with him. Right after the wedding, this mysterious Milford had only shown up once. He dropped off a gift and vanished. In just a handful of years, Milford had climbed to the pinnacle of Zrester's power players. His talent was obvious. Before long, the family party wound down, and folks scattered to grab desserts. Still hung up on that marriage license, Stella excused herself to head upstairs for a coat change. Bradly was itching to chat with Milford, his gaze fixed that way as he muttered distractedly, "Yeah, go on up." Stella wasted no time hustling upstairs. With the crowd milling about downstairs, she slipped to the third floor of the villa and nudged open Bradly's bedroom door. There it was: the glaring marriage license perched right on top of the nightstand, framed, flanked by their wedding portrait. As she stepped closer, memories of Bradly's cozy moments with Shanna flooded her brain, her nails digging slowly into her palm. That license seared her eyes, like it was sneering at her gullibility. She never should've caved, never should've handed Bradly a second shot. It just went to show that people's hearts circled back for seconds. Disgust flickered in her eyes as she hauled the desk's computer chair over, the kind with wheels and a swivel, shaky at best. She climbed onto it, planting one foot on the bed for stability, teetering just enough to hold steady. Stella hiked up her pearl-white knee-length dress a bit and stretched upward slowly. Fingers extended to the max, but she was still a couple inches shy. She rose onto her tiptoes, straining, but no dice. Frowning from her perch, she scanned around and snagged a book from beside the cabinet. As she leaned down, footsteps suddenly echoed outside the door. Fast, but measured. A man's, for sure. Her pulse spiked. She clutched the table, scrambling to hop down, but, perfect timing, her other sleeve caught on the cabinet's edge. She tugged frantically to break free, but it was too late to descend. The door flew open out of nowhere. Stella went rigid, her knees giving way as she toppled backward off the chair. A quick yelp escaped her, but the expected crash never hit. A firm hand latched precisely onto her thigh, another banding around her waist, hauling her into a solid hold and planting her feet firmly on the floor. She slammed into a warm, toned chest, a crisp, grounding sandalwood aroma enveloping her, not Bradly's scent. Stella glanced up, nearly clipping the guy's chin. Milford let go right away, backing off a step to give her space. Her cheeks burned, the thigh he'd gripped feeling like it was on fire. Mortified and frozen, she stammered, "Th-thanks." Milford stayed composed, his eyes skimming her flushed face and the pinkened patch of skin on her thigh from his hold. His Adam's apple dipped subtly. "Didn't realize you were in here. My bad." Stella shook her head, even more flustered. She was the one imposing on him. Milford flicked a glance upward. "Need some help?" She looked too. Up top, the marriage license screamed for attention. Chapter 7 Don't Let Me Hate You Stella just came out with it. "I want to get the marriage license down." Milford hesitated for a beat, without probing why she needed it, and slid the chair out of the way. Tall and long-limbed, he barely had to tip up on his toes to snag it effortlessly. Milford skimmed the lettering on the license, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes before the faintest quirk tugged at his lips, almost undetectable. He passed it over to Stella. "Ah, I see." She missed the words, taking it with a soft murmur: "Thanks, Milford." Her palms were slick with sweat now, but holding the certificate still sent an icy shiver through her. Those bold letters were a brutal reminder. This whole marriage had been one big joke. From beginning to end, Bradly's grand performance of undying love had always had a third wheel in the shadows. Milford dropped his gaze. Towering over her, all he could make out was the neat swirl at the top of her head, round and oddly appealing. Those slim, pale hands gripped the certificate like a vise, completely bloodless. Milford asked offhandedly, "So, what's the marriage license for?" "Oh, I just want to bring it home and store it there," Stella shot back, pulling an excuse out of thin air. Milford's stare felt like it enveloped her, the heat of it almost scorching, though he kept his hands to himself. Then he casually adjusted his cufflinks and turned to go. Stella let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, sagging against the cool cabinet. Her thigh still tingled with warmth from his grip; she quickly smoothed her skirt down, tucked the license into her bag, and only left the room once everything looked undisturbed. Bradly was still out in the back garden, deep in conversation. Stella kept her face neutral, strolling over to stand at his side. A few relatives were chatting with him. "Hey, word is Milford actually got back a couple days ago, but only tipped us off today." Bradly looked taken aback. "I thought he was flying in today?" "Nope, sounds like he hit up some auction. I only heard bits and pieces, supposedly the other night at the Empire Auction House." "He must not have gone. I was there that evening too, and I didn't see him anywhere," Bradly said, frowning in confusion. Stella's eyelashes flickered subtly, but she played it cool. Out of nowhere, her mind jumped back to that enigmatic bidder in suite 217. She wondered, 'Could Milford be the mystery guest who got the bracelet for me?' She shoved the thought down as soon as it surfaced. They'd only crossed paths once, total strangers really, connected by the flimsiest in-law tie. No matter how you sliced it, Milford wouldn't stick his neck out for her. Just like Bradly said, he hadn't caught wind of anything, so it couldn't be Milford. Stella let it go. After some more mingling, the group started to break up. Bradly steered her over to bid farewell to Milford. "Mom, Milford, we're taking off. Let's set up a family dinner soon when things settle." Milford slouched back in his chair with effortless nonchalance and gave a nod. "I'm knee-deep in an acquisition, no hurry on the get-together. But you..." He lifted his head, his expression sharpening. "Keep your life on the straight and narrow. Don't veer off track." The edge of warning in his voice was crystal clear. Bradly had grown up overshadowed by Milford; he went rigid but brushed it off casually. "Come on, everything's good. My company's running smooth as ever. If you're skeptical, drop by anytime and pore over the financials—knock yourself out." "It's not just about the company," Milford said softly, eyes down as he savored a sip of coffee. Stella couldn't help stealing a glance at him, and in that instant, a ridiculous idea struck her. From what Bradly had mentioned, Milford was abroad most of the time but still had the inside scoop on everything back home. She wondered, 'Does he know about the shady stuff Bradly is up to on the sly?' "Milford, I hear you. I'll make sure to nurture my marriage with Stella, our whole life together." Bradly grinned, threading his fingers through Stella's. Milford's gaze lingered on their joined hands for a second before drifting away, sealed with a subtle nod. Stella had no desire for any more close contact with Bradly, so she subtly shook his hand free without thinking. A split second later, his disbelieving stare locked onto her face, and he tried to grab her again. She'd known her move would humiliate him in the moment, so she didn't bother saying goodbye to Milford. She just turned and walked out ahead. Once they slid into the car, Bradly shed his polite, deferential mask from earlier, reverting to his entitled rich-kid swagger. He tugged his tie loose, a flicker of annoyance pinching his brows. "Always playing the big-brother card to chew me out, same crap since we were little. "So what if he's crushing it overseas? I'm holding my own just fine back home. Who in Ostralver would even think about messing with me?" Bradly fished out a menthol cigarette on autopilot, ready to light up, but he caught himself after glancing at Stella and shoved it back. He said, "All these years, folks have been whispering, or saying it straight to my face, that my company's thriving because of his pull. Like he's behind every damn thing. "And you? You flat-out refused to let me hold your hand back there. Trying to make me look like an idiot in front of him?" His expression iced over, the edge in his voice impossible to miss. Stella's frown deepened as she took it in. Even without knowing Milford all that well, she understood that Bradly's cocky antics in Ostralver, brushing people off like they were nothing, had always been propped up by Milford's clout. She'd assumed the brothers were tight, but clearly Bradly's respect was just for show; underneath, his grudge against Milford simmered deep. She could overlook a lot, but with things the way they were now, there was zero point in him putting on that phony hand-holding act. Stella gripped her bag, the one with the marriage license inside, and couldn't bite her tongue. "We haven't held hands in forever. It feels off to me." The car went dead quiet. She was right. Their physical closeness had dwindled so much that even she couldn't pinpoint the last time. Bradly's brow creased, and he snapped the cigarette filter clean off between his fingers. "What was that?" Stella met his eyes steadily. "From here on out, let's skip the pointless touchy-feely stuff. It just doesn't sit right." She hadn't even finished when the brakes screeched harshly. The car lurched to a halt on the empty shoulder of the road. Stella almost smacked into the window from the force, her pulse hammering as she barked, "Are you out of your mind?" Bradly loomed over her, fingers digging into her chin, irritation boiling in his glare. "Stella, do you have any idea what you're saying?" The pinch stung like crazy, and the absurdity of it all hit her as she wrestled to shove him off. "Is it not true? When's the last time we even held hands. Can you remember?" Bradly's gaze turned stormy, like she'd struck a raw spot. "I bet you're hung up on Milford, just like that girl from the second branch. That's why you pulled away in front of him. You're trying to cut ties with me?" "Bradly! What the hell are you babbling about?" Anger surged through her as she pushed harder. "Don't you dare pin your gross history on me!" The way the family had orbited Milford like he was the sun had obviously gotten under his skin. The more she resisted, the darker his look grew. Abruptly, he leaned in and smashed his mouth against hers. Stella's eyes flew wide, her head whipping aside to evade as she hammered at his shoulders with everything she had. He'd locked lips with Shanna god knows how often. The thought turned her stomach, so she clamped down and bit him hard. Bradly yelped in pain, jerking back as the fog cleared and he clocked what he'd just done, regret flashing across his face. Blood dotted his lip, but he brushed it off, lunging to wrap her in his arms. "I'm sorry, Stella, baby, I'm so sorry. I screwed up; it was a stupid impulse..." Drained of energy, Stella sagged into the passenger seat, letting him hold her while a barren wave of emptiness and revulsion washed over her. The hug she'd once melted into now repulsed her to her core. "Get off me." Her voice came out rough and scratchy. "Bradly, don't push me to hating you."
Chapter 1 Don't Want Him Anymore "I'm sorry, ma'am." On the other end of the line, the insurance customer service rep said coolly, "After checking our records, the car owner, Mr. Woodard, is indeed married, but the spouse listed here isn't you." Stella Daniels had gotten into a car accident on her way to the Woodard Group headquarters. She couldn't get through to Bradly Woodard on his phone, so she had no choice but to call the insurance company. The car was registered in Bradly's name, but as his wife, she should be able to process the claim too. "When Mr. Woodard picked up the car, he came with his wife and provided the original marriage license. Her last name is Erickson, and her full name is Shanna Erickson," the rep said. It hit Stella like a slap in the face. Dizziness washed over her in waves, leaving her whole body shaking uncontrollably. She and Bradly had been childhood sweethearts. Their families were old friends, and everyone in Ostralver's high society knew how clingy he was with her. Bradly couldn't stand being apart from her even for a single day. Three years ago, when Stella headed abroad for her studies, Bradly had the plane stopped just for her. During her three years in Ensland, he expanded his business overseas to make it easier to look after her. Sixteen thousand miles apart, he'd still fly across the ocean every week to see her. The year she came down with a severe lung illness and nearly didn't pull through, she spent a week in intensive care. Bradly ignored the infection risks and stayed right by her side, sliding a ring onto her finger. He said, "If anything happens to you, I'll go with you. We'll be husband and wife in the next life too." For Bradly's sake, she turned down her mentor's offer to stay on in the lab and headed back home. Brimming with excitement, she went to find him, planning to surprise him. But when she pushed open the door to the CEO's office, she saw a slender, pretty woman straddling his lap. The woman's innocent face tilted upward, her voice whiny and aggrieved. "Mr. Woodard, what happens to me now that Stella is back?" Bradly sat in his executive chair, his tall frame looming over her. A flash of ruthlessness crossed his stern features. "You? You're just her stand-in. Don't forget your place." He lifted his hand, pinching her delicate chin with a sneer. "Barely a three-out-of-ten resemblance, and you think you can compare to her?" Stella was still clutching the gift she'd prepared for him. With a loud "bang," it dropped to the floor, finally breaking the scene in the office. Bradly's face drained of color as he shoved the woman off and jumped to his feet. That woman was Shanna. After Stella caught them in the act, Bradly fired Shanna on the spot and pulled out all the stops to win her back. Bradly, the arrogant prince of Ostralver's elite circles, humbled himself to the dust before her, begging her to give him another chance. Any project she set her sights on, he'd drop without a second thought. He stood in the pouring rain outside her building for over a week, just for a glimpse of her. He said, "Stella, I'm not asking you to forgive me. At least let me explain. "I only ever saw Shanna as your replacement. You've been gone abroad for so long; I missed you terribly. I swear, I just kept her around. Nothing more ever happened between us. "That time you walked in, I'd had too much to drink, and she deliberately tempted me. I lost control for a moment... "I've already let her go, and she won't show up in our lives again. Stella, please, come back to me." Back then, Stella couldn't stand even the slightest betrayal. She insisted on breaking off the engagement. Until that one incident. She was kidnapped by a business rival. The kidnappers reneged on the deal, tied her up in an abandoned factory, and set the place ablaze. Bradly charged into the flames without a second thought to rescue her, shielding her from a collapsing steel beam. He ended up gravely injured, confined to bed for nearly six months. By risking his life, Bradly finally melted her resolve. Once he was out of the hospital, she accepted his proposal, and they threw a lavish wedding. In the two years since they tied the knot, he'd treated her just as devotedly as ever, with zero scandals. He even imposed a strict curfew on himself, heading home right on time every day. Even on out-of-town business trips, he'd video call her constantly. His partners would tease him about being henpecked. He never denied it. Instead, he'd grin proudly and say, "A real man takes care of his family." Memories rushed through Stella's mind like a whirlwind, every past moment flashing by in a blur. Her legs buckled, and she dropped to her knees, burying her face in her hands. She couldn't figure out which Bradly was the real one anymore. A bitter, mocking gleam sparked in her eyes. She thought, 'How absurd.' She'd been his wife for two years, and only now was she learning that even their marriage license had been a sham. Stella scrubbed her face hard, her bangs already soaked with cold sweat. She ignored the other driver's furious yelling and calmly dialed the police. They showed up fast. After finishing her statement, Stella left the station under a sky that had gone completely dark. Her phone lit up with several missed calls from Bradly. When she hadn't answered, he'd sent texts instead. Bradly: [Babe, I was tied up in a key meeting this afternoon. Signal jammers were on, so I missed your call. You okay?] Bradly: [I've got a client dinner tonight, so I'll be late getting home. I double-checked: no women involved, so no need to worry.] Bradly: [Head to bed early. Don't wait up. Love you.] Stella stared at the screen, a sharp wave of irony twisting in her gut. Bradly didn't stagger in until the wee hours. He reeked of alcohol, which almost, but not quite, masked the subtle whiff of perfume on him. "Honey..." He could barely keep his balance, stumbling over to wrap his arms around her through the blanket. "I missed you so damn much..." Stella didn't say a word. Only once he was dead to the world did she sit up quietly and unlock his phone with his fingerprint. The thing was squeaky clean, no suspicious traces at all. His contacts were mostly buddies and business folks, with hers pinned at the top as "Darling Wife." Flawlessly tidy, just like their sham of a marriage. Stella hooked the phone up to her computer, and it didn't take long to uncover his second WhatsApp account. She signed in, and right away, messages popped up from a profile with a cute pink kitten avatar, labeled "Baby." Shanna: [Bradly, thanks for tonight. Without you, I wouldn't have known what to do.] Shanna: [I've always thought meeting you was the luckiest thing that's ever happened to me. I won't intrude on your life. As long as you swing by to see me once in a while, that's enough to make me happy.] Stella scrolled back through the history. She'd suspected as much, but seeing it all laid out still hit her like a punch to the chest, leaving her breathless. They chatted nearly every day. Shanna never missed a good morning message, and Bradly's replies had shifted over time, from total silence at first, to sporadic responses, and now to answering every single one. A chill spread through her. Stella clutched the phone tighter, knowing she should quit while she was ahead but unable to stop herself from digging deeper. Shanna: [Bradly, sorry, I had a few drinks and lost it for a bit. Doc says I'm okay now, so don't stress.] Shanna: [Mrs. Woodard's birthday bash is important. Go enjoy it with her. I'll be fine.] Stella squeezed her eyes shut as the memory came rushing back. Her birthday. Bradly had spent over a month planning it down to the last detail, but that day, he was totally distracted. Hell, he almost cut his own hand while slicing the cake. When she'd asked what was up, he'd brushed it off as work drama, told her not to worry, then pulled her into a soft embrace and encouraged her to blow out the candles and make a wish. It all made sense now, as she stared at this chat log. That same day, Shanna had tried to kill herself by slashing her wrists and ended up in the ER. A sour bitterness flooded her chest like a rising tide. In those brief seconds when she'd closed her eyes to wish, she wondered, 'Was he agonizing over Shanna in the hospital, or picturing endless years together with her?' Stella knew she didn't need an answer to that anymore. She gently placed the phone back and looked down at Bradly, fast asleep beside her. She'd known him since she was four, and for the twenty years that followed, she'd truly believed his love was hers alone, irreplaceable. But now she saw it for what it was: just cheap free samples at a store, handed out to anyone who walked by. If that was all it amounted to, she was done with it. Chapter 2 Bid Against Her The next day, Stella woke to find Bradly busy in the kitchen, his broad shoulders narrowing to a slim waist, his tall, lean build moving with purpose. The sight hit her hard, a dull ache tightening in her chest. Bradly had learned to cook entirely for her sake. She still remembered that turbulent period when the Woodard Group was in crisis. His rivals had targeted her, paying off a servant to poison her food. She'd been unconscious for three full days. When she finally woke, Bradly was there, his eyes red-rimmed and veined with exhaustion, gripping her hand like a lifeline. The instant she stirred, the imposing Bradly crumbled forward, enveloping her in a hug as scalding tears fell onto her skin. From then on, Bradly threw himself into cooking lessons, taking charge of all her meals. In less than a month, he'd gone from a spoiled elite who couldn't distinguish spices to turning out dishes worthy of a Michelin chef. Just then, his phone rang. Stella glanced at it but made no move to answer. Bradly darted out of the kitchen, apron still on, grabbing the phone with a barely concealed flash of anxiety. Stella pretended not to notice and went to wash up. When she came back, the table was set with breakfast, and he was slipping into his suit jacket from the coat rack. Seeing her, he said gently, "There's an emergency at work. I have to run. Sorry I can't join you for breakfast." Stella murmured, "Sure, work comes first." He was clearly in a hurry, because he didn't pick up on the new edge of cool distance in her tone and rushed out. She stared blankly after him until he was gone, then dumped the entire spread into the trash. Then she picked up her phone and dialed a number. "That offer you made before? I'm on board." The person on the other end erupted in delight, chattering away before shifting to broken Andosa Language. "Stella, why the sudden change of heart? I've bugged you about this so many times, and you always said you were married now and focusing on family." A mocking glint flickered in Stella's eyes. She thought, 'Married? This so-called marriage has been dead on arrival.' The caller was her former mentor from her overseas studies. He'd reached out lately, hoping she'd join his new team and spearhead a major project. At the time, she'd kept saying no out of loyalty to Bradly. Now, she only wished she'd seen through the absurd joke of their marriage earlier. After the call, she contacted immigration to schedule a passport renewal. It would take about a week. But before heading out, she had one loose end to tie up. That evening, Stella showed up at a private auction at the Cloud Hotel. She was after one of her mother's keepsakes. Her mom had died when she was eight, and soon after, the Daniels family had liquidated her wedding gift. Stella had been hunting down the items ever since. Over the years, she'd only reclaimed a few. Tonight's auction featured a bracelet from that collection, one her mother had picked up on a trip to Ijance. It was utterly unique, irreplaceable. Whatever it took, she was getting it back. Stella settled into her seat just as the auction was about to start. She was flipping through the catalog when Bradly's voice floated over. "Didn't I already pick out that royal blue sapphire set for you? Not good enough?" His voice carried that familiar tenderness. Shanna linked her arm with his, pouting playfully. "Your taste sucks! I want to pick my own birthday gift." Stella watched them quietly until Bradly threaded through the guests and their gazes collided by chance. The color drained from his face. On pure reflex, he jerked his arm away from Shanna. "Stella." He strode over quickly. "I tried calling you a few times, but you didn't answer. Were you planning to surprise me?" Even though he tried to play it cool, she could still catch that subtle hint of panic in his expression. Stella didn't bother calling him on it, replying evenly, "My phone was on silent. I didn't hear it." Bradly visibly relaxed, casually taking her hand in his with a look of concern. "Your hands are like ice. Didn't I warn you about the cold snap today? You're always putting style over staying warm. If you catch a chill, you know it'll just kill me." As he talked, he signaled a server for a blanket and draped it snugly around her shoulders. Stella kept a straight face, brushing him off as she looked past him to Shanna, who lingered behind with a scowl. Shanna nibbled her lip, then defiantly dropped into the seat next to Bradly, her gaze simmering with irritation. Bradly leaned closer, dropping his voice to explain, "We just wrapped up a major project at the company, and Shanna pulled her weight big time. Her birthday's around the corner, so I thought I'd treat her to something as a project bonus." He eyed her anxiously. "Stella, you're not mad, right?" Shanna piped up in a soft, vulnerable tone. "Mrs. Woodard, if this upsets you, I'll just go. I don't want to get in the way of you and Mr. Woodard." Stella's mouth quirked into a smile that never touched her eyes. "We're married. A little thing like this? Of course it doesn't bother me." The auction got underway shortly after. Bradly treated Shanna like she was invisible, focusing entirely on Stella. He paged through the catalog, throwing in bids left and right. "Babe, this would look amazing on you." He grinned, tenderly brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his tone warm and intimate. "You'd be gorgeous in it." Stella averted her eyes, but out of the corner of her vision, she saw Shanna discreetly clutching the edge of Bradly's jacket in the dim light. Their gazes locked for a split second in a shared, lingering look. She masked the derision in her own eyes, struck by how absurd it all was. Bradly seemed totally at ease juggling both women, convinced he was keeping things balanced, one with the official status, the other with his undivided public attention. She thought, 'What could be fairer than that?' But Stella had never been interested in that kind of equilibrium. Her world extended far beyond romance. Bradly? He was just a small detour on her path, a misstep she'd own up to. And now, it was time to set things right. "Next up: a string of bracelet. Fine-grained texture, deep aroma that lingers. Starting bid at 170,000 dollars, with increments of at least 20,000 dollars!" The auctioneer's pumped-up voice echoed through the room. Finally, Stella's main target for the evening. Bids flew in fast, the screen flickering with updates as the auctioneer called out, "Number 17 lady at 200,000 dollars! Number 9 gentleman ups it to 260,000 dollars! Going higher?" Once the initial frenzy tapered off, Stella lifted her paddle. "500,000 dollars." She'd doubled the current bid in one go. It was a hefty amount. Sure, the bracelet was top-notch, but it wasn't the auction's highlight. The room went quiet after her call; no one countered. "Fantastic! Number 11 lady at 500,000 dollars! "500,000 dollars once! 500,000 dollars twice!" The auctioneer hoisted his gavel, poised to bring it down. "No more bids? Then 500,000 dollars—" "520,000 dollars," A gentle, hesitant voice interrupted. Shanna shrank against Bradly's side, paddle in hand, murmuring timidly to him, "Is this where I put in the amount?" Chapter 3 You're Dirty Stella frowned and raised her bid. "540,000 dollars." But Shanna was right behind her, countering with, "560,000 dollars." How annoyingly precise, each time, she stuck to the bare minimum, slapping on just 20,000 dollars more than Stella's offer. Shanna turned toward her, her voice dripping with plea. "Stella, you've got plenty of jewelry already. Please, let me have this one. I adore it. "I'm not like you, born with money, everything handed to you on a silver platter. You snap your fingers and get whatever you want. If it goes any higher, I really won't be able to keep up." Stella didn't bother looking at her, just quirking her lips in a thin smile. "Isn't Mr. Woodard covering the cost for you? What are you stressing about?" Shanna's face went a shade paler, but she answered in that soft, demure tone, "Even so, Mr. Woodard earns his money the hard way. If I can save him a bit, I ought to." She was the epitome of considerate and caring. After several more back-and-forth bids, the bracelet's price had soared to 700,000 dollars. Stella let out a chilly scoff and was opening her mouth to up the ante when Bradly beat her to it. He said, "Babe, why don't we just let Shanna take this bracelet?" Stella's fingers curled into a tight fist, her nails biting into her palm. She lifted her gaze, any lingering warmth in her eyes turning to ice. "What did you just say?" Bradly let out a resigned sigh, giving her hand a comforting pat as he murmured gently, "Babe, I already told Shanna she'd get a gift tonight, and she's got her heart set on this one. No need to compete with her. "Plus, I've already snagged you a handful of other pieces. Isn't that plenty?" He said it all lightly, teasingly, as if it were nothing more than a harmless quip. Stella shut her eyes, a nameless sourness creeping along her nerves, coiling around her heart until it felt like she couldn't draw a breath. Given Shanna's modest background, 700,000 dollars was way out of her league. She wouldn't even make the guest list here on her own. The only reason she was in that seat, trading bids blow for blow, was Bradly's backing. His pampering had delivered her straight into Stella's path. Stella whispered, "What if I refuse to back down?" She hoisted her paddle once more, her voice echoing through the room. "1 million dollars." A hush blanketed the hall. The auctioneer clearly picked up on the drama, his delivery faltering. "Number eleven at 1 million dollars. Do I hear higher?" Shanna's eyes welled up, on the verge of tears, as she cast a helpless look at Bradly before tacking on another fifty thousand. "1 million 20 thousand dollars." Stella's features hardened to frost, and she was poised to fire back when the manager bustled over, bending close to murmur, "Mrs. Woodard, apologies. We ran a credit verification on your account, and it's frozen. Got another one we can use?" The words slammed into her like a bolt from the blue, ringing in her ears. She snapped her head toward Bradly, but he'd already looked away. An icy numbness spread through her arms and legs. She though,t 'Of course, it has to be him.' Her primary account was linked with his; besides her, only he could authorize a freeze on her cards. Triumph flickered in Shanna's eyes as she added with a pointed edge, "Well, in that case, Mrs. Woodard, maybe it's time to step aside. You've got so much already. Can't you let me have this one little thing?" Up on stage, the auction rolled on, the display frozen on Shanna's latest bid: 1 million 20 thousand dollars. Shanna could hardly hide her glee, chirping sweetly, "Go on, call it!" But the words had barely left her lips when someone announced he would bid for the lot at any costs right in the second-floor VIP suite. After a momentary silence, the room burst into chaos. "He's declared absolute intent!" Even the auctioneer's expression changed. He'd been in the game for over a decade, but this was his first encounter with such a scenario. He hurriedly called out, "Lot number six goes to the gentleman in box 217, regardless of how high the price goes." Anyone up in those second-floor VIP suites was either swimming in money or held serious sway in Ostralver's upper crust. Stella glanced upward toward the source of the voice, catching only a vague outline behind the draped curtains. Even when she couldn't see his face, the man's crossed-legged posture radiated an unspoken dominance that pressed down on the room. The auctioneer slammed his gavel down with finality, proclaiming, "Congratulations to our esteemed guest in box 217 on winning lot number six! You're now upgraded to black gold status!" Across all of Ostralver's elite scene, fewer than a handful had ever hit black gold level at these events. Stella wondered, 'Just who is this mystery man?' Stella loosened her clenched fist slightly, torn between relief that her mother's heirloom hadn't landed in Shanna's clutches and anxiety over reclaiming it from this unknown figure. No matter what, she'd stop at nothing, pay any price, to bring her mother's possession home. She rose to her feet, intent on marching over to box 217 for a chat, when the attendant who'd just ducked inside reappeared, tray in hand with the bracelet. "What's this? The bidder in 217 having second thoughts?" "Auctions don't do take-backs." "Probably short on funds. I called it. No one's done this here before." As the murmurs swirled, the attendant headed straight for Stella, dipping into a courteous bow with a warm smile. She said, "Mrs. Woodard, the gentleman in box 217 requests that I deliver the bracelet to you as a gift. He wishes for you to follow your true path and for all to unfold as it should." The place erupted in gossip once more, with guests shooting glances her way, some envious, others skeptical, many flat-out stunned. "Isn't that Mrs. Woodard? What's her deal with the upstairs guy?" "Likely just buttering up Mr. Woodard." "Nah, I don't buy it. Out of all the goodies tonight, why zero in on those beads for Mrs. Woodard? Sounds like she's got a real connection there." The buzz filtered through, and Bradly's face turned stone-cold. In a tight, edged voice, he demanded, "Stella, what's the story with you and whoever's in box 217?" Stella held his piercing stare and said flatly, "I have no idea who he is." "!" Bradly jumped up, clamping down on her wrist like a vice. Her soft, fair skin reddened almost instantly under the pressure. Stella winced sharply, jerking her arm back on reflex. "Bradly, have you lost your mind? Haven't you stirred up enough drama for one day?" But he barreled on, blind to her fury, his reddened eyes locked on her as if he could swallow her up. "What's really between you two? "Stella, through all our married years, I've bent over backward for you. Anything you desired, I served it up without question. Why would you betray me like this?" In his mind, it was already a done deal: she was entangled in something shady with the man above. If the guy was angling for a favor from him, Bradly would've recognized him right away. People in Ostralver didn't beat around the bush when they needed something from him. They came direct. The jab landed raw and direct. Bradly blinked, frozen for a beat as a flicker of alarm shot through his eyes. Chapter 4 Don't Know You'd Come Bradly said, "I'm sorry, Stella. I didn't mean it like that. I had no right getting jealous over you and some stranger. It's all on me." Bradly's eyes reddened. "But honestly, there's nothing going on between Shanna and me. I just brought her along as a thank-you. Can you let this slide?" Seeing his cue, Shanna ducked her head meekly, her voice catching. "That's right, Mrs. Woodard. I've been bending over backward to keep my distance from Mr. Woodard so you wouldn't get the wrong impression. "I'm not asking for the world, just a decent birthday gift. I didn't grow up with your advantages; you've had everything handed to you and even snagged a catch like Mr. Woodard. Can't I at least pick out something for myself?" "Just a gift, huh?" Stella closed in on her, one step at a time. "Ms. Erickson, I've never given a damn about this 'gift' you're going on about. What gets under my skin is you, a Woodard Group employee, crossing lines you have no business crossing." As they drew closer, Bradly instinctively stepped in front of Shanna, his voice soft and coaxing. "Stella, if it's bugging you this much, I'll transfer her to a branch office once the auction's over. "But for now, cut me some slack. Let Shanna have the bracelet. When we get home, name your price on anything, and it's yours." Shanna bobbed her head in agreement, tears glistening on her lashes as she pleaded, "Stella, I really adore this bracelet. You've got it all already. Why go after the one thing I want? "Or is this just because you hate my guts and can't resist taking shots at me?" "What makes you think I'd ever like you?" Stella let out a cold snort. "This belonged to me from the start. Why the hell would I give it up?" She took the bracelet from the attendant with casual ease, her smile sharp but empty. "Ms. Erickson, know your place." Her refusal to budge finally wore through Bradly's patience, erasing every bit of softness from his face. "Stella, do you have to humiliate me like this in front of everyone? Where does that leave my dignity? "It's just a crappy old bracelet. Am I really worth less to you than some trinket?" He said it with such conviction, as if he'd wiped from his memory the solemn vow he'd made when proposing: that he'd hunt down every single one of her mother's sold-off keepsakes, no matter what. Stella's hand flew up, delivering a resounding slap across his cheek. The sharp crack rang out, pulling shocked stares from every corner of the room. Bradly's head snapped sideways, his face livid as he fixed her with a glare, his words hissing through clenched teeth. "Stella, drop the drama already. Have I pampered you too much these days, turning you into this unreasonable nightmare?" Stella reined in her temper, keeping her tone even. "Bradly, you better not live to regret today." Without another word, she turned and walked out, not sparing a backward glance. As her figure receded, Shanna gently touched the angry red mark on Bradly's cheek, her voice full of worry. "Mr. Woodard, are you okay? "Stella's got no boundaries. How could she hit you with all these people watching?" Bradly swatted her hand aside, his nails digging into his palm as he stared after her retreating path. "I've spoiled her rotten, letting her forget that everything she has comes from me." Shanna peeked at his changing expression, testing the waters. "Mr. Woodard, about the bracelet..." Bradly rubbed his throbbing cheek, pulled a bank card from his pocket, and handed it over. "1.7 million dollars on there. Buy whatever catches your eye." Box 217, Stella rapped on the door, eager to thank the mystery bidder face-to-face. Silence. She caught a server walking by. "Excuse me, any idea where the gentleman from this box headed?" "He slipped out right after nabbing the last item," the server said. Disappointment flashed in her eyes, but Stella pressed on, "Do you know who he was?" The server gave her a regretful smile. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard, we're not allowed to spill on our VIPs. Don't make this harder for us." Catching herself, Stella moved out of the way. "Thanks all the same." By the time she made it home from the auction, an hour had ticked by. Stella went straight up to the study, fired up the computer, and dove into the assets registered under her and Bradly's names. After tallying up the numbers, she snatched her phone, found lawyer Rubin Cobb's contact, and hit dial. She said, "I've sorted out the asset division documents for me and Bradly and sent them over. I need you to handle the property split by tomorrow." Rubin quickly received the files and nodded respectfully. "Of course, Mrs. Woodard. I'll get right on it." Stella stared intently at her computer screen, her grip tightening on the mouse. "If Bradly's committed bigamy, how should our assets be divided?" "Generally, any property the bigamous party gained through the bigamy can be claimed back by the other spouse," Rubin replied matter-of-factly. Half of Bradly's current wealth had come from Stella's investments to support his career early on. Her expression darkened, and she promptly forwarded the marriage license between him and Shanna. "Rubin, please use every legal avenue to recover my half of the assets." After hanging up, Stella slumped back in her chair, utterly drained physically and emotionally. She closed her eyes slowly, but sleep was nowhere in sight. Bradly would never agree to a divorce. Until she had everything locked down, she couldn't let on that anything was amiss. Just then, the study door was kicked open from the outside. Bradly flung his jacket onto the desk and yanked Stella up from her seat in front of the computer. "Do you realize that because of your little outburst, I've become a laughingstock in our circles? "What exactly do you want? Are you still obsessing over what happened back then?" Stella opened her eyes slowly, her gaze settling calmly on Bradly, but she remained silent. A fire raged in Bradly's chest, intensifying by the second, and he couldn't hold back his fury any longer. "Since we got married, have I ever done anything to wrong you? I come home right on time every night after work, I always fill you in on any business dinners, and if there's even a hint of a woman involved, I skip them entirely! I've bent over backward, and it's still not good enough for you?" He remembered every detail crystal clear. In his mind, these were the sacrifices he'd made to marry her. Stella suddenly found the whole thing absurd. She couldn't bear to look at him anymore, so she stood up and walked straight out of the study without a backward glance. Behind her, Bradly's voice echoed heavily. "Stella, no matter what you think, my conscience is clear." It felt like Stella's heart had been shattered into icy fragments, a sharp, bitter pain surging through her. Her mind buzzed, and for a moment, all she could hear was that phrase repeating over and over. She thought, 'My conscience is clear? So, in his eyes, everything he's done is perfectly justifiable.' The next morning, when Stella woke up, Bradly was already gone. On the table sat the breakfast he'd prepared, tailored exactly to her tastes. Stella pressed her lips together, her feelings a complicated tangle. They'd ended things on a sour note last night, yet Bradly had still made her breakfast this morning. But this was the same man who'd lied to her for years. No matter what, it was time to end things with Bradly. She didn't touch the food and headed straight to the office. These past few years, she'd stayed out of Bradly's business dealings. A lot of her old financial records were outdated now, and she needed the latest reports. The secretary looked startled when she saw her, then managed to say, "Mrs. Woodard, are you here to see Mr. Woodard?" "No." Stella replied evenly. "Send the finance manager in to see me." Her shares were second only to Bradly's, giving her full access to every aspect of the company. The secretary hesitated briefly before nodding. Stella noticed her immediately turning to make a phone call, probably alerting Bradly. Stella didn't intervene; let her. She settled into the finance office, sipping her coffee absentmindedly while flipping through magazines on the shelf. Most were glossy entertainment rags, mixed in with novels and comics. Stella frowned, only now picking up on the details: the desk was covered in a pink plaid mat, cluttered with adorable plush toys. The standout pair was a set of couple dolls, their outfits emblazoned with the letters W and E. It hit Stella suddenly what that meant, and just then, the door behind her swung open. Shanna rushed in. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard." She was clutching a cup of coffee as she apologized. "I had no idea you'd drop by like this..." Chapter 5 All For Milford Stella arched an eyebrow as she looked her over. "So you're the finance manager?" Shanna nodded with a quick smile. "That's me. If you need anything at all, just say the word. Bradly, well, Mr. Woodard is tied up in a meeting right now. But don't worry, I'll make sure to relay whatever message you have." Stella let out a soft laugh. "No need for that." She regarded Shanna with clear curiosity. "I'm not looking for Bradly. I'm here to see you." Shanna's smile faltered for a moment before she recovered, her tone turning gentle. "Mrs. Woodard, I get that you're still bothered by what went down at the auction last night, but there's no reason to be so worked up about my connection to Mr. Woodard. After all..." She raised her hand, the elegant diamond ring on her finger glinting under the light, perfectly complementing her bashful grin. "I'm already married, and things are great between me and my husband." Stella's eyes locked on the ring, her breath hitching just for an instant. It was ridiculous. In this whole messed-up situation, she was the one playing the role of the mistress. The ring was an exact match for the one Bradly had given her during his proposal. But within seconds, Stella averted her gaze. "It's a lovely ring, but you're mistaken." She spoke unhurriedly, "I'm just here to grab the latest financial report from you. That's all." Stella caught the sour shift in Shanna's expression and smiled to herself. "Seems like you're the one on edge here, Ms. Erickson." Shanna's face transformed completely, that smug spark in her eyes snuffed out. She bit her lip, unable to find words for a long beat. Stella watched her with unruffled poise. "Do I need to repeat my request, Ms. Erickson?" The words had barely left her mouth when Bradly burst in, his expression clouding over at the sight. "Stella, wasn't the scene from last night enough?" His voice was laced with ice. "How long are you planning to drag this out? I've told you already. There's nothing going on between me and Shanna. If you don't believe me..." Stella interrupted him mid-sentence, "Oh, I believe you. Absolutely." A faint smirk tugged at her lips, though her eyes remained frosty as they settled on Shanna. "After all, Ms. Erickson's already married. She just mentioned it herself." The statement landed like a bomb. Shanna's face drained of color, and Bradly's followed suit. He shot her a withering glare. Tears sprang to Shanna's eyes in an instant. Stella had no interest in watching the drama unfold any further. She said evenly, "I'm here for this year's financials. I hold forty percent of the company. Surely I can access that, right?" Bradly seemed to snap back to reality, nodding hastily. "Of course you can." He barked orders at the secretary to fetch it immediately, all the while stealing wary glances at her face. Once he confirmed she wasn't giving anything away, he exhaled almost imperceptibly in relief. He said, "Stella, what's with the sudden interest? You've never bothered with company matters before." Stella answered coolly, "After the account freeze last night, I decided it's smarter to set up a separate one." Bradly's expression froze again. "Stella..." The secretary returned promptly with the report. Stella brushed Bradly aside, skimmed through it quickly, and was heading for the door when he caught her by the wrist. He said, "Stella, about the family dinner tonight, are you coming home with me?" His tone was pleading, like he needed her answer to reassure himself that she hadn't caught on to anything fishy. Stella didn't look back, just replying calmly, "Sure." Bradly's face lit up. "Great, I'll swing by after work to pick you up." Stella dropped her gaze, masking the cool detachment in her eyes. She'd only agreed to head back to the family estate for one specific reason. The marriage license from when she and Bradly had tied the knot was a phony, but he'd made a whole production out of stashing it away at the house, claiming it had to be kept secure. Nothing could serve as stronger proof. Once she got her hands on it, his bigamy would be ironclad. Stella didn't bother waiting for Bradly; she hailed a cab and got there ahead of time. She'd figured it was just a standard family gathering, but she was caught off guard by the full turnout. Bradly's parents, fresh from their overseas vacation last week, were back, and even the distant relatives from the Woodard family's side branches had shown up en masse. "Stella, dear." As she walked in, Nadine Woodard peered over her shoulder. "Bradly didn't come with you?" Stella answered evenly, "He'll be along shortly." Nadine clicked her tongue, her irritation obvious. "On an important occasion like this, letting someone from outside the family arrive solo, what's got into him?" Stella's brow furrowed just a touch. She and Bradly had been engaged since childhood, but after her mother's passing, the Daniels family's status had tanked while the Woodard family kept climbing. That was when Nadine started pushing to scrap the arrangement, and she'd mentioned it more than a few times. But Chuck Woodard was upright and principled, flat-out refusing to play the social-climbing game. With Bradly dead set on marrying her and no one else, Nadine had reluctantly given in, though she made her resentment clear. Even after the marriage, she never passed up an opportunity to give Stella the cold shoulder. She was about to add something else when the butler rushed in and murmured, "He's here." Nadine promptly dropped the subject with Stella and jumped to her feet, the extended family hustling out right behind her to welcome the arrivals. The level of pomp surprised Stella. The Woodard family was already at the top of Ostralver's social elite. For them to pull out all the stops like this... Standing at the edge of the group, Stella glanced up and saw a black Maybach rolling up to the front of the estate. Someone hurried forward to open the door respectfully, and a tall, imposing figure stepped out unhurriedly. The man wore a sleek black suit, his chiseled features sharp, eyes as midnight, radiating a fierce intensity. Every gesture exuded a natural poise and authority that made it tough to hold his stare. The crowd swarmed forward in a rush, but he stayed cool and detached the whole time, his stunningly handsome face as impassive as carved ice, showing zero emotion. Then, as if picking up on something, he looked up toward Stella. Their eyes locked unexpectedly, sending her heart pounding. It was Milford Woodard, Bradly's brother. He'd returned to the country. Though they were brothers in name, Milford wasn't all that tight with the family. He'd headed overseas young and had spent years growing the business abroad. His father Edward Woodard was a total lightweight, good only at spending cash, not earning it. His grandpa Chuck had the smarts and drive, but age was catching up, leaving him unable to manage it all. Real power over the Woodard family had shifted to Milford ages ago. Stella let out a quiet breath. She thought, 'That explains the big crowd today. They've all turned out for Milford.' Chapter 6 Need Help? Stella lingered in the corner of the living room, watching the relatives descend like a swarm of locusts, all scrambling to surround Milford. Bradly stood next to Nadine, flashing a polished smile as he greeted, "Hey, Milford." The uncles who'd been buttering up Bradly just a minute ago quickly switched gears, beaming with over-the-top enthusiasm as they stepped up to say hello. "Milford, what prompted the sudden return?" "Milford, I hear you're in the middle of acquiring a domestic company? You're just getting more impressive by the day." "Come on inside, take a seat. We've got some top-shelf coffee." Bradly caught the stark contrast in the uncles' warmth, his smile fading briefly before he pulled it together and led the way forward. Stella quietly eyed the tall, strikingly handsome Milford striding into the living room like the star of the show, instinctively edging back a step. Now fully pushed to the fringes of the crowd, she shifted aside to let the trailing group pass, doing everything she could to blend into the wallpaper. Milford approached steadily. Unlike Bradly's flashy, outgoing vibe, he had a more brooding, aloof kind of handsomeness, like a pine tree blanketed in snow, regal and intimidating. He acknowledged the flattery around him with simple nods, his eyes scanning the room casually, subtly taking stock of everyone there. Until his gaze swept over Stella again, and he came to an abrupt halt. He paused, causing Bradly to stop too. "Something wrong, Milford?" Milford didn't respond, his steady gaze fixed on Stella. It was only a look, but it jolted her to her core. She felt an odd sense of being claimed, uninvited. Yet she'd barely crossed paths with Milford before. Bradly and the others traced his stare, his eyebrow quirking up. "Stella, come say hi to Big Milford." Stella started to step forward, but Milford beat her to it, walking straight toward her. Bradly and the rest exchanged surprised glances. So far, everyone had been approaching Milford. He hadn't initiated with a soul. Milford's deep eyes gave nothing away. "Stella?" Her breath hitched, like a faint breeze had brushed her ear. She hadn't anticipated him coming over to chat. It had been years, and they'd only met once or twice, but he still remembered her. Stella nodded. "Milford, it's been ages—" Before she could finish, Milford held out his hand. The move was so casual, so natural. Out of pure reflex and politeness, Stella extended hers, their palms connecting. In that brief clasp, she felt him squeeze gently, his thumb settling on her fingers and grazing them with a warm intensity. Milford released after just a second. Suddenly, Bradly sidled up, drawing Stella into his side with an arm around her waist, lacing his fingers through her left hand. He said, "Milford, how long are you in town this time? Stella and I can take you out to dinner one of these days." Milford took in their cozy pose, his glance dropping to their intertwined hands. "About a month." The words had barely left his mouth when Chuck came down the stairs, leaning on the butler for support. Milford headed over to talk with him. Not long after, the kitchen called that the party was ready. Stella trailed Bradly to their seats on the left side of the main table. Everyone filed in and sat. As the eldest branch, the two Woodard brothers took priority. Chuck claimed the head of the main table, with Nadine and Milford next in line. Stella and Bradly fell further down the order, landing her right across from Milford on the diagonal. The family feast got underway, with everyone firing questions at Milford about what he'd been up to lately. Stella kept her head down, nibbling at her food while catching bits of the conversation. Zrester bigwig, major stakeholder in Wonder Group, founder of that financial exchange and the smart transportation AI... Milford's credentials were endless and mind-blowing. She thought back to that Zrester party invite list she'd snagged years ago. Milford was third from the top, while she languished at the bottom. In all these years, she'd had next to no interaction with him. Right after the wedding, this mysterious Milford had only shown up once. He dropped off a gift and vanished. In just a handful of years, Milford had climbed to the pinnacle of Zrester's power players. His talent was obvious. Before long, the family party wound down, and folks scattered to grab desserts. Still hung up on that marriage license, Stella excused herself to head upstairs for a coat change. Bradly was itching to chat with Milford, his gaze fixed that way as he muttered distractedly, "Yeah, go on up." Stella wasted no time hustling upstairs. With the crowd milling about downstairs, she slipped to the third floor of the villa and nudged open Bradly's bedroom door. There it was: the glaring marriage license perched right on top of the nightstand, framed, flanked by their wedding portrait. As she stepped closer, memories of Bradly's cozy moments with Shanna flooded her brain, her nails digging slowly into her palm. That license seared her eyes, like it was sneering at her gullibility. She never should've caved, never should've handed Bradly a second shot. It just went to show that people's hearts circled back for seconds. Disgust flickered in her eyes as she hauled the desk's computer chair over, the kind with wheels and a swivel, shaky at best. She climbed onto it, planting one foot on the bed for stability, teetering just enough to hold steady. Stella hiked up her pearl-white knee-length dress a bit and stretched upward slowly. Fingers extended to the max, but she was still a couple inches shy. She rose onto her tiptoes, straining, but no dice. Frowning from her perch, she scanned around and snagged a book from beside the cabinet. As she leaned down, footsteps suddenly echoed outside the door. Fast, but measured. A man's, for sure. Her pulse spiked. She clutched the table, scrambling to hop down, but, perfect timing, her other sleeve caught on the cabinet's edge. She tugged frantically to break free, but it was too late to descend. The door flew open out of nowhere. Stella went rigid, her knees giving way as she toppled backward off the chair. A quick yelp escaped her, but the expected crash never hit. A firm hand latched precisely onto her thigh, another banding around her waist, hauling her into a solid hold and planting her feet firmly on the floor. She slammed into a warm, toned chest, a crisp, grounding sandalwood aroma enveloping her, not Bradly's scent. Stella glanced up, nearly clipping the guy's chin. Milford let go right away, backing off a step to give her space. Her cheeks burned, the thigh he'd gripped feeling like it was on fire. Mortified and frozen, she stammered, "Th-thanks." Milford stayed composed, his eyes skimming her flushed face and the pinkened patch of skin on her thigh from his hold. His Adam's apple dipped subtly. "Didn't realize you were in here. My bad." Stella shook her head, even more flustered. She was the one imposing on him. Milford flicked a glance upward. "Need some help?" She looked too. Up top, the marriage license screamed for attention. Chapter 7 Don't Let Me Hate You Stella just came out with it. "I want to get the marriage license down." Milford hesitated for a beat, without probing why she needed it, and slid the chair out of the way. Tall and long-limbed, he barely had to tip up on his toes to snag it effortlessly. Milford skimmed the lettering on the license, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes before the faintest quirk tugged at his lips, almost undetectable. He passed it over to Stella. "Ah, I see." She missed the words, taking it with a soft murmur: "Thanks, Milford." Her palms were slick with sweat now, but holding the certificate still sent an icy shiver through her. Those bold letters were a brutal reminder. This whole marriage had been one big joke. From beginning to end, Bradly's grand performance of undying love had always had a third wheel in the shadows. Milford dropped his gaze. Towering over her, all he could make out was the neat swirl at the top of her head, round and oddly appealing. Those slim, pale hands gripped the certificate like a vise, completely bloodless. Milford asked offhandedly, "So, what's the marriage license for?" "Oh, I just want to bring it home and store it there," Stella shot back, pulling an excuse out of thin air. Milford's stare felt like it enveloped her, the heat of it almost scorching, though he kept his hands to himself. Then he casually adjusted his cufflinks and turned to go. Stella let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, sagging against the cool cabinet. Her thigh still tingled with warmth from his grip; she quickly smoothed her skirt down, tucked the license into her bag, and only left the room once everything looked undisturbed. Bradly was still out in the back garden, deep in conversation. Stella kept her face neutral, strolling over to stand at his side. A few relatives were chatting with him. "Hey, word is Milford actually got back a couple days ago, but only tipped us off today." Bradly looked taken aback. "I thought he was flying in today?" "Nope, sounds like he hit up some auction. I only heard bits and pieces, supposedly the other night at the Empire Auction House." "He must not have gone. I was there that evening too, and I didn't see him anywhere," Bradly said, frowning in confusion. Stella's eyelashes flickered subtly, but she played it cool. Out of nowhere, her mind jumped back to that enigmatic bidder in suite 217. She wondered, 'Could Milford be the mystery guest who got the bracelet for me?' She shoved the thought down as soon as it surfaced. They'd only crossed paths once, total strangers really, connected by the flimsiest in-law tie. No matter how you sliced it, Milford wouldn't stick his neck out for her. Just like Bradly said, he hadn't caught wind of anything, so it couldn't be Milford. Stella let it go. After some more mingling, the group started to break up. Bradly steered her over to bid farewell to Milford. "Mom, Milford, we're taking off. Let's set up a family dinner soon when things settle." Milford slouched back in his chair with effortless nonchalance and gave a nod. "I'm knee-deep in an acquisition, no hurry on the get-together. But you..." He lifted his head, his expression sharpening. "Keep your life on the straight and narrow. Don't veer off track." The edge of warning in his voice was crystal clear. Bradly had grown up overshadowed by Milford; he went rigid but brushed it off casually. "Come on, everything's good. My company's running smooth as ever. If you're skeptical, drop by anytime and pore over the financials—knock yourself out." "It's not just about the company," Milford said softly, eyes down as he savored a sip of coffee. Stella couldn't help stealing a glance at him, and in that instant, a ridiculous idea struck her. From what Bradly had mentioned, Milford was abroad most of the time but still had the inside scoop on everything back home. She wondered, 'Does he know about the shady stuff Bradly is up to on the sly?' "Milford, I hear you. I'll make sure to nurture my marriage with Stella, our whole life together." Bradly grinned, threading his fingers through Stella's. Milford's gaze lingered on their joined hands for a second before drifting away, sealed with a subtle nod. Stella had no desire for any more close contact with Bradly, so she subtly shook his hand free without thinking. A split second later, his disbelieving stare locked onto her face, and he tried to grab her again. She'd known her move would humiliate him in the moment, so she didn't bother saying goodbye to Milford. She just turned and walked out ahead. Once they slid into the car, Bradly shed his polite, deferential mask from earlier, reverting to his entitled rich-kid swagger. He tugged his tie loose, a flicker of annoyance pinching his brows. "Always playing the big-brother card to chew me out, same crap since we were little. "So what if he's crushing it overseas? I'm holding my own just fine back home. Who in Ostralver would even think about messing with me?" Bradly fished out a menthol cigarette on autopilot, ready to light up, but he caught himself after glancing at Stella and shoved it back. He said, "All these years, folks have been whispering, or saying it straight to my face, that my company's thriving because of his pull. Like he's behind every damn thing. "And you? You flat-out refused to let me hold your hand back there. Trying to make me look like an idiot in front of him?" His expression iced over, the edge in his voice impossible to miss. Stella's frown deepened as she took it in. Even without knowing Milford all that well, she understood that Bradly's cocky antics in Ostralver, brushing people off like they were nothing, had always been propped up by Milford's clout. She'd assumed the brothers were tight, but clearly Bradly's respect was just for show; underneath, his grudge against Milford simmered deep. She could overlook a lot, but with things the way they were now, there was zero point in him putting on that phony hand-holding act. Stella gripped her bag, the one with the marriage license inside, and couldn't bite her tongue. "We haven't held hands in forever. It feels off to me." The car went dead quiet. She was right. Their physical closeness had dwindled so much that even she couldn't pinpoint the last time. Bradly's brow creased, and he snapped the cigarette filter clean off between his fingers. "What was that?" Stella met his eyes steadily. "From here on out, let's skip the pointless touchy-feely stuff. It just doesn't sit right." She hadn't even finished when the brakes screeched harshly. The car lurched to a halt on the empty shoulder of the road. Stella almost smacked into the window from the force, her pulse hammering as she barked, "Are you out of your mind?" Bradly loomed over her, fingers digging into her chin, irritation boiling in his glare. "Stella, do you have any idea what you're saying?" The pinch stung like crazy, and the absurdity of it all hit her as she wrestled to shove him off. "Is it not true? When's the last time we even held hands. Can you remember?" Bradly's gaze turned stormy, like she'd struck a raw spot. "I bet you're hung up on Milford, just like that girl from the second branch. That's why you pulled away in front of him. You're trying to cut ties with me?" "Bradly! What the hell are you babbling about?" Anger surged through her as she pushed harder. "Don't you dare pin your gross history on me!" The way the family had orbited Milford like he was the sun had obviously gotten under his skin. The more she resisted, the darker his look grew. Abruptly, he leaned in and smashed his mouth against hers. Stella's eyes flew wide, her head whipping aside to evade as she hammered at his shoulders with everything she had. He'd locked lips with Shanna god knows how often. The thought turned her stomach, so she clamped down and bit him hard. Bradly yelped in pain, jerking back as the fog cleared and he clocked what he'd just done, regret flashing across his face. Blood dotted his lip, but he brushed it off, lunging to wrap her in his arms. "I'm sorry, Stella, baby, I'm so sorry. I screwed up; it was a stupid impulse..." Drained of energy, Stella sagged into the passenger seat, letting him hold her while a barren wave of emptiness and revulsion washed over her. The hug she'd once melted into now repulsed her to her core. "Get off me." Her voice came out rough and scratchy. "Bradly, don't push me to hating you."
Chapter 1 Don't Want Him Anymore "I'm sorry, ma'am." On the other end of the line, the insurance customer service rep said coolly, "After checking our records, the car owner, Mr. Woodard, is indeed married, but the spouse listed here isn't you." Stella Daniels had gotten into a car accident on her way to the Woodard Group headquarters. She couldn't get through to Bradly Woodard on his phone, so she had no choice but to call the insurance company. The car was registered in Bradly's name, but as his wife, she should be able to process the claim too. "When Mr. Woodard picked up the car, he came with his wife and provided the original marriage license. Her last name is Erickson, and her full name is Shanna Erickson," the rep said. It hit Stella like a slap in the face. Dizziness washed over her in waves, leaving her whole body shaking uncontrollably. She and Bradly had been childhood sweethearts. Their families were old friends, and everyone in Ostralver's high society knew how clingy he was with her. Bradly couldn't stand being apart from her even for a single day. Three years ago, when Stella headed abroad for her studies, Bradly had the plane stopped just for her. During her three years in Ensland, he expanded his business overseas to make it easier to look after her. Sixteen thousand miles apart, he'd still fly across the ocean every week to see her. The year she came down with a severe lung illness and nearly didn't pull through, she spent a week in intensive care. Bradly ignored the infection risks and stayed right by her side, sliding a ring onto her finger. He said, "If anything happens to you, I'll go with you. We'll be husband and wife in the next life too." For Bradly's sake, she turned down her mentor's offer to stay on in the lab and headed back home. Brimming with excitement, she went to find him, planning to surprise him. But when she pushed open the door to the CEO's office, she saw a slender, pretty woman straddling his lap. The woman's innocent face tilted upward, her voice whiny and aggrieved. "Mr. Woodard, what happens to me now that Stella is back?" Bradly sat in his executive chair, his tall frame looming over her. A flash of ruthlessness crossed his stern features. "You? You're just her stand-in. Don't forget your place." He lifted his hand, pinching her delicate chin with a sneer. "Barely a three-out-of-ten resemblance, and you think you can compare to her?" Stella was still clutching the gift she'd prepared for him. With a loud "bang," it dropped to the floor, finally breaking the scene in the office. Bradly's face drained of color as he shoved the woman off and jumped to his feet. That woman was Shanna. After Stella caught them in the act, Bradly fired Shanna on the spot and pulled out all the stops to win her back. Bradly, the arrogant prince of Ostralver's elite circles, humbled himself to the dust before her, begging her to give him another chance. Any project she set her sights on, he'd drop without a second thought. He stood in the pouring rain outside her building for over a week, just for a glimpse of her. He said, "Stella, I'm not asking you to forgive me. At least let me explain. "I only ever saw Shanna as your replacement. You've been gone abroad for so long; I missed you terribly. I swear, I just kept her around. Nothing more ever happened between us. "That time you walked in, I'd had too much to drink, and she deliberately tempted me. I lost control for a moment... "I've already let her go, and she won't show up in our lives again. Stella, please, come back to me." Back then, Stella couldn't stand even the slightest betrayal. She insisted on breaking off the engagement. Until that one incident. She was kidnapped by a business rival. The kidnappers reneged on the deal, tied her up in an abandoned factory, and set the place ablaze. Bradly charged into the flames without a second thought to rescue her, shielding her from a collapsing steel beam. He ended up gravely injured, confined to bed for nearly six months. By risking his life, Bradly finally melted her resolve. Once he was out of the hospital, she accepted his proposal, and they threw a lavish wedding. In the two years since they tied the knot, he'd treated her just as devotedly as ever, with zero scandals. He even imposed a strict curfew on himself, heading home right on time every day. Even on out-of-town business trips, he'd video call her constantly. His partners would tease him about being henpecked. He never denied it. Instead, he'd grin proudly and say, "A real man takes care of his family." Memories rushed through Stella's mind like a whirlwind, every past moment flashing by in a blur. Her legs buckled, and she dropped to her knees, burying her face in her hands. She couldn't figure out which Bradly was the real one anymore. A bitter, mocking gleam sparked in her eyes. She thought, 'How absurd.' She'd been his wife for two years, and only now was she learning that even their marriage license had been a sham. Stella scrubbed her face hard, her bangs already soaked with cold sweat. She ignored the other driver's furious yelling and calmly dialed the police. They showed up fast. After finishing her statement, Stella left the station under a sky that had gone completely dark. Her phone lit up with several missed calls from Bradly. When she hadn't answered, he'd sent texts instead. Bradly: [Babe, I was tied up in a key meeting this afternoon. Signal jammers were on, so I missed your call. You okay?] Bradly: [I've got a client dinner tonight, so I'll be late getting home. I double-checked: no women involved, so no need to worry.] Bradly: [Head to bed early. Don't wait up. Love you.] Stella stared at the screen, a sharp wave of irony twisting in her gut. Bradly didn't stagger in until the wee hours. He reeked of alcohol, which almost, but not quite, masked the subtle whiff of perfume on him. "Honey..." He could barely keep his balance, stumbling over to wrap his arms around her through the blanket. "I missed you so damn much..." Stella didn't say a word. Only once he was dead to the world did she sit up quietly and unlock his phone with his fingerprint. The thing was squeaky clean, no suspicious traces at all. His contacts were mostly buddies and business folks, with hers pinned at the top as "Darling Wife." Flawlessly tidy, just like their sham of a marriage. Stella hooked the phone up to her computer, and it didn't take long to uncover his second WhatsApp account. She signed in, and right away, messages popped up from a profile with a cute pink kitten avatar, labeled "Baby." Shanna: [Bradly, thanks for tonight. Without you, I wouldn't have known what to do.] Shanna: [I've always thought meeting you was the luckiest thing that's ever happened to me. I won't intrude on your life. As long as you swing by to see me once in a while, that's enough to make me happy.] Stella scrolled back through the history. She'd suspected as much, but seeing it all laid out still hit her like a punch to the chest, leaving her breathless. They chatted nearly every day. Shanna never missed a good morning message, and Bradly's replies had shifted over time, from total silence at first, to sporadic responses, and now to answering every single one. A chill spread through her. Stella clutched the phone tighter, knowing she should quit while she was ahead but unable to stop herself from digging deeper. Shanna: [Bradly, sorry, I had a few drinks and lost it for a bit. Doc says I'm okay now, so don't stress.] Shanna: [Mrs. Woodard's birthday bash is important. Go enjoy it with her. I'll be fine.] Stella squeezed her eyes shut as the memory came rushing back. Her birthday. Bradly had spent over a month planning it down to the last detail, but that day, he was totally distracted. Hell, he almost cut his own hand while slicing the cake. When she'd asked what was up, he'd brushed it off as work drama, told her not to worry, then pulled her into a soft embrace and encouraged her to blow out the candles and make a wish. It all made sense now, as she stared at this chat log. That same day, Shanna had tried to kill herself by slashing her wrists and ended up in the ER. A sour bitterness flooded her chest like a rising tide. In those brief seconds when she'd closed her eyes to wish, she wondered, 'Was he agonizing over Shanna in the hospital, or picturing endless years together with her?' Stella knew she didn't need an answer to that anymore. She gently placed the phone back and looked down at Bradly, fast asleep beside her. She'd known him since she was four, and for the twenty years that followed, she'd truly believed his love was hers alone, irreplaceable. But now she saw it for what it was: just cheap free samples at a store, handed out to anyone who walked by. If that was all it amounted to, she was done with it. Chapter 2 Bid Against Her The next day, Stella woke to find Bradly busy in the kitchen, his broad shoulders narrowing to a slim waist, his tall, lean build moving with purpose. The sight hit her hard, a dull ache tightening in her chest. Bradly had learned to cook entirely for her sake. She still remembered that turbulent period when the Woodard Group was in crisis. His rivals had targeted her, paying off a servant to poison her food. She'd been unconscious for three full days. When she finally woke, Bradly was there, his eyes red-rimmed and veined with exhaustion, gripping her hand like a lifeline. The instant she stirred, the imposing Bradly crumbled forward, enveloping her in a hug as scalding tears fell onto her skin. From then on, Bradly threw himself into cooking lessons, taking charge of all her meals. In less than a month, he'd gone from a spoiled elite who couldn't distinguish spices to turning out dishes worthy of a Michelin chef. Just then, his phone rang. Stella glanced at it but made no move to answer. Bradly darted out of the kitchen, apron still on, grabbing the phone with a barely concealed flash of anxiety. Stella pretended not to notice and went to wash up. When she came back, the table was set with breakfast, and he was slipping into his suit jacket from the coat rack. Seeing her, he said gently, "There's an emergency at work. I have to run. Sorry I can't join you for breakfast." Stella murmured, "Sure, work comes first." He was clearly in a hurry, because he didn't pick up on the new edge of cool distance in her tone and rushed out. She stared blankly after him until he was gone, then dumped the entire spread into the trash. Then she picked up her phone and dialed a number. "That offer you made before? I'm on board." The person on the other end erupted in delight, chattering away before shifting to broken Andosa Language. "Stella, why the sudden change of heart? I've bugged you about this so many times, and you always said you were married now and focusing on family." A mocking glint flickered in Stella's eyes. She thought, 'Married? This so-called marriage has been dead on arrival.' The caller was her former mentor from her overseas studies. He'd reached out lately, hoping she'd join his new team and spearhead a major project. At the time, she'd kept saying no out of loyalty to Bradly. Now, she only wished she'd seen through the absurd joke of their marriage earlier. After the call, she contacted immigration to schedule a passport renewal. It would take about a week. But before heading out, she had one loose end to tie up. That evening, Stella showed up at a private auction at the Cloud Hotel. She was after one of her mother's keepsakes. Her mom had died when she was eight, and soon after, the Daniels family had liquidated her wedding gift. Stella had been hunting down the items ever since. Over the years, she'd only reclaimed a few. Tonight's auction featured a bracelet from that collection, one her mother had picked up on a trip to Ijance. It was utterly unique, irreplaceable. Whatever it took, she was getting it back. Stella settled into her seat just as the auction was about to start. She was flipping through the catalog when Bradly's voice floated over. "Didn't I already pick out that royal blue sapphire set for you? Not good enough?" His voice carried that familiar tenderness. Shanna linked her arm with his, pouting playfully. "Your taste sucks! I want to pick my own birthday gift." Stella watched them quietly until Bradly threaded through the guests and their gazes collided by chance. The color drained from his face. On pure reflex, he jerked his arm away from Shanna. "Stella." He strode over quickly. "I tried calling you a few times, but you didn't answer. Were you planning to surprise me?" Even though he tried to play it cool, she could still catch that subtle hint of panic in his expression. Stella didn't bother calling him on it, replying evenly, "My phone was on silent. I didn't hear it." Bradly visibly relaxed, casually taking her hand in his with a look of concern. "Your hands are like ice. Didn't I warn you about the cold snap today? You're always putting style over staying warm. If you catch a chill, you know it'll just kill me." As he talked, he signaled a server for a blanket and draped it snugly around her shoulders. Stella kept a straight face, brushing him off as she looked past him to Shanna, who lingered behind with a scowl. Shanna nibbled her lip, then defiantly dropped into the seat next to Bradly, her gaze simmering with irritation. Bradly leaned closer, dropping his voice to explain, "We just wrapped up a major project at the company, and Shanna pulled her weight big time. Her birthday's around the corner, so I thought I'd treat her to something as a project bonus." He eyed her anxiously. "Stella, you're not mad, right?" Shanna piped up in a soft, vulnerable tone. "Mrs. Woodard, if this upsets you, I'll just go. I don't want to get in the way of you and Mr. Woodard." Stella's mouth quirked into a smile that never touched her eyes. "We're married. A little thing like this? Of course it doesn't bother me." The auction got underway shortly after. Bradly treated Shanna like she was invisible, focusing entirely on Stella. He paged through the catalog, throwing in bids left and right. "Babe, this would look amazing on you." He grinned, tenderly brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his tone warm and intimate. "You'd be gorgeous in it." Stella averted her eyes, but out of the corner of her vision, she saw Shanna discreetly clutching the edge of Bradly's jacket in the dim light. Their gazes locked for a split second in a shared, lingering look. She masked the derision in her own eyes, struck by how absurd it all was. Bradly seemed totally at ease juggling both women, convinced he was keeping things balanced, one with the official status, the other with his undivided public attention. She thought, 'What could be fairer than that?' But Stella had never been interested in that kind of equilibrium. Her world extended far beyond romance. Bradly? He was just a small detour on her path, a misstep she'd own up to. And now, it was time to set things right. "Next up: a string of bracelet. Fine-grained texture, deep aroma that lingers. Starting bid at 170,000 dollars, with increments of at least 20,000 dollars!" The auctioneer's pumped-up voice echoed through the room. Finally, Stella's main target for the evening. Bids flew in fast, the screen flickering with updates as the auctioneer called out, "Number 17 lady at 200,000 dollars! Number 9 gentleman ups it to 260,000 dollars! Going higher?" Once the initial frenzy tapered off, Stella lifted her paddle. "500,000 dollars." She'd doubled the current bid in one go. It was a hefty amount. Sure, the bracelet was top-notch, but it wasn't the auction's highlight. The room went quiet after her call; no one countered. "Fantastic! Number 11 lady at 500,000 dollars! "500,000 dollars once! 500,000 dollars twice!" The auctioneer hoisted his gavel, poised to bring it down. "No more bids? Then 500,000 dollars—" "520,000 dollars," A gentle, hesitant voice interrupted. Shanna shrank against Bradly's side, paddle in hand, murmuring timidly to him, "Is this where I put in the amount?" Chapter 3 You're Dirty Stella frowned and raised her bid. "540,000 dollars." But Shanna was right behind her, countering with, "560,000 dollars." How annoyingly precise, each time, she stuck to the bare minimum, slapping on just 20,000 dollars more than Stella's offer. Shanna turned toward her, her voice dripping with plea. "Stella, you've got plenty of jewelry already. Please, let me have this one. I adore it. "I'm not like you, born with money, everything handed to you on a silver platter. You snap your fingers and get whatever you want. If it goes any higher, I really won't be able to keep up." Stella didn't bother looking at her, just quirking her lips in a thin smile. "Isn't Mr. Woodard covering the cost for you? What are you stressing about?" Shanna's face went a shade paler, but she answered in that soft, demure tone, "Even so, Mr. Woodard earns his money the hard way. If I can save him a bit, I ought to." She was the epitome of considerate and caring. After several more back-and-forth bids, the bracelet's price had soared to 700,000 dollars. Stella let out a chilly scoff and was opening her mouth to up the ante when Bradly beat her to it. He said, "Babe, why don't we just let Shanna take this bracelet?" Stella's fingers curled into a tight fist, her nails biting into her palm. She lifted her gaze, any lingering warmth in her eyes turning to ice. "What did you just say?" Bradly let out a resigned sigh, giving her hand a comforting pat as he murmured gently, "Babe, I already told Shanna she'd get a gift tonight, and she's got her heart set on this one. No need to compete with her. "Plus, I've already snagged you a handful of other pieces. Isn't that plenty?" He said it all lightly, teasingly, as if it were nothing more than a harmless quip. Stella shut her eyes, a nameless sourness creeping along her nerves, coiling around her heart until it felt like she couldn't draw a breath. Given Shanna's modest background, 700,000 dollars was way out of her league. She wouldn't even make the guest list here on her own. The only reason she was in that seat, trading bids blow for blow, was Bradly's backing. His pampering had delivered her straight into Stella's path. Stella whispered, "What if I refuse to back down?" She hoisted her paddle once more, her voice echoing through the room. "1 million dollars." A hush blanketed the hall. The auctioneer clearly picked up on the drama, his delivery faltering. "Number eleven at 1 million dollars. Do I hear higher?" Shanna's eyes welled up, on the verge of tears, as she cast a helpless look at Bradly before tacking on another fifty thousand. "1 million 20 thousand dollars." Stella's features hardened to frost, and she was poised to fire back when the manager bustled over, bending close to murmur, "Mrs. Woodard, apologies. We ran a credit verification on your account, and it's frozen. Got another one we can use?" The words slammed into her like a bolt from the blue, ringing in her ears. She snapped her head toward Bradly, but he'd already looked away. An icy numbness spread through her arms and legs. She though,t 'Of course, it has to be him.' Her primary account was linked with his; besides her, only he could authorize a freeze on her cards. Triumph flickered in Shanna's eyes as she added with a pointed edge, "Well, in that case, Mrs. Woodard, maybe it's time to step aside. You've got so much already. Can't you let me have this one little thing?" Up on stage, the auction rolled on, the display frozen on Shanna's latest bid: 1 million 20 thousand dollars. Shanna could hardly hide her glee, chirping sweetly, "Go on, call it!" But the words had barely left her lips when someone announced he would bid for the lot at any costs right in the second-floor VIP suite. After a momentary silence, the room burst into chaos. "He's declared absolute intent!" Even the auctioneer's expression changed. He'd been in the game for over a decade, but this was his first encounter with such a scenario. He hurriedly called out, "Lot number six goes to the gentleman in box 217, regardless of how high the price goes." Anyone up in those second-floor VIP suites was either swimming in money or held serious sway in Ostralver's upper crust. Stella glanced upward toward the source of the voice, catching only a vague outline behind the draped curtains. Even when she couldn't see his face, the man's crossed-legged posture radiated an unspoken dominance that pressed down on the room. The auctioneer slammed his gavel down with finality, proclaiming, "Congratulations to our esteemed guest in box 217 on winning lot number six! You're now upgraded to black gold status!" Across all of Ostralver's elite scene, fewer than a handful had ever hit black gold level at these events. Stella wondered, 'Just who is this mystery man?' Stella loosened her clenched fist slightly, torn between relief that her mother's heirloom hadn't landed in Shanna's clutches and anxiety over reclaiming it from this unknown figure. No matter what, she'd stop at nothing, pay any price, to bring her mother's possession home. She rose to her feet, intent on marching over to box 217 for a chat, when the attendant who'd just ducked inside reappeared, tray in hand with the bracelet. "What's this? The bidder in 217 having second thoughts?" "Auctions don't do take-backs." "Probably short on funds. I called it. No one's done this here before." As the murmurs swirled, the attendant headed straight for Stella, dipping into a courteous bow with a warm smile. She said, "Mrs. Woodard, the gentleman in box 217 requests that I deliver the bracelet to you as a gift. He wishes for you to follow your true path and for all to unfold as it should." The place erupted in gossip once more, with guests shooting glances her way, some envious, others skeptical, many flat-out stunned. "Isn't that Mrs. Woodard? What's her deal with the upstairs guy?" "Likely just buttering up Mr. Woodard." "Nah, I don't buy it. Out of all the goodies tonight, why zero in on those beads for Mrs. Woodard? Sounds like she's got a real connection there." The buzz filtered through, and Bradly's face turned stone-cold. In a tight, edged voice, he demanded, "Stella, what's the story with you and whoever's in box 217?" Stella held his piercing stare and said flatly, "I have no idea who he is." "!" Bradly jumped up, clamping down on her wrist like a vice. Her soft, fair skin reddened almost instantly under the pressure. Stella winced sharply, jerking her arm back on reflex. "Bradly, have you lost your mind? Haven't you stirred up enough drama for one day?" But he barreled on, blind to her fury, his reddened eyes locked on her as if he could swallow her up. "What's really between you two? "Stella, through all our married years, I've bent over backward for you. Anything you desired, I served it up without question. Why would you betray me like this?" In his mind, it was already a done deal: she was entangled in something shady with the man above. If the guy was angling for a favor from him, Bradly would've recognized him right away. People in Ostralver didn't beat around the bush when they needed something from him. They came direct. The jab landed raw and direct. Bradly blinked, frozen for a beat as a flicker of alarm shot through his eyes. Chapter 4 Don't Know You'd Come Bradly said, "I'm sorry, Stella. I didn't mean it like that. I had no right getting jealous over you and some stranger. It's all on me." Bradly's eyes reddened. "But honestly, there's nothing going on between Shanna and me. I just brought her along as a thank-you. Can you let this slide?" Seeing his cue, Shanna ducked her head meekly, her voice catching. "That's right, Mrs. Woodard. I've been bending over backward to keep my distance from Mr. Woodard so you wouldn't get the wrong impression. "I'm not asking for the world, just a decent birthday gift. I didn't grow up with your advantages; you've had everything handed to you and even snagged a catch like Mr. Woodard. Can't I at least pick out something for myself?" "Just a gift, huh?" Stella closed in on her, one step at a time. "Ms. Erickson, I've never given a damn about this 'gift' you're going on about. What gets under my skin is you, a Woodard Group employee, crossing lines you have no business crossing." As they drew closer, Bradly instinctively stepped in front of Shanna, his voice soft and coaxing. "Stella, if it's bugging you this much, I'll transfer her to a branch office once the auction's over. "But for now, cut me some slack. Let Shanna have the bracelet. When we get home, name your price on anything, and it's yours." Shanna bobbed her head in agreement, tears glistening on her lashes as she pleaded, "Stella, I really adore this bracelet. You've got it all already. Why go after the one thing I want? "Or is this just because you hate my guts and can't resist taking shots at me?" "What makes you think I'd ever like you?" Stella let out a cold snort. "This belonged to me from the start. Why the hell would I give it up?" She took the bracelet from the attendant with casual ease, her smile sharp but empty. "Ms. Erickson, know your place." Her refusal to budge finally wore through Bradly's patience, erasing every bit of softness from his face. "Stella, do you have to humiliate me like this in front of everyone? Where does that leave my dignity? "It's just a crappy old bracelet. Am I really worth less to you than some trinket?" He said it with such conviction, as if he'd wiped from his memory the solemn vow he'd made when proposing: that he'd hunt down every single one of her mother's sold-off keepsakes, no matter what. Stella's hand flew up, delivering a resounding slap across his cheek. The sharp crack rang out, pulling shocked stares from every corner of the room. Bradly's head snapped sideways, his face livid as he fixed her with a glare, his words hissing through clenched teeth. "Stella, drop the drama already. Have I pampered you too much these days, turning you into this unreasonable nightmare?" Stella reined in her temper, keeping her tone even. "Bradly, you better not live to regret today." Without another word, she turned and walked out, not sparing a backward glance. As her figure receded, Shanna gently touched the angry red mark on Bradly's cheek, her voice full of worry. "Mr. Woodard, are you okay? "Stella's got no boundaries. How could she hit you with all these people watching?" Bradly swatted her hand aside, his nails digging into his palm as he stared after her retreating path. "I've spoiled her rotten, letting her forget that everything she has comes from me." Shanna peeked at his changing expression, testing the waters. "Mr. Woodard, about the bracelet..." Bradly rubbed his throbbing cheek, pulled a bank card from his pocket, and handed it over. "1.7 million dollars on there. Buy whatever catches your eye." Box 217, Stella rapped on the door, eager to thank the mystery bidder face-to-face. Silence. She caught a server walking by. "Excuse me, any idea where the gentleman from this box headed?" "He slipped out right after nabbing the last item," the server said. Disappointment flashed in her eyes, but Stella pressed on, "Do you know who he was?" The server gave her a regretful smile. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard, we're not allowed to spill on our VIPs. Don't make this harder for us." Catching herself, Stella moved out of the way. "Thanks all the same." By the time she made it home from the auction, an hour had ticked by. Stella went straight up to the study, fired up the computer, and dove into the assets registered under her and Bradly's names. After tallying up the numbers, she snatched her phone, found lawyer Rubin Cobb's contact, and hit dial. She said, "I've sorted out the asset division documents for me and Bradly and sent them over. I need you to handle the property split by tomorrow." Rubin quickly received the files and nodded respectfully. "Of course, Mrs. Woodard. I'll get right on it." Stella stared intently at her computer screen, her grip tightening on the mouse. "If Bradly's committed bigamy, how should our assets be divided?" "Generally, any property the bigamous party gained through the bigamy can be claimed back by the other spouse," Rubin replied matter-of-factly. Half of Bradly's current wealth had come from Stella's investments to support his career early on. Her expression darkened, and she promptly forwarded the marriage license between him and Shanna. "Rubin, please use every legal avenue to recover my half of the assets." After hanging up, Stella slumped back in her chair, utterly drained physically and emotionally. She closed her eyes slowly, but sleep was nowhere in sight. Bradly would never agree to a divorce. Until she had everything locked down, she couldn't let on that anything was amiss. Just then, the study door was kicked open from the outside. Bradly flung his jacket onto the desk and yanked Stella up from her seat in front of the computer. "Do you realize that because of your little outburst, I've become a laughingstock in our circles? "What exactly do you want? Are you still obsessing over what happened back then?" Stella opened her eyes slowly, her gaze settling calmly on Bradly, but she remained silent. A fire raged in Bradly's chest, intensifying by the second, and he couldn't hold back his fury any longer. "Since we got married, have I ever done anything to wrong you? I come home right on time every night after work, I always fill you in on any business dinners, and if there's even a hint of a woman involved, I skip them entirely! I've bent over backward, and it's still not good enough for you?" He remembered every detail crystal clear. In his mind, these were the sacrifices he'd made to marry her. Stella suddenly found the whole thing absurd. She couldn't bear to look at him anymore, so she stood up and walked straight out of the study without a backward glance. Behind her, Bradly's voice echoed heavily. "Stella, no matter what you think, my conscience is clear." It felt like Stella's heart had been shattered into icy fragments, a sharp, bitter pain surging through her. Her mind buzzed, and for a moment, all she could hear was that phrase repeating over and over. She thought, 'My conscience is clear? So, in his eyes, everything he's done is perfectly justifiable.' The next morning, when Stella woke up, Bradly was already gone. On the table sat the breakfast he'd prepared, tailored exactly to her tastes. Stella pressed her lips together, her feelings a complicated tangle. They'd ended things on a sour note last night, yet Bradly had still made her breakfast this morning. But this was the same man who'd lied to her for years. No matter what, it was time to end things with Bradly. She didn't touch the food and headed straight to the office. These past few years, she'd stayed out of Bradly's business dealings. A lot of her old financial records were outdated now, and she needed the latest reports. The secretary looked startled when she saw her, then managed to say, "Mrs. Woodard, are you here to see Mr. Woodard?" "No." Stella replied evenly. "Send the finance manager in to see me." Her shares were second only to Bradly's, giving her full access to every aspect of the company. The secretary hesitated briefly before nodding. Stella noticed her immediately turning to make a phone call, probably alerting Bradly. Stella didn't intervene; let her. She settled into the finance office, sipping her coffee absentmindedly while flipping through magazines on the shelf. Most were glossy entertainment rags, mixed in with novels and comics. Stella frowned, only now picking up on the details: the desk was covered in a pink plaid mat, cluttered with adorable plush toys. The standout pair was a set of couple dolls, their outfits emblazoned with the letters W and E. It hit Stella suddenly what that meant, and just then, the door behind her swung open. Shanna rushed in. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard." She was clutching a cup of coffee as she apologized. "I had no idea you'd drop by like this..." Chapter 5 All For Milford Stella arched an eyebrow as she looked her over. "So you're the finance manager?" Shanna nodded with a quick smile. "That's me. If you need anything at all, just say the word. Bradly, well, Mr. Woodard is tied up in a meeting right now. But don't worry, I'll make sure to relay whatever message you have." Stella let out a soft laugh. "No need for that." She regarded Shanna with clear curiosity. "I'm not looking for Bradly. I'm here to see you." Shanna's smile faltered for a moment before she recovered, her tone turning gentle. "Mrs. Woodard, I get that you're still bothered by what went down at the auction last night, but there's no reason to be so worked up about my connection to Mr. Woodard. After all..." She raised her hand, the elegant diamond ring on her finger glinting under the light, perfectly complementing her bashful grin. "I'm already married, and things are great between me and my husband." Stella's eyes locked on the ring, her breath hitching just for an instant. It was ridiculous. In this whole messed-up situation, she was the one playing the role of the mistress. The ring was an exact match for the one Bradly had given her during his proposal. But within seconds, Stella averted her gaze. "It's a lovely ring, but you're mistaken." She spoke unhurriedly, "I'm just here to grab the latest financial report from you. That's all." Stella caught the sour shift in Shanna's expression and smiled to herself. "Seems like you're the one on edge here, Ms. Erickson." Shanna's face transformed completely, that smug spark in her eyes snuffed out. She bit her lip, unable to find words for a long beat. Stella watched her with unruffled poise. "Do I need to repeat my request, Ms. Erickson?" The words had barely left her mouth when Bradly burst in, his expression clouding over at the sight. "Stella, wasn't the scene from last night enough?" His voice was laced with ice. "How long are you planning to drag this out? I've told you already. There's nothing going on between me and Shanna. If you don't believe me..." Stella interrupted him mid-sentence, "Oh, I believe you. Absolutely." A faint smirk tugged at her lips, though her eyes remained frosty as they settled on Shanna. "After all, Ms. Erickson's already married. She just mentioned it herself." The statement landed like a bomb. Shanna's face drained of color, and Bradly's followed suit. He shot her a withering glare. Tears sprang to Shanna's eyes in an instant. Stella had no interest in watching the drama unfold any further. She said evenly, "I'm here for this year's financials. I hold forty percent of the company. Surely I can access that, right?" Bradly seemed to snap back to reality, nodding hastily. "Of course you can." He barked orders at the secretary to fetch it immediately, all the while stealing wary glances at her face. Once he confirmed she wasn't giving anything away, he exhaled almost imperceptibly in relief. He said, "Stella, what's with the sudden interest? You've never bothered with company matters before." Stella answered coolly, "After the account freeze last night, I decided it's smarter to set up a separate one." Bradly's expression froze again. "Stella..." The secretary returned promptly with the report. Stella brushed Bradly aside, skimmed through it quickly, and was heading for the door when he caught her by the wrist. He said, "Stella, about the family dinner tonight, are you coming home with me?" His tone was pleading, like he needed her answer to reassure himself that she hadn't caught on to anything fishy. Stella didn't look back, just replying calmly, "Sure." Bradly's face lit up. "Great, I'll swing by after work to pick you up." Stella dropped her gaze, masking the cool detachment in her eyes. She'd only agreed to head back to the family estate for one specific reason. The marriage license from when she and Bradly had tied the knot was a phony, but he'd made a whole production out of stashing it away at the house, claiming it had to be kept secure. Nothing could serve as stronger proof. Once she got her hands on it, his bigamy would be ironclad. Stella didn't bother waiting for Bradly; she hailed a cab and got there ahead of time. She'd figured it was just a standard family gathering, but she was caught off guard by the full turnout. Bradly's parents, fresh from their overseas vacation last week, were back, and even the distant relatives from the Woodard family's side branches had shown up en masse. "Stella, dear." As she walked in, Nadine Woodard peered over her shoulder. "Bradly didn't come with you?" Stella answered evenly, "He'll be along shortly." Nadine clicked her tongue, her irritation obvious. "On an important occasion like this, letting someone from outside the family arrive solo, what's got into him?" Stella's brow furrowed just a touch. She and Bradly had been engaged since childhood, but after her mother's passing, the Daniels family's status had tanked while the Woodard family kept climbing. That was when Nadine started pushing to scrap the arrangement, and she'd mentioned it more than a few times. But Chuck Woodard was upright and principled, flat-out refusing to play the social-climbing game. With Bradly dead set on marrying her and no one else, Nadine had reluctantly given in, though she made her resentment clear. Even after the marriage, she never passed up an opportunity to give Stella the cold shoulder. She was about to add something else when the butler rushed in and murmured, "He's here." Nadine promptly dropped the subject with Stella and jumped to her feet, the extended family hustling out right behind her to welcome the arrivals. The level of pomp surprised Stella. The Woodard family was already at the top of Ostralver's social elite. For them to pull out all the stops like this... Standing at the edge of the group, Stella glanced up and saw a black Maybach rolling up to the front of the estate. Someone hurried forward to open the door respectfully, and a tall, imposing figure stepped out unhurriedly. The man wore a sleek black suit, his chiseled features sharp, eyes as midnight, radiating a fierce intensity. Every gesture exuded a natural poise and authority that made it tough to hold his stare. The crowd swarmed forward in a rush, but he stayed cool and detached the whole time, his stunningly handsome face as impassive as carved ice, showing zero emotion. Then, as if picking up on something, he looked up toward Stella. Their eyes locked unexpectedly, sending her heart pounding. It was Milford Woodard, Bradly's brother. He'd returned to the country. Though they were brothers in name, Milford wasn't all that tight with the family. He'd headed overseas young and had spent years growing the business abroad. His father Edward Woodard was a total lightweight, good only at spending cash, not earning it. His grandpa Chuck had the smarts and drive, but age was catching up, leaving him unable to manage it all. Real power over the Woodard family had shifted to Milford ages ago. Stella let out a quiet breath. She thought, 'That explains the big crowd today. They've all turned out for Milford.' Chapter 6 Need Help? Stella lingered in the corner of the living room, watching the relatives descend like a swarm of locusts, all scrambling to surround Milford. Bradly stood next to Nadine, flashing a polished smile as he greeted, "Hey, Milford." The uncles who'd been buttering up Bradly just a minute ago quickly switched gears, beaming with over-the-top enthusiasm as they stepped up to say hello. "Milford, what prompted the sudden return?" "Milford, I hear you're in the middle of acquiring a domestic company? You're just getting more impressive by the day." "Come on inside, take a seat. We've got some top-shelf coffee." Bradly caught the stark contrast in the uncles' warmth, his smile fading briefly before he pulled it together and led the way forward. Stella quietly eyed the tall, strikingly handsome Milford striding into the living room like the star of the show, instinctively edging back a step. Now fully pushed to the fringes of the crowd, she shifted aside to let the trailing group pass, doing everything she could to blend into the wallpaper. Milford approached steadily. Unlike Bradly's flashy, outgoing vibe, he had a more brooding, aloof kind of handsomeness, like a pine tree blanketed in snow, regal and intimidating. He acknowledged the flattery around him with simple nods, his eyes scanning the room casually, subtly taking stock of everyone there. Until his gaze swept over Stella again, and he came to an abrupt halt. He paused, causing Bradly to stop too. "Something wrong, Milford?" Milford didn't respond, his steady gaze fixed on Stella. It was only a look, but it jolted her to her core. She felt an odd sense of being claimed, uninvited. Yet she'd barely crossed paths with Milford before. Bradly and the others traced his stare, his eyebrow quirking up. "Stella, come say hi to Big Milford." Stella started to step forward, but Milford beat her to it, walking straight toward her. Bradly and the rest exchanged surprised glances. So far, everyone had been approaching Milford. He hadn't initiated with a soul. Milford's deep eyes gave nothing away. "Stella?" Her breath hitched, like a faint breeze had brushed her ear. She hadn't anticipated him coming over to chat. It had been years, and they'd only met once or twice, but he still remembered her. Stella nodded. "Milford, it's been ages—" Before she could finish, Milford held out his hand. The move was so casual, so natural. Out of pure reflex and politeness, Stella extended hers, their palms connecting. In that brief clasp, she felt him squeeze gently, his thumb settling on her fingers and grazing them with a warm intensity. Milford released after just a second. Suddenly, Bradly sidled up, drawing Stella into his side with an arm around her waist, lacing his fingers through her left hand. He said, "Milford, how long are you in town this time? Stella and I can take you out to dinner one of these days." Milford took in their cozy pose, his glance dropping to their intertwined hands. "About a month." The words had barely left his mouth when Chuck came down the stairs, leaning on the butler for support. Milford headed over to talk with him. Not long after, the kitchen called that the party was ready. Stella trailed Bradly to their seats on the left side of the main table. Everyone filed in and sat. As the eldest branch, the two Woodard brothers took priority. Chuck claimed the head of the main table, with Nadine and Milford next in line. Stella and Bradly fell further down the order, landing her right across from Milford on the diagonal. The family feast got underway, with everyone firing questions at Milford about what he'd been up to lately. Stella kept her head down, nibbling at her food while catching bits of the conversation. Zrester bigwig, major stakeholder in Wonder Group, founder of that financial exchange and the smart transportation AI... Milford's credentials were endless and mind-blowing. She thought back to that Zrester party invite list she'd snagged years ago. Milford was third from the top, while she languished at the bottom. In all these years, she'd had next to no interaction with him. Right after the wedding, this mysterious Milford had only shown up once. He dropped off a gift and vanished. In just a handful of years, Milford had climbed to the pinnacle of Zrester's power players. His talent was obvious. Before long, the family party wound down, and folks scattered to grab desserts. Still hung up on that marriage license, Stella excused herself to head upstairs for a coat change. Bradly was itching to chat with Milford, his gaze fixed that way as he muttered distractedly, "Yeah, go on up." Stella wasted no time hustling upstairs. With the crowd milling about downstairs, she slipped to the third floor of the villa and nudged open Bradly's bedroom door. There it was: the glaring marriage license perched right on top of the nightstand, framed, flanked by their wedding portrait. As she stepped closer, memories of Bradly's cozy moments with Shanna flooded her brain, her nails digging slowly into her palm. That license seared her eyes, like it was sneering at her gullibility. She never should've caved, never should've handed Bradly a second shot. It just went to show that people's hearts circled back for seconds. Disgust flickered in her eyes as she hauled the desk's computer chair over, the kind with wheels and a swivel, shaky at best. She climbed onto it, planting one foot on the bed for stability, teetering just enough to hold steady. Stella hiked up her pearl-white knee-length dress a bit and stretched upward slowly. Fingers extended to the max, but she was still a couple inches shy. She rose onto her tiptoes, straining, but no dice. Frowning from her perch, she scanned around and snagged a book from beside the cabinet. As she leaned down, footsteps suddenly echoed outside the door. Fast, but measured. A man's, for sure. Her pulse spiked. She clutched the table, scrambling to hop down, but, perfect timing, her other sleeve caught on the cabinet's edge. She tugged frantically to break free, but it was too late to descend. The door flew open out of nowhere. Stella went rigid, her knees giving way as she toppled backward off the chair. A quick yelp escaped her, but the expected crash never hit. A firm hand latched precisely onto her thigh, another banding around her waist, hauling her into a solid hold and planting her feet firmly on the floor. She slammed into a warm, toned chest, a crisp, grounding sandalwood aroma enveloping her, not Bradly's scent. Stella glanced up, nearly clipping the guy's chin. Milford let go right away, backing off a step to give her space. Her cheeks burned, the thigh he'd gripped feeling like it was on fire. Mortified and frozen, she stammered, "Th-thanks." Milford stayed composed, his eyes skimming her flushed face and the pinkened patch of skin on her thigh from his hold. His Adam's apple dipped subtly. "Didn't realize you were in here. My bad." Stella shook her head, even more flustered. She was the one imposing on him. Milford flicked a glance upward. "Need some help?" She looked too. Up top, the marriage license screamed for attention. Chapter 7 Don't Let Me Hate You Stella just came out with it. "I want to get the marriage license down." Milford hesitated for a beat, without probing why she needed it, and slid the chair out of the way. Tall and long-limbed, he barely had to tip up on his toes to snag it effortlessly. Milford skimmed the lettering on the license, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes before the faintest quirk tugged at his lips, almost undetectable. He passed it over to Stella. "Ah, I see." She missed the words, taking it with a soft murmur: "Thanks, Milford." Her palms were slick with sweat now, but holding the certificate still sent an icy shiver through her. Those bold letters were a brutal reminder. This whole marriage had been one big joke. From beginning to end, Bradly's grand performance of undying love had always had a third wheel in the shadows. Milford dropped his gaze. Towering over her, all he could make out was the neat swirl at the top of her head, round and oddly appealing. Those slim, pale hands gripped the certificate like a vise, completely bloodless. Milford asked offhandedly, "So, what's the marriage license for?" "Oh, I just want to bring it home and store it there," Stella shot back, pulling an excuse out of thin air. Milford's stare felt like it enveloped her, the heat of it almost scorching, though he kept his hands to himself. Then he casually adjusted his cufflinks and turned to go. Stella let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, sagging against the cool cabinet. Her thigh still tingled with warmth from his grip; she quickly smoothed her skirt down, tucked the license into her bag, and only left the room once everything looked undisturbed. Bradly was still out in the back garden, deep in conversation. Stella kept her face neutral, strolling over to stand at his side. A few relatives were chatting with him. "Hey, word is Milford actually got back a couple days ago, but only tipped us off today." Bradly looked taken aback. "I thought he was flying in today?" "Nope, sounds like he hit up some auction. I only heard bits and pieces, supposedly the other night at the Empire Auction House." "He must not have gone. I was there that evening too, and I didn't see him anywhere," Bradly said, frowning in confusion. Stella's eyelashes flickered subtly, but she played it cool. Out of nowhere, her mind jumped back to that enigmatic bidder in suite 217. She wondered, 'Could Milford be the mystery guest who got the bracelet for me?' She shoved the thought down as soon as it surfaced. They'd only crossed paths once, total strangers really, connected by the flimsiest in-law tie. No matter how you sliced it, Milford wouldn't stick his neck out for her. Just like Bradly said, he hadn't caught wind of anything, so it couldn't be Milford. Stella let it go. After some more mingling, the group started to break up. Bradly steered her over to bid farewell to Milford. "Mom, Milford, we're taking off. Let's set up a family dinner soon when things settle." Milford slouched back in his chair with effortless nonchalance and gave a nod. "I'm knee-deep in an acquisition, no hurry on the get-together. But you..." He lifted his head, his expression sharpening. "Keep your life on the straight and narrow. Don't veer off track." The edge of warning in his voice was crystal clear. Bradly had grown up overshadowed by Milford; he went rigid but brushed it off casually. "Come on, everything's good. My company's running smooth as ever. If you're skeptical, drop by anytime and pore over the financials—knock yourself out." "It's not just about the company," Milford said softly, eyes down as he savored a sip of coffee. Stella couldn't help stealing a glance at him, and in that instant, a ridiculous idea struck her. From what Bradly had mentioned, Milford was abroad most of the time but still had the inside scoop on everything back home. She wondered, 'Does he know about the shady stuff Bradly is up to on the sly?' "Milford, I hear you. I'll make sure to nurture my marriage with Stella, our whole life together." Bradly grinned, threading his fingers through Stella's. Milford's gaze lingered on their joined hands for a second before drifting away, sealed with a subtle nod. Stella had no desire for any more close contact with Bradly, so she subtly shook his hand free without thinking. A split second later, his disbelieving stare locked onto her face, and he tried to grab her again. She'd known her move would humiliate him in the moment, so she didn't bother saying goodbye to Milford. She just turned and walked out ahead. Once they slid into the car, Bradly shed his polite, deferential mask from earlier, reverting to his entitled rich-kid swagger. He tugged his tie loose, a flicker of annoyance pinching his brows. "Always playing the big-brother card to chew me out, same crap since we were little. "So what if he's crushing it overseas? I'm holding my own just fine back home. Who in Ostralver would even think about messing with me?" Bradly fished out a menthol cigarette on autopilot, ready to light up, but he caught himself after glancing at Stella and shoved it back. He said, "All these years, folks have been whispering, or saying it straight to my face, that my company's thriving because of his pull. Like he's behind every damn thing. "And you? You flat-out refused to let me hold your hand back there. Trying to make me look like an idiot in front of him?" His expression iced over, the edge in his voice impossible to miss. Stella's frown deepened as she took it in. Even without knowing Milford all that well, she understood that Bradly's cocky antics in Ostralver, brushing people off like they were nothing, had always been propped up by Milford's clout. She'd assumed the brothers were tight, but clearly Bradly's respect was just for show; underneath, his grudge against Milford simmered deep. She could overlook a lot, but with things the way they were now, there was zero point in him putting on that phony hand-holding act. Stella gripped her bag, the one with the marriage license inside, and couldn't bite her tongue. "We haven't held hands in forever. It feels off to me." The car went dead quiet. She was right. Their physical closeness had dwindled so much that even she couldn't pinpoint the last time. Bradly's brow creased, and he snapped the cigarette filter clean off between his fingers. "What was that?" Stella met his eyes steadily. "From here on out, let's skip the pointless touchy-feely stuff. It just doesn't sit right." She hadn't even finished when the brakes screeched harshly. The car lurched to a halt on the empty shoulder of the road. Stella almost smacked into the window from the force, her pulse hammering as she barked, "Are you out of your mind?" Bradly loomed over her, fingers digging into her chin, irritation boiling in his glare. "Stella, do you have any idea what you're saying?" The pinch stung like crazy, and the absurdity of it all hit her as she wrestled to shove him off. "Is it not true? When's the last time we even held hands. Can you remember?" Bradly's gaze turned stormy, like she'd struck a raw spot. "I bet you're hung up on Milford, just like that girl from the second branch. That's why you pulled away in front of him. You're trying to cut ties with me?" "Bradly! What the hell are you babbling about?" Anger surged through her as she pushed harder. "Don't you dare pin your gross history on me!" The way the family had orbited Milford like he was the sun had obviously gotten under his skin. The more she resisted, the darker his look grew. Abruptly, he leaned in and smashed his mouth against hers. Stella's eyes flew wide, her head whipping aside to evade as she hammered at his shoulders with everything she had. He'd locked lips with Shanna god knows how often. The thought turned her stomach, so she clamped down and bit him hard. Bradly yelped in pain, jerking back as the fog cleared and he clocked what he'd just done, regret flashing across his face. Blood dotted his lip, but he brushed it off, lunging to wrap her in his arms. "I'm sorry, Stella, baby, I'm so sorry. I screwed up; it was a stupid impulse..." Drained of energy, Stella sagged into the passenger seat, letting him hold her while a barren wave of emptiness and revulsion washed over her. The hug she'd once melted into now repulsed her to her core. "Get off me." Her voice came out rough and scratchy. "Bradly, don't push me to hating you."
Chapter 1 Don't Want Him Anymore "I'm sorry, ma'am." On the other end of the line, the insurance customer service rep said coolly, "After checking our records, the car owner, Mr. Woodard, is indeed married, but the spouse listed here isn't you." Stella Daniels had gotten into a car accident on her way to the Woodard Group headquarters. She couldn't get through to Bradly Woodard on his phone, so she had no choice but to call the insurance company. The car was registered in Bradly's name, but as his wife, she should be able to process the claim too. "When Mr. Woodard picked up the car, he came with his wife and provided the original marriage license. Her last name is Erickson, and her full name is Shanna Erickson," the rep said. It hit Stella like a slap in the face. Dizziness washed over her in waves, leaving her whole body shaking uncontrollably. She and Bradly had been childhood sweethearts. Their families were old friends, and everyone in Ostralver's high society knew how clingy he was with her. Bradly couldn't stand being apart from her even for a single day. Three years ago, when Stella headed abroad for her studies, Bradly had the plane stopped just for her. During her three years in Ensland, he expanded his business overseas to make it easier to look after her. Sixteen thousand miles apart, he'd still fly across the ocean every week to see her. The year she came down with a severe lung illness and nearly didn't pull through, she spent a week in intensive care. Bradly ignored the infection risks and stayed right by her side, sliding a ring onto her finger. He said, "If anything happens to you, I'll go with you. We'll be husband and wife in the next life too." For Bradly's sake, she turned down her mentor's offer to stay on in the lab and headed back home. Brimming with excitement, she went to find him, planning to surprise him. But when she pushed open the door to the CEO's office, she saw a slender, pretty woman straddling his lap. The woman's innocent face tilted upward, her voice whiny and aggrieved. "Mr. Woodard, what happens to me now that Stella is back?" Bradly sat in his executive chair, his tall frame looming over her. A flash of ruthlessness crossed his stern features. "You? You're just her stand-in. Don't forget your place." He lifted his hand, pinching her delicate chin with a sneer. "Barely a three-out-of-ten resemblance, and you think you can compare to her?" Stella was still clutching the gift she'd prepared for him. With a loud "bang," it dropped to the floor, finally breaking the scene in the office. Bradly's face drained of color as he shoved the woman off and jumped to his feet. That woman was Shanna. After Stella caught them in the act, Bradly fired Shanna on the spot and pulled out all the stops to win her back. Bradly, the arrogant prince of Ostralver's elite circles, humbled himself to the dust before her, begging her to give him another chance. Any project she set her sights on, he'd drop without a second thought. He stood in the pouring rain outside her building for over a week, just for a glimpse of her. He said, "Stella, I'm not asking you to forgive me. At least let me explain. "I only ever saw Shanna as your replacement. You've been gone abroad for so long; I missed you terribly. I swear, I just kept her around. Nothing more ever happened between us. "That time you walked in, I'd had too much to drink, and she deliberately tempted me. I lost control for a moment... "I've already let her go, and she won't show up in our lives again. Stella, please, come back to me." Back then, Stella couldn't stand even the slightest betrayal. She insisted on breaking off the engagement. Until that one incident. She was kidnapped by a business rival. The kidnappers reneged on the deal, tied her up in an abandoned factory, and set the place ablaze. Bradly charged into the flames without a second thought to rescue her, shielding her from a collapsing steel beam. He ended up gravely injured, confined to bed for nearly six months. By risking his life, Bradly finally melted her resolve. Once he was out of the hospital, she accepted his proposal, and they threw a lavish wedding. In the two years since they tied the knot, he'd treated her just as devotedly as ever, with zero scandals. He even imposed a strict curfew on himself, heading home right on time every day. Even on out-of-town business trips, he'd video call her constantly. His partners would tease him about being henpecked. He never denied it. Instead, he'd grin proudly and say, "A real man takes care of his family." Memories rushed through Stella's mind like a whirlwind, every past moment flashing by in a blur. Her legs buckled, and she dropped to her knees, burying her face in her hands. She couldn't figure out which Bradly was the real one anymore. A bitter, mocking gleam sparked in her eyes. She thought, 'How absurd.' She'd been his wife for two years, and only now was she learning that even their marriage license had been a sham. Stella scrubbed her face hard, her bangs already soaked with cold sweat. She ignored the other driver's furious yelling and calmly dialed the police. They showed up fast. After finishing her statement, Stella left the station under a sky that had gone completely dark. Her phone lit up with several missed calls from Bradly. When she hadn't answered, he'd sent texts instead. Bradly: [Babe, I was tied up in a key meeting this afternoon. Signal jammers were on, so I missed your call. You okay?] Bradly: [I've got a client dinner tonight, so I'll be late getting home. I double-checked: no women involved, so no need to worry.] Bradly: [Head to bed early. Don't wait up. Love you.] Stella stared at the screen, a sharp wave of irony twisting in her gut. Bradly didn't stagger in until the wee hours. He reeked of alcohol, which almost, but not quite, masked the subtle whiff of perfume on him. "Honey..." He could barely keep his balance, stumbling over to wrap his arms around her through the blanket. "I missed you so damn much..." Stella didn't say a word. Only once he was dead to the world did she sit up quietly and unlock his phone with his fingerprint. The thing was squeaky clean, no suspicious traces at all. His contacts were mostly buddies and business folks, with hers pinned at the top as "Darling Wife." Flawlessly tidy, just like their sham of a marriage. Stella hooked the phone up to her computer, and it didn't take long to uncover his second WhatsApp account. She signed in, and right away, messages popped up from a profile with a cute pink kitten avatar, labeled "Baby." Shanna: [Bradly, thanks for tonight. Without you, I wouldn't have known what to do.] Shanna: [I've always thought meeting you was the luckiest thing that's ever happened to me. I won't intrude on your life. As long as you swing by to see me once in a while, that's enough to make me happy.] Stella scrolled back through the history. She'd suspected as much, but seeing it all laid out still hit her like a punch to the chest, leaving her breathless. They chatted nearly every day. Shanna never missed a good morning message, and Bradly's replies had shifted over time, from total silence at first, to sporadic responses, and now to answering every single one. A chill spread through her. Stella clutched the phone tighter, knowing she should quit while she was ahead but unable to stop herself from digging deeper. Shanna: [Bradly, sorry, I had a few drinks and lost it for a bit. Doc says I'm okay now, so don't stress.] Shanna: [Mrs. Woodard's birthday bash is important. Go enjoy it with her. I'll be fine.] Stella squeezed her eyes shut as the memory came rushing back. Her birthday. Bradly had spent over a month planning it down to the last detail, but that day, he was totally distracted. Hell, he almost cut his own hand while slicing the cake. When she'd asked what was up, he'd brushed it off as work drama, told her not to worry, then pulled her into a soft embrace and encouraged her to blow out the candles and make a wish. It all made sense now, as she stared at this chat log. That same day, Shanna had tried to kill herself by slashing her wrists and ended up in the ER. A sour bitterness flooded her chest like a rising tide. In those brief seconds when she'd closed her eyes to wish, she wondered, 'Was he agonizing over Shanna in the hospital, or picturing endless years together with her?' Stella knew she didn't need an answer to that anymore. She gently placed the phone back and looked down at Bradly, fast asleep beside her. She'd known him since she was four, and for the twenty years that followed, she'd truly believed his love was hers alone, irreplaceable. But now she saw it for what it was: just cheap free samples at a store, handed out to anyone who walked by. If that was all it amounted to, she was done with it. Chapter 2 Bid Against Her The next day, Stella woke to find Bradly busy in the kitchen, his broad shoulders narrowing to a slim waist, his tall, lean build moving with purpose. The sight hit her hard, a dull ache tightening in her chest. Bradly had learned to cook entirely for her sake. She still remembered that turbulent period when the Woodard Group was in crisis. His rivals had targeted her, paying off a servant to poison her food. She'd been unconscious for three full days. When she finally woke, Bradly was there, his eyes red-rimmed and veined with exhaustion, gripping her hand like a lifeline. The instant she stirred, the imposing Bradly crumbled forward, enveloping her in a hug as scalding tears fell onto her skin. From then on, Bradly threw himself into cooking lessons, taking charge of all her meals. In less than a month, he'd gone from a spoiled elite who couldn't distinguish spices to turning out dishes worthy of a Michelin chef. Just then, his phone rang. Stella glanced at it but made no move to answer. Bradly darted out of the kitchen, apron still on, grabbing the phone with a barely concealed flash of anxiety. Stella pretended not to notice and went to wash up. When she came back, the table was set with breakfast, and he was slipping into his suit jacket from the coat rack. Seeing her, he said gently, "There's an emergency at work. I have to run. Sorry I can't join you for breakfast." Stella murmured, "Sure, work comes first." He was clearly in a hurry, because he didn't pick up on the new edge of cool distance in her tone and rushed out. She stared blankly after him until he was gone, then dumped the entire spread into the trash. Then she picked up her phone and dialed a number. "That offer you made before? I'm on board." The person on the other end erupted in delight, chattering away before shifting to broken Andosa Language. "Stella, why the sudden change of heart? I've bugged you about this so many times, and you always said you were married now and focusing on family." A mocking glint flickered in Stella's eyes. She thought, 'Married? This so-called marriage has been dead on arrival.' The caller was her former mentor from her overseas studies. He'd reached out lately, hoping she'd join his new team and spearhead a major project. At the time, she'd kept saying no out of loyalty to Bradly. Now, she only wished she'd seen through the absurd joke of their marriage earlier. After the call, she contacted immigration to schedule a passport renewal. It would take about a week. But before heading out, she had one loose end to tie up. That evening, Stella showed up at a private auction at the Cloud Hotel. She was after one of her mother's keepsakes. Her mom had died when she was eight, and soon after, the Daniels family had liquidated her wedding gift. Stella had been hunting down the items ever since. Over the years, she'd only reclaimed a few. Tonight's auction featured a bracelet from that collection, one her mother had picked up on a trip to Ijance. It was utterly unique, irreplaceable. Whatever it took, she was getting it back. Stella settled into her seat just as the auction was about to start. She was flipping through the catalog when Bradly's voice floated over. "Didn't I already pick out that royal blue sapphire set for you? Not good enough?" His voice carried that familiar tenderness. Shanna linked her arm with his, pouting playfully. "Your taste sucks! I want to pick my own birthday gift." Stella watched them quietly until Bradly threaded through the guests and their gazes collided by chance. The color drained from his face. On pure reflex, he jerked his arm away from Shanna. "Stella." He strode over quickly. "I tried calling you a few times, but you didn't answer. Were you planning to surprise me?" Even though he tried to play it cool, she could still catch that subtle hint of panic in his expression. Stella didn't bother calling him on it, replying evenly, "My phone was on silent. I didn't hear it." Bradly visibly relaxed, casually taking her hand in his with a look of concern. "Your hands are like ice. Didn't I warn you about the cold snap today? You're always putting style over staying warm. If you catch a chill, you know it'll just kill me." As he talked, he signaled a server for a blanket and draped it snugly around her shoulders. Stella kept a straight face, brushing him off as she looked past him to Shanna, who lingered behind with a scowl. Shanna nibbled her lip, then defiantly dropped into the seat next to Bradly, her gaze simmering with irritation. Bradly leaned closer, dropping his voice to explain, "We just wrapped up a major project at the company, and Shanna pulled her weight big time. Her birthday's around the corner, so I thought I'd treat her to something as a project bonus." He eyed her anxiously. "Stella, you're not mad, right?" Shanna piped up in a soft, vulnerable tone. "Mrs. Woodard, if this upsets you, I'll just go. I don't want to get in the way of you and Mr. Woodard." Stella's mouth quirked into a smile that never touched her eyes. "We're married. A little thing like this? Of course it doesn't bother me." The auction got underway shortly after. Bradly treated Shanna like she was invisible, focusing entirely on Stella. He paged through the catalog, throwing in bids left and right. "Babe, this would look amazing on you." He grinned, tenderly brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his tone warm and intimate. "You'd be gorgeous in it." Stella averted her eyes, but out of the corner of her vision, she saw Shanna discreetly clutching the edge of Bradly's jacket in the dim light. Their gazes locked for a split second in a shared, lingering look. She masked the derision in her own eyes, struck by how absurd it all was. Bradly seemed totally at ease juggling both women, convinced he was keeping things balanced, one with the official status, the other with his undivided public attention. She thought, 'What could be fairer than that?' But Stella had never been interested in that kind of equilibrium. Her world extended far beyond romance. Bradly? He was just a small detour on her path, a misstep she'd own up to. And now, it was time to set things right. "Next up: a string of bracelet. Fine-grained texture, deep aroma that lingers. Starting bid at 170,000 dollars, with increments of at least 20,000 dollars!" The auctioneer's pumped-up voice echoed through the room. Finally, Stella's main target for the evening. Bids flew in fast, the screen flickering with updates as the auctioneer called out, "Number 17 lady at 200,000 dollars! Number 9 gentleman ups it to 260,000 dollars! Going higher?" Once the initial frenzy tapered off, Stella lifted her paddle. "500,000 dollars." She'd doubled the current bid in one go. It was a hefty amount. Sure, the bracelet was top-notch, but it wasn't the auction's highlight. The room went quiet after her call; no one countered. "Fantastic! Number 11 lady at 500,000 dollars! "500,000 dollars once! 500,000 dollars twice!" The auctioneer hoisted his gavel, poised to bring it down. "No more bids? Then 500,000 dollars—" "520,000 dollars," A gentle, hesitant voice interrupted. Shanna shrank against Bradly's side, paddle in hand, murmuring timidly to him, "Is this where I put in the amount?" Chapter 3 You're Dirty Stella frowned and raised her bid. "540,000 dollars." But Shanna was right behind her, countering with, "560,000 dollars." How annoyingly precise, each time, she stuck to the bare minimum, slapping on just 20,000 dollars more than Stella's offer. Shanna turned toward her, her voice dripping with plea. "Stella, you've got plenty of jewelry already. Please, let me have this one. I adore it. "I'm not like you, born with money, everything handed to you on a silver platter. You snap your fingers and get whatever you want. If it goes any higher, I really won't be able to keep up." Stella didn't bother looking at her, just quirking her lips in a thin smile. "Isn't Mr. Woodard covering the cost for you? What are you stressing about?" Shanna's face went a shade paler, but she answered in that soft, demure tone, "Even so, Mr. Woodard earns his money the hard way. If I can save him a bit, I ought to." She was the epitome of considerate and caring. After several more back-and-forth bids, the bracelet's price had soared to 700,000 dollars. Stella let out a chilly scoff and was opening her mouth to up the ante when Bradly beat her to it. He said, "Babe, why don't we just let Shanna take this bracelet?" Stella's fingers curled into a tight fist, her nails biting into her palm. She lifted her gaze, any lingering warmth in her eyes turning to ice. "What did you just say?" Bradly let out a resigned sigh, giving her hand a comforting pat as he murmured gently, "Babe, I already told Shanna she'd get a gift tonight, and she's got her heart set on this one. No need to compete with her. "Plus, I've already snagged you a handful of other pieces. Isn't that plenty?" He said it all lightly, teasingly, as if it were nothing more than a harmless quip. Stella shut her eyes, a nameless sourness creeping along her nerves, coiling around her heart until it felt like she couldn't draw a breath. Given Shanna's modest background, 700,000 dollars was way out of her league. She wouldn't even make the guest list here on her own. The only reason she was in that seat, trading bids blow for blow, was Bradly's backing. His pampering had delivered her straight into Stella's path. Stella whispered, "What if I refuse to back down?" She hoisted her paddle once more, her voice echoing through the room. "1 million dollars." A hush blanketed the hall. The auctioneer clearly picked up on the drama, his delivery faltering. "Number eleven at 1 million dollars. Do I hear higher?" Shanna's eyes welled up, on the verge of tears, as she cast a helpless look at Bradly before tacking on another fifty thousand. "1 million 20 thousand dollars." Stella's features hardened to frost, and she was poised to fire back when the manager bustled over, bending close to murmur, "Mrs. Woodard, apologies. We ran a credit verification on your account, and it's frozen. Got another one we can use?" The words slammed into her like a bolt from the blue, ringing in her ears. She snapped her head toward Bradly, but he'd already looked away. An icy numbness spread through her arms and legs. She though,t 'Of course, it has to be him.' Her primary account was linked with his; besides her, only he could authorize a freeze on her cards. Triumph flickered in Shanna's eyes as she added with a pointed edge, "Well, in that case, Mrs. Woodard, maybe it's time to step aside. You've got so much already. Can't you let me have this one little thing?" Up on stage, the auction rolled on, the display frozen on Shanna's latest bid: 1 million 20 thousand dollars. Shanna could hardly hide her glee, chirping sweetly, "Go on, call it!" But the words had barely left her lips when someone announced he would bid for the lot at any costs right in the second-floor VIP suite. After a momentary silence, the room burst into chaos. "He's declared absolute intent!" Even the auctioneer's expression changed. He'd been in the game for over a decade, but this was his first encounter with such a scenario. He hurriedly called out, "Lot number six goes to the gentleman in box 217, regardless of how high the price goes." Anyone up in those second-floor VIP suites was either swimming in money or held serious sway in Ostralver's upper crust. Stella glanced upward toward the source of the voice, catching only a vague outline behind the draped curtains. Even when she couldn't see his face, the man's crossed-legged posture radiated an unspoken dominance that pressed down on the room. The auctioneer slammed his gavel down with finality, proclaiming, "Congratulations to our esteemed guest in box 217 on winning lot number six! You're now upgraded to black gold status!" Across all of Ostralver's elite scene, fewer than a handful had ever hit black gold level at these events. Stella wondered, 'Just who is this mystery man?' Stella loosened her clenched fist slightly, torn between relief that her mother's heirloom hadn't landed in Shanna's clutches and anxiety over reclaiming it from this unknown figure. No matter what, she'd stop at nothing, pay any price, to bring her mother's possession home. She rose to her feet, intent on marching over to box 217 for a chat, when the attendant who'd just ducked inside reappeared, tray in hand with the bracelet. "What's this? The bidder in 217 having second thoughts?" "Auctions don't do take-backs." "Probably short on funds. I called it. No one's done this here before." As the murmurs swirled, the attendant headed straight for Stella, dipping into a courteous bow with a warm smile. She said, "Mrs. Woodard, the gentleman in box 217 requests that I deliver the bracelet to you as a gift. He wishes for you to follow your true path and for all to unfold as it should." The place erupted in gossip once more, with guests shooting glances her way, some envious, others skeptical, many flat-out stunned. "Isn't that Mrs. Woodard? What's her deal with the upstairs guy?" "Likely just buttering up Mr. Woodard." "Nah, I don't buy it. Out of all the goodies tonight, why zero in on those beads for Mrs. Woodard? Sounds like she's got a real connection there." The buzz filtered through, and Bradly's face turned stone-cold. In a tight, edged voice, he demanded, "Stella, what's the story with you and whoever's in box 217?" Stella held his piercing stare and said flatly, "I have no idea who he is." "!" Bradly jumped up, clamping down on her wrist like a vice. Her soft, fair skin reddened almost instantly under the pressure. Stella winced sharply, jerking her arm back on reflex. "Bradly, have you lost your mind? Haven't you stirred up enough drama for one day?" But he barreled on, blind to her fury, his reddened eyes locked on her as if he could swallow her up. "What's really between you two? "Stella, through all our married years, I've bent over backward for you. Anything you desired, I served it up without question. Why would you betray me like this?" In his mind, it was already a done deal: she was entangled in something shady with the man above. If the guy was angling for a favor from him, Bradly would've recognized him right away. People in Ostralver didn't beat around the bush when they needed something from him. They came direct. The jab landed raw and direct. Bradly blinked, frozen for a beat as a flicker of alarm shot through his eyes. Chapter 4 Don't Know You'd Come Bradly said, "I'm sorry, Stella. I didn't mean it like that. I had no right getting jealous over you and some stranger. It's all on me." Bradly's eyes reddened. "But honestly, there's nothing going on between Shanna and me. I just brought her along as a thank-you. Can you let this slide?" Seeing his cue, Shanna ducked her head meekly, her voice catching. "That's right, Mrs. Woodard. I've been bending over backward to keep my distance from Mr. Woodard so you wouldn't get the wrong impression. "I'm not asking for the world, just a decent birthday gift. I didn't grow up with your advantages; you've had everything handed to you and even snagged a catch like Mr. Woodard. Can't I at least pick out something for myself?" "Just a gift, huh?" Stella closed in on her, one step at a time. "Ms. Erickson, I've never given a damn about this 'gift' you're going on about. What gets under my skin is you, a Woodard Group employee, crossing lines you have no business crossing." As they drew closer, Bradly instinctively stepped in front of Shanna, his voice soft and coaxing. "Stella, if it's bugging you this much, I'll transfer her to a branch office once the auction's over. "But for now, cut me some slack. Let Shanna have the bracelet. When we get home, name your price on anything, and it's yours." Shanna bobbed her head in agreement, tears glistening on her lashes as she pleaded, "Stella, I really adore this bracelet. You've got it all already. Why go after the one thing I want? "Or is this just because you hate my guts and can't resist taking shots at me?" "What makes you think I'd ever like you?" Stella let out a cold snort. "This belonged to me from the start. Why the hell would I give it up?" She took the bracelet from the attendant with casual ease, her smile sharp but empty. "Ms. Erickson, know your place." Her refusal to budge finally wore through Bradly's patience, erasing every bit of softness from his face. "Stella, do you have to humiliate me like this in front of everyone? Where does that leave my dignity? "It's just a crappy old bracelet. Am I really worth less to you than some trinket?" He said it with such conviction, as if he'd wiped from his memory the solemn vow he'd made when proposing: that he'd hunt down every single one of her mother's sold-off keepsakes, no matter what. Stella's hand flew up, delivering a resounding slap across his cheek. The sharp crack rang out, pulling shocked stares from every corner of the room. Bradly's head snapped sideways, his face livid as he fixed her with a glare, his words hissing through clenched teeth. "Stella, drop the drama already. Have I pampered you too much these days, turning you into this unreasonable nightmare?" Stella reined in her temper, keeping her tone even. "Bradly, you better not live to regret today." Without another word, she turned and walked out, not sparing a backward glance. As her figure receded, Shanna gently touched the angry red mark on Bradly's cheek, her voice full of worry. "Mr. Woodard, are you okay? "Stella's got no boundaries. How could she hit you with all these people watching?" Bradly swatted her hand aside, his nails digging into his palm as he stared after her retreating path. "I've spoiled her rotten, letting her forget that everything she has comes from me." Shanna peeked at his changing expression, testing the waters. "Mr. Woodard, about the bracelet..." Bradly rubbed his throbbing cheek, pulled a bank card from his pocket, and handed it over. "1.7 million dollars on there. Buy whatever catches your eye." Box 217, Stella rapped on the door, eager to thank the mystery bidder face-to-face. Silence. She caught a server walking by. "Excuse me, any idea where the gentleman from this box headed?" "He slipped out right after nabbing the last item," the server said. Disappointment flashed in her eyes, but Stella pressed on, "Do you know who he was?" The server gave her a regretful smile. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard, we're not allowed to spill on our VIPs. Don't make this harder for us." Catching herself, Stella moved out of the way. "Thanks all the same." By the time she made it home from the auction, an hour had ticked by. Stella went straight up to the study, fired up the computer, and dove into the assets registered under her and Bradly's names. After tallying up the numbers, she snatched her phone, found lawyer Rubin Cobb's contact, and hit dial. She said, "I've sorted out the asset division documents for me and Bradly and sent them over. I need you to handle the property split by tomorrow." Rubin quickly received the files and nodded respectfully. "Of course, Mrs. Woodard. I'll get right on it." Stella stared intently at her computer screen, her grip tightening on the mouse. "If Bradly's committed bigamy, how should our assets be divided?" "Generally, any property the bigamous party gained through the bigamy can be claimed back by the other spouse," Rubin replied matter-of-factly. Half of Bradly's current wealth had come from Stella's investments to support his career early on. Her expression darkened, and she promptly forwarded the marriage license between him and Shanna. "Rubin, please use every legal avenue to recover my half of the assets." After hanging up, Stella slumped back in her chair, utterly drained physically and emotionally. She closed her eyes slowly, but sleep was nowhere in sight. Bradly would never agree to a divorce. Until she had everything locked down, she couldn't let on that anything was amiss. Just then, the study door was kicked open from the outside. Bradly flung his jacket onto the desk and yanked Stella up from her seat in front of the computer. "Do you realize that because of your little outburst, I've become a laughingstock in our circles? "What exactly do you want? Are you still obsessing over what happened back then?" Stella opened her eyes slowly, her gaze settling calmly on Bradly, but she remained silent. A fire raged in Bradly's chest, intensifying by the second, and he couldn't hold back his fury any longer. "Since we got married, have I ever done anything to wrong you? I come home right on time every night after work, I always fill you in on any business dinners, and if there's even a hint of a woman involved, I skip them entirely! I've bent over backward, and it's still not good enough for you?" He remembered every detail crystal clear. In his mind, these were the sacrifices he'd made to marry her. Stella suddenly found the whole thing absurd. She couldn't bear to look at him anymore, so she stood up and walked straight out of the study without a backward glance. Behind her, Bradly's voice echoed heavily. "Stella, no matter what you think, my conscience is clear." It felt like Stella's heart had been shattered into icy fragments, a sharp, bitter pain surging through her. Her mind buzzed, and for a moment, all she could hear was that phrase repeating over and over. She thought, 'My conscience is clear? So, in his eyes, everything he's done is perfectly justifiable.' The next morning, when Stella woke up, Bradly was already gone. On the table sat the breakfast he'd prepared, tailored exactly to her tastes. Stella pressed her lips together, her feelings a complicated tangle. They'd ended things on a sour note last night, yet Bradly had still made her breakfast this morning. But this was the same man who'd lied to her for years. No matter what, it was time to end things with Bradly. She didn't touch the food and headed straight to the office. These past few years, she'd stayed out of Bradly's business dealings. A lot of her old financial records were outdated now, and she needed the latest reports. The secretary looked startled when she saw her, then managed to say, "Mrs. Woodard, are you here to see Mr. Woodard?" "No." Stella replied evenly. "Send the finance manager in to see me." Her shares were second only to Bradly's, giving her full access to every aspect of the company. The secretary hesitated briefly before nodding. Stella noticed her immediately turning to make a phone call, probably alerting Bradly. Stella didn't intervene; let her. She settled into the finance office, sipping her coffee absentmindedly while flipping through magazines on the shelf. Most were glossy entertainment rags, mixed in with novels and comics. Stella frowned, only now picking up on the details: the desk was covered in a pink plaid mat, cluttered with adorable plush toys. The standout pair was a set of couple dolls, their outfits emblazoned with the letters W and E. It hit Stella suddenly what that meant, and just then, the door behind her swung open. Shanna rushed in. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard." She was clutching a cup of coffee as she apologized. "I had no idea you'd drop by like this..." Chapter 5 All For Milford Stella arched an eyebrow as she looked her over. "So you're the finance manager?" Shanna nodded with a quick smile. "That's me. If you need anything at all, just say the word. Bradly, well, Mr. Woodard is tied up in a meeting right now. But don't worry, I'll make sure to relay whatever message you have." Stella let out a soft laugh. "No need for that." She regarded Shanna with clear curiosity. "I'm not looking for Bradly. I'm here to see you." Shanna's smile faltered for a moment before she recovered, her tone turning gentle. "Mrs. Woodard, I get that you're still bothered by what went down at the auction last night, but there's no reason to be so worked up about my connection to Mr. Woodard. After all..." She raised her hand, the elegant diamond ring on her finger glinting under the light, perfectly complementing her bashful grin. "I'm already married, and things are great between me and my husband." Stella's eyes locked on the ring, her breath hitching just for an instant. It was ridiculous. In this whole messed-up situation, she was the one playing the role of the mistress. The ring was an exact match for the one Bradly had given her during his proposal. But within seconds, Stella averted her gaze. "It's a lovely ring, but you're mistaken." She spoke unhurriedly, "I'm just here to grab the latest financial report from you. That's all." Stella caught the sour shift in Shanna's expression and smiled to herself. "Seems like you're the one on edge here, Ms. Erickson." Shanna's face transformed completely, that smug spark in her eyes snuffed out. She bit her lip, unable to find words for a long beat. Stella watched her with unruffled poise. "Do I need to repeat my request, Ms. Erickson?" The words had barely left her mouth when Bradly burst in, his expression clouding over at the sight. "Stella, wasn't the scene from last night enough?" His voice was laced with ice. "How long are you planning to drag this out? I've told you already. There's nothing going on between me and Shanna. If you don't believe me..." Stella interrupted him mid-sentence, "Oh, I believe you. Absolutely." A faint smirk tugged at her lips, though her eyes remained frosty as they settled on Shanna. "After all, Ms. Erickson's already married. She just mentioned it herself." The statement landed like a bomb. Shanna's face drained of color, and Bradly's followed suit. He shot her a withering glare. Tears sprang to Shanna's eyes in an instant. Stella had no interest in watching the drama unfold any further. She said evenly, "I'm here for this year's financials. I hold forty percent of the company. Surely I can access that, right?" Bradly seemed to snap back to reality, nodding hastily. "Of course you can." He barked orders at the secretary to fetch it immediately, all the while stealing wary glances at her face. Once he confirmed she wasn't giving anything away, he exhaled almost imperceptibly in relief. He said, "Stella, what's with the sudden interest? You've never bothered with company matters before." Stella answered coolly, "After the account freeze last night, I decided it's smarter to set up a separate one." Bradly's expression froze again. "Stella..." The secretary returned promptly with the report. Stella brushed Bradly aside, skimmed through it quickly, and was heading for the door when he caught her by the wrist. He said, "Stella, about the family dinner tonight, are you coming home with me?" His tone was pleading, like he needed her answer to reassure himself that she hadn't caught on to anything fishy. Stella didn't look back, just replying calmly, "Sure." Bradly's face lit up. "Great, I'll swing by after work to pick you up." Stella dropped her gaze, masking the cool detachment in her eyes. She'd only agreed to head back to the family estate for one specific reason. The marriage license from when she and Bradly had tied the knot was a phony, but he'd made a whole production out of stashing it away at the house, claiming it had to be kept secure. Nothing could serve as stronger proof. Once she got her hands on it, his bigamy would be ironclad. Stella didn't bother waiting for Bradly; she hailed a cab and got there ahead of time. She'd figured it was just a standard family gathering, but she was caught off guard by the full turnout. Bradly's parents, fresh from their overseas vacation last week, were back, and even the distant relatives from the Woodard family's side branches had shown up en masse. "Stella, dear." As she walked in, Nadine Woodard peered over her shoulder. "Bradly didn't come with you?" Stella answered evenly, "He'll be along shortly." Nadine clicked her tongue, her irritation obvious. "On an important occasion like this, letting someone from outside the family arrive solo, what's got into him?" Stella's brow furrowed just a touch. She and Bradly had been engaged since childhood, but after her mother's passing, the Daniels family's status had tanked while the Woodard family kept climbing. That was when Nadine started pushing to scrap the arrangement, and she'd mentioned it more than a few times. But Chuck Woodard was upright and principled, flat-out refusing to play the social-climbing game. With Bradly dead set on marrying her and no one else, Nadine had reluctantly given in, though she made her resentment clear. Even after the marriage, she never passed up an opportunity to give Stella the cold shoulder. She was about to add something else when the butler rushed in and murmured, "He's here." Nadine promptly dropped the subject with Stella and jumped to her feet, the extended family hustling out right behind her to welcome the arrivals. The level of pomp surprised Stella. The Woodard family was already at the top of Ostralver's social elite. For them to pull out all the stops like this... Standing at the edge of the group, Stella glanced up and saw a black Maybach rolling up to the front of the estate. Someone hurried forward to open the door respectfully, and a tall, imposing figure stepped out unhurriedly. The man wore a sleek black suit, his chiseled features sharp, eyes as midnight, radiating a fierce intensity. Every gesture exuded a natural poise and authority that made it tough to hold his stare. The crowd swarmed forward in a rush, but he stayed cool and detached the whole time, his stunningly handsome face as impassive as carved ice, showing zero emotion. Then, as if picking up on something, he looked up toward Stella. Their eyes locked unexpectedly, sending her heart pounding. It was Milford Woodard, Bradly's brother. He'd returned to the country. Though they were brothers in name, Milford wasn't all that tight with the family. He'd headed overseas young and had spent years growing the business abroad. His father Edward Woodard was a total lightweight, good only at spending cash, not earning it. His grandpa Chuck had the smarts and drive, but age was catching up, leaving him unable to manage it all. Real power over the Woodard family had shifted to Milford ages ago. Stella let out a quiet breath. She thought, 'That explains the big crowd today. They've all turned out for Milford.' Chapter 6 Need Help? Stella lingered in the corner of the living room, watching the relatives descend like a swarm of locusts, all scrambling to surround Milford. Bradly stood next to Nadine, flashing a polished smile as he greeted, "Hey, Milford." The uncles who'd been buttering up Bradly just a minute ago quickly switched gears, beaming with over-the-top enthusiasm as they stepped up to say hello. "Milford, what prompted the sudden return?" "Milford, I hear you're in the middle of acquiring a domestic company? You're just getting more impressive by the day." "Come on inside, take a seat. We've got some top-shelf coffee." Bradly caught the stark contrast in the uncles' warmth, his smile fading briefly before he pulled it together and led the way forward. Stella quietly eyed the tall, strikingly handsome Milford striding into the living room like the star of the show, instinctively edging back a step. Now fully pushed to the fringes of the crowd, she shifted aside to let the trailing group pass, doing everything she could to blend into the wallpaper. Milford approached steadily. Unlike Bradly's flashy, outgoing vibe, he had a more brooding, aloof kind of handsomeness, like a pine tree blanketed in snow, regal and intimidating. He acknowledged the flattery around him with simple nods, his eyes scanning the room casually, subtly taking stock of everyone there. Until his gaze swept over Stella again, and he came to an abrupt halt. He paused, causing Bradly to stop too. "Something wrong, Milford?" Milford didn't respond, his steady gaze fixed on Stella. It was only a look, but it jolted her to her core. She felt an odd sense of being claimed, uninvited. Yet she'd barely crossed paths with Milford before. Bradly and the others traced his stare, his eyebrow quirking up. "Stella, come say hi to Big Milford." Stella started to step forward, but Milford beat her to it, walking straight toward her. Bradly and the rest exchanged surprised glances. So far, everyone had been approaching Milford. He hadn't initiated with a soul. Milford's deep eyes gave nothing away. "Stella?" Her breath hitched, like a faint breeze had brushed her ear. She hadn't anticipated him coming over to chat. It had been years, and they'd only met once or twice, but he still remembered her. Stella nodded. "Milford, it's been ages—" Before she could finish, Milford held out his hand. The move was so casual, so natural. Out of pure reflex and politeness, Stella extended hers, their palms connecting. In that brief clasp, she felt him squeeze gently, his thumb settling on her fingers and grazing them with a warm intensity. Milford released after just a second. Suddenly, Bradly sidled up, drawing Stella into his side with an arm around her waist, lacing his fingers through her left hand. He said, "Milford, how long are you in town this time? Stella and I can take you out to dinner one of these days." Milford took in their cozy pose, his glance dropping to their intertwined hands. "About a month." The words had barely left his mouth when Chuck came down the stairs, leaning on the butler for support. Milford headed over to talk with him. Not long after, the kitchen called that the party was ready. Stella trailed Bradly to their seats on the left side of the main table. Everyone filed in and sat. As the eldest branch, the two Woodard brothers took priority. Chuck claimed the head of the main table, with Nadine and Milford next in line. Stella and Bradly fell further down the order, landing her right across from Milford on the diagonal. The family feast got underway, with everyone firing questions at Milford about what he'd been up to lately. Stella kept her head down, nibbling at her food while catching bits of the conversation. Zrester bigwig, major stakeholder in Wonder Group, founder of that financial exchange and the smart transportation AI... Milford's credentials were endless and mind-blowing. She thought back to that Zrester party invite list she'd snagged years ago. Milford was third from the top, while she languished at the bottom. In all these years, she'd had next to no interaction with him. Right after the wedding, this mysterious Milford had only shown up once. He dropped off a gift and vanished. In just a handful of years, Milford had climbed to the pinnacle of Zrester's power players. His talent was obvious. Before long, the family party wound down, and folks scattered to grab desserts. Still hung up on that marriage license, Stella excused herself to head upstairs for a coat change. Bradly was itching to chat with Milford, his gaze fixed that way as he muttered distractedly, "Yeah, go on up." Stella wasted no time hustling upstairs. With the crowd milling about downstairs, she slipped to the third floor of the villa and nudged open Bradly's bedroom door. There it was: the glaring marriage license perched right on top of the nightstand, framed, flanked by their wedding portrait. As she stepped closer, memories of Bradly's cozy moments with Shanna flooded her brain, her nails digging slowly into her palm. That license seared her eyes, like it was sneering at her gullibility. She never should've caved, never should've handed Bradly a second shot. It just went to show that people's hearts circled back for seconds. Disgust flickered in her eyes as she hauled the desk's computer chair over, the kind with wheels and a swivel, shaky at best. She climbed onto it, planting one foot on the bed for stability, teetering just enough to hold steady. Stella hiked up her pearl-white knee-length dress a bit and stretched upward slowly. Fingers extended to the max, but she was still a couple inches shy. She rose onto her tiptoes, straining, but no dice. Frowning from her perch, she scanned around and snagged a book from beside the cabinet. As she leaned down, footsteps suddenly echoed outside the door. Fast, but measured. A man's, for sure. Her pulse spiked. She clutched the table, scrambling to hop down, but, perfect timing, her other sleeve caught on the cabinet's edge. She tugged frantically to break free, but it was too late to descend. The door flew open out of nowhere. Stella went rigid, her knees giving way as she toppled backward off the chair. A quick yelp escaped her, but the expected crash never hit. A firm hand latched precisely onto her thigh, another banding around her waist, hauling her into a solid hold and planting her feet firmly on the floor. She slammed into a warm, toned chest, a crisp, grounding sandalwood aroma enveloping her, not Bradly's scent. Stella glanced up, nearly clipping the guy's chin. Milford let go right away, backing off a step to give her space. Her cheeks burned, the thigh he'd gripped feeling like it was on fire. Mortified and frozen, she stammered, "Th-thanks." Milford stayed composed, his eyes skimming her flushed face and the pinkened patch of skin on her thigh from his hold. His Adam's apple dipped subtly. "Didn't realize you were in here. My bad." Stella shook her head, even more flustered. She was the one imposing on him. Milford flicked a glance upward. "Need some help?" She looked too. Up top, the marriage license screamed for attention. Chapter 7 Don't Let Me Hate You Stella just came out with it. "I want to get the marriage license down." Milford hesitated for a beat, without probing why she needed it, and slid the chair out of the way. Tall and long-limbed, he barely had to tip up on his toes to snag it effortlessly. Milford skimmed the lettering on the license, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes before the faintest quirk tugged at his lips, almost undetectable. He passed it over to Stella. "Ah, I see." She missed the words, taking it with a soft murmur: "Thanks, Milford." Her palms were slick with sweat now, but holding the certificate still sent an icy shiver through her. Those bold letters were a brutal reminder. This whole marriage had been one big joke. From beginning to end, Bradly's grand performance of undying love had always had a third wheel in the shadows. Milford dropped his gaze. Towering over her, all he could make out was the neat swirl at the top of her head, round and oddly appealing. Those slim, pale hands gripped the certificate like a vise, completely bloodless. Milford asked offhandedly, "So, what's the marriage license for?" "Oh, I just want to bring it home and store it there," Stella shot back, pulling an excuse out of thin air. Milford's stare felt like it enveloped her, the heat of it almost scorching, though he kept his hands to himself. Then he casually adjusted his cufflinks and turned to go. Stella let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, sagging against the cool cabinet. Her thigh still tingled with warmth from his grip; she quickly smoothed her skirt down, tucked the license into her bag, and only left the room once everything looked undisturbed. Bradly was still out in the back garden, deep in conversation. Stella kept her face neutral, strolling over to stand at his side. A few relatives were chatting with him. "Hey, word is Milford actually got back a couple days ago, but only tipped us off today." Bradly looked taken aback. "I thought he was flying in today?" "Nope, sounds like he hit up some auction. I only heard bits and pieces, supposedly the other night at the Empire Auction House." "He must not have gone. I was there that evening too, and I didn't see him anywhere," Bradly said, frowning in confusion. Stella's eyelashes flickered subtly, but she played it cool. Out of nowhere, her mind jumped back to that enigmatic bidder in suite 217. She wondered, 'Could Milford be the mystery guest who got the bracelet for me?' She shoved the thought down as soon as it surfaced. They'd only crossed paths once, total strangers really, connected by the flimsiest in-law tie. No matter how you sliced it, Milford wouldn't stick his neck out for her. Just like Bradly said, he hadn't caught wind of anything, so it couldn't be Milford. Stella let it go. After some more mingling, the group started to break up. Bradly steered her over to bid farewell to Milford. "Mom, Milford, we're taking off. Let's set up a family dinner soon when things settle." Milford slouched back in his chair with effortless nonchalance and gave a nod. "I'm knee-deep in an acquisition, no hurry on the get-together. But you..." He lifted his head, his expression sharpening. "Keep your life on the straight and narrow. Don't veer off track." The edge of warning in his voice was crystal clear. Bradly had grown up overshadowed by Milford; he went rigid but brushed it off casually. "Come on, everything's good. My company's running smooth as ever. If you're skeptical, drop by anytime and pore over the financials—knock yourself out." "It's not just about the company," Milford said softly, eyes down as he savored a sip of coffee. Stella couldn't help stealing a glance at him, and in that instant, a ridiculous idea struck her. From what Bradly had mentioned, Milford was abroad most of the time but still had the inside scoop on everything back home. She wondered, 'Does he know about the shady stuff Bradly is up to on the sly?' "Milford, I hear you. I'll make sure to nurture my marriage with Stella, our whole life together." Bradly grinned, threading his fingers through Stella's. Milford's gaze lingered on their joined hands for a second before drifting away, sealed with a subtle nod. Stella had no desire for any more close contact with Bradly, so she subtly shook his hand free without thinking. A split second later, his disbelieving stare locked onto her face, and he tried to grab her again. She'd known her move would humiliate him in the moment, so she didn't bother saying goodbye to Milford. She just turned and walked out ahead. Once they slid into the car, Bradly shed his polite, deferential mask from earlier, reverting to his entitled rich-kid swagger. He tugged his tie loose, a flicker of annoyance pinching his brows. "Always playing the big-brother card to chew me out, same crap since we were little. "So what if he's crushing it overseas? I'm holding my own just fine back home. Who in Ostralver would even think about messing with me?" Bradly fished out a menthol cigarette on autopilot, ready to light up, but he caught himself after glancing at Stella and shoved it back. He said, "All these years, folks have been whispering, or saying it straight to my face, that my company's thriving because of his pull. Like he's behind every damn thing. "And you? You flat-out refused to let me hold your hand back there. Trying to make me look like an idiot in front of him?" His expression iced over, the edge in his voice impossible to miss. Stella's frown deepened as she took it in. Even without knowing Milford all that well, she understood that Bradly's cocky antics in Ostralver, brushing people off like they were nothing, had always been propped up by Milford's clout. She'd assumed the brothers were tight, but clearly Bradly's respect was just for show; underneath, his grudge against Milford simmered deep. She could overlook a lot, but with things the way they were now, there was zero point in him putting on that phony hand-holding act. Stella gripped her bag, the one with the marriage license inside, and couldn't bite her tongue. "We haven't held hands in forever. It feels off to me." The car went dead quiet. She was right. Their physical closeness had dwindled so much that even she couldn't pinpoint the last time. Bradly's brow creased, and he snapped the cigarette filter clean off between his fingers. "What was that?" Stella met his eyes steadily. "From here on out, let's skip the pointless touchy-feely stuff. It just doesn't sit right." She hadn't even finished when the brakes screeched harshly. The car lurched to a halt on the empty shoulder of the road. Stella almost smacked into the window from the force, her pulse hammering as she barked, "Are you out of your mind?" Bradly loomed over her, fingers digging into her chin, irritation boiling in his glare. "Stella, do you have any idea what you're saying?" The pinch stung like crazy, and the absurdity of it all hit her as she wrestled to shove him off. "Is it not true? When's the last time we even held hands. Can you remember?" Bradly's gaze turned stormy, like she'd struck a raw spot. "I bet you're hung up on Milford, just like that girl from the second branch. That's why you pulled away in front of him. You're trying to cut ties with me?" "Bradly! What the hell are you babbling about?" Anger surged through her as she pushed harder. "Don't you dare pin your gross history on me!" The way the family had orbited Milford like he was the sun had obviously gotten under his skin. The more she resisted, the darker his look grew. Abruptly, he leaned in and smashed his mouth against hers. Stella's eyes flew wide, her head whipping aside to evade as she hammered at his shoulders with everything she had. He'd locked lips with Shanna god knows how often. The thought turned her stomach, so she clamped down and bit him hard. Bradly yelped in pain, jerking back as the fog cleared and he clocked what he'd just done, regret flashing across his face. Blood dotted his lip, but he brushed it off, lunging to wrap her in his arms. "I'm sorry, Stella, baby, I'm so sorry. I screwed up; it was a stupid impulse..." Drained of energy, Stella sagged into the passenger seat, letting him hold her while a barren wave of emptiness and revulsion washed over her. The hug she'd once melted into now repulsed her to her core. "Get off me." Her voice came out rough and scratchy. "Bradly, don't push me to hating you."
Chapter 1 Don't Want Him Anymore "I'm sorry, ma'am." On the other end of the line, the insurance customer service rep said coolly, "After checking our records, the car owner, Mr. Woodard, is indeed married, but the spouse listed here isn't you." Stella Daniels had gotten into a car accident on her way to the Woodard Group headquarters. She couldn't get through to Bradly Woodard on his phone, so she had no choice but to call the insurance company. The car was registered in Bradly's name, but as his wife, she should be able to process the claim too. "When Mr. Woodard picked up the car, he came with his wife and provided the original marriage license. Her last name is Erickson, and her full name is Shanna Erickson," the rep said. It hit Stella like a slap in the face. Dizziness washed over her in waves, leaving her whole body shaking uncontrollably. She and Bradly had been childhood sweethearts. Their families were old friends, and everyone in Ostralver's high society knew how clingy he was with her. Bradly couldn't stand being apart from her even for a single day. Three years ago, when Stella headed abroad for her studies, Bradly had the plane stopped just for her. During her three years in Ensland, he expanded his business overseas to make it easier to look after her. Sixteen thousand miles apart, he'd still fly across the ocean every week to see her. The year she came down with a severe lung illness and nearly didn't pull through, she spent a week in intensive care. Bradly ignored the infection risks and stayed right by her side, sliding a ring onto her finger. He said, "If anything happens to you, I'll go with you. We'll be husband and wife in the next life too." For Bradly's sake, she turned down her mentor's offer to stay on in the lab and headed back home. Brimming with excitement, she went to find him, planning to surprise him. But when she pushed open the door to the CEO's office, she saw a slender, pretty woman straddling his lap. The woman's innocent face tilted upward, her voice whiny and aggrieved. "Mr. Woodard, what happens to me now that Stella is back?" Bradly sat in his executive chair, his tall frame looming over her. A flash of ruthlessness crossed his stern features. "You? You're just her stand-in. Don't forget your place." He lifted his hand, pinching her delicate chin with a sneer. "Barely a three-out-of-ten resemblance, and you think you can compare to her?" Stella was still clutching the gift she'd prepared for him. With a loud "bang," it dropped to the floor, finally breaking the scene in the office. Bradly's face drained of color as he shoved the woman off and jumped to his feet. That woman was Shanna. After Stella caught them in the act, Bradly fired Shanna on the spot and pulled out all the stops to win her back. Bradly, the arrogant prince of Ostralver's elite circles, humbled himself to the dust before her, begging her to give him another chance. Any project she set her sights on, he'd drop without a second thought. He stood in the pouring rain outside her building for over a week, just for a glimpse of her. He said, "Stella, I'm not asking you to forgive me. At least let me explain. "I only ever saw Shanna as your replacement. You've been gone abroad for so long; I missed you terribly. I swear, I just kept her around. Nothing more ever happened between us. "That time you walked in, I'd had too much to drink, and she deliberately tempted me. I lost control for a moment... "I've already let her go, and she won't show up in our lives again. Stella, please, come back to me." Back then, Stella couldn't stand even the slightest betrayal. She insisted on breaking off the engagement. Until that one incident. She was kidnapped by a business rival. The kidnappers reneged on the deal, tied her up in an abandoned factory, and set the place ablaze. Bradly charged into the flames without a second thought to rescue her, shielding her from a collapsing steel beam. He ended up gravely injured, confined to bed for nearly six months. By risking his life, Bradly finally melted her resolve. Once he was out of the hospital, she accepted his proposal, and they threw a lavish wedding. In the two years since they tied the knot, he'd treated her just as devotedly as ever, with zero scandals. He even imposed a strict curfew on himself, heading home right on time every day. Even on out-of-town business trips, he'd video call her constantly. His partners would tease him about being henpecked. He never denied it. Instead, he'd grin proudly and say, "A real man takes care of his family." Memories rushed through Stella's mind like a whirlwind, every past moment flashing by in a blur. Her legs buckled, and she dropped to her knees, burying her face in her hands. She couldn't figure out which Bradly was the real one anymore. A bitter, mocking gleam sparked in her eyes. She thought, 'How absurd.' She'd been his wife for two years, and only now was she learning that even their marriage license had been a sham. Stella scrubbed her face hard, her bangs already soaked with cold sweat. She ignored the other driver's furious yelling and calmly dialed the police. They showed up fast. After finishing her statement, Stella left the station under a sky that had gone completely dark. Her phone lit up with several missed calls from Bradly. When she hadn't answered, he'd sent texts instead. Bradly: [Babe, I was tied up in a key meeting this afternoon. Signal jammers were on, so I missed your call. You okay?] Bradly: [I've got a client dinner tonight, so I'll be late getting home. I double-checked: no women involved, so no need to worry.] Bradly: [Head to bed early. Don't wait up. Love you.] Stella stared at the screen, a sharp wave of irony twisting in her gut. Bradly didn't stagger in until the wee hours. He reeked of alcohol, which almost, but not quite, masked the subtle whiff of perfume on him. "Honey..." He could barely keep his balance, stumbling over to wrap his arms around her through the blanket. "I missed you so damn much..." Stella didn't say a word. Only once he was dead to the world did she sit up quietly and unlock his phone with his fingerprint. The thing was squeaky clean, no suspicious traces at all. His contacts were mostly buddies and business folks, with hers pinned at the top as "Darling Wife." Flawlessly tidy, just like their sham of a marriage. Stella hooked the phone up to her computer, and it didn't take long to uncover his second WhatsApp account. She signed in, and right away, messages popped up from a profile with a cute pink kitten avatar, labeled "Baby." Shanna: [Bradly, thanks for tonight. Without you, I wouldn't have known what to do.] Shanna: [I've always thought meeting you was the luckiest thing that's ever happened to me. I won't intrude on your life. As long as you swing by to see me once in a while, that's enough to make me happy.] Stella scrolled back through the history. She'd suspected as much, but seeing it all laid out still hit her like a punch to the chest, leaving her breathless. They chatted nearly every day. Shanna never missed a good morning message, and Bradly's replies had shifted over time, from total silence at first, to sporadic responses, and now to answering every single one. A chill spread through her. Stella clutched the phone tighter, knowing she should quit while she was ahead but unable to stop herself from digging deeper. Shanna: [Bradly, sorry, I had a few drinks and lost it for a bit. Doc says I'm okay now, so don't stress.] Shanna: [Mrs. Woodard's birthday bash is important. Go enjoy it with her. I'll be fine.] Stella squeezed her eyes shut as the memory came rushing back. Her birthday. Bradly had spent over a month planning it down to the last detail, but that day, he was totally distracted. Hell, he almost cut his own hand while slicing the cake. When she'd asked what was up, he'd brushed it off as work drama, told her not to worry, then pulled her into a soft embrace and encouraged her to blow out the candles and make a wish. It all made sense now, as she stared at this chat log. That same day, Shanna had tried to kill herself by slashing her wrists and ended up in the ER. A sour bitterness flooded her chest like a rising tide. In those brief seconds when she'd closed her eyes to wish, she wondered, 'Was he agonizing over Shanna in the hospital, or picturing endless years together with her?' Stella knew she didn't need an answer to that anymore. She gently placed the phone back and looked down at Bradly, fast asleep beside her. She'd known him since she was four, and for the twenty years that followed, she'd truly believed his love was hers alone, irreplaceable. But now she saw it for what it was: just cheap free samples at a store, handed out to anyone who walked by. If that was all it amounted to, she was done with it. Chapter 2 Bid Against Her The next day, Stella woke to find Bradly busy in the kitchen, his broad shoulders narrowing to a slim waist, his tall, lean build moving with purpose. The sight hit her hard, a dull ache tightening in her chest. Bradly had learned to cook entirely for her sake. She still remembered that turbulent period when the Woodard Group was in crisis. His rivals had targeted her, paying off a servant to poison her food. She'd been unconscious for three full days. When she finally woke, Bradly was there, his eyes red-rimmed and veined with exhaustion, gripping her hand like a lifeline. The instant she stirred, the imposing Bradly crumbled forward, enveloping her in a hug as scalding tears fell onto her skin. From then on, Bradly threw himself into cooking lessons, taking charge of all her meals. In less than a month, he'd gone from a spoiled elite who couldn't distinguish spices to turning out dishes worthy of a Michelin chef. Just then, his phone rang. Stella glanced at it but made no move to answer. Bradly darted out of the kitchen, apron still on, grabbing the phone with a barely concealed flash of anxiety. Stella pretended not to notice and went to wash up. When she came back, the table was set with breakfast, and he was slipping into his suit jacket from the coat rack. Seeing her, he said gently, "There's an emergency at work. I have to run. Sorry I can't join you for breakfast." Stella murmured, "Sure, work comes first." He was clearly in a hurry, because he didn't pick up on the new edge of cool distance in her tone and rushed out. She stared blankly after him until he was gone, then dumped the entire spread into the trash. Then she picked up her phone and dialed a number. "That offer you made before? I'm on board." The person on the other end erupted in delight, chattering away before shifting to broken Andosa Language. "Stella, why the sudden change of heart? I've bugged you about this so many times, and you always said you were married now and focusing on family." A mocking glint flickered in Stella's eyes. She thought, 'Married? This so-called marriage has been dead on arrival.' The caller was her former mentor from her overseas studies. He'd reached out lately, hoping she'd join his new team and spearhead a major project. At the time, she'd kept saying no out of loyalty to Bradly. Now, she only wished she'd seen through the absurd joke of their marriage earlier. After the call, she contacted immigration to schedule a passport renewal. It would take about a week. But before heading out, she had one loose end to tie up. That evening, Stella showed up at a private auction at the Cloud Hotel. She was after one of her mother's keepsakes. Her mom had died when she was eight, and soon after, the Daniels family had liquidated her wedding gift. Stella had been hunting down the items ever since. Over the years, she'd only reclaimed a few. Tonight's auction featured a bracelet from that collection, one her mother had picked up on a trip to Ijance. It was utterly unique, irreplaceable. Whatever it took, she was getting it back. Stella settled into her seat just as the auction was about to start. She was flipping through the catalog when Bradly's voice floated over. "Didn't I already pick out that royal blue sapphire set for you? Not good enough?" His voice carried that familiar tenderness. Shanna linked her arm with his, pouting playfully. "Your taste sucks! I want to pick my own birthday gift." Stella watched them quietly until Bradly threaded through the guests and their gazes collided by chance. The color drained from his face. On pure reflex, he jerked his arm away from Shanna. "Stella." He strode over quickly. "I tried calling you a few times, but you didn't answer. Were you planning to surprise me?" Even though he tried to play it cool, she could still catch that subtle hint of panic in his expression. Stella didn't bother calling him on it, replying evenly, "My phone was on silent. I didn't hear it." Bradly visibly relaxed, casually taking her hand in his with a look of concern. "Your hands are like ice. Didn't I warn you about the cold snap today? You're always putting style over staying warm. If you catch a chill, you know it'll just kill me." As he talked, he signaled a server for a blanket and draped it snugly around her shoulders. Stella kept a straight face, brushing him off as she looked past him to Shanna, who lingered behind with a scowl. Shanna nibbled her lip, then defiantly dropped into the seat next to Bradly, her gaze simmering with irritation. Bradly leaned closer, dropping his voice to explain, "We just wrapped up a major project at the company, and Shanna pulled her weight big time. Her birthday's around the corner, so I thought I'd treat her to something as a project bonus." He eyed her anxiously. "Stella, you're not mad, right?" Shanna piped up in a soft, vulnerable tone. "Mrs. Woodard, if this upsets you, I'll just go. I don't want to get in the way of you and Mr. Woodard." Stella's mouth quirked into a smile that never touched her eyes. "We're married. A little thing like this? Of course it doesn't bother me." The auction got underway shortly after. Bradly treated Shanna like she was invisible, focusing entirely on Stella. He paged through the catalog, throwing in bids left and right. "Babe, this would look amazing on you." He grinned, tenderly brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his tone warm and intimate. "You'd be gorgeous in it." Stella averted her eyes, but out of the corner of her vision, she saw Shanna discreetly clutching the edge of Bradly's jacket in the dim light. Their gazes locked for a split second in a shared, lingering look. She masked the derision in her own eyes, struck by how absurd it all was. Bradly seemed totally at ease juggling both women, convinced he was keeping things balanced, one with the official status, the other with his undivided public attention. She thought, 'What could be fairer than that?' But Stella had never been interested in that kind of equilibrium. Her world extended far beyond romance. Bradly? He was just a small detour on her path, a misstep she'd own up to. And now, it was time to set things right. "Next up: a string of bracelet. Fine-grained texture, deep aroma that lingers. Starting bid at 170,000 dollars, with increments of at least 20,000 dollars!" The auctioneer's pumped-up voice echoed through the room. Finally, Stella's main target for the evening. Bids flew in fast, the screen flickering with updates as the auctioneer called out, "Number 17 lady at 200,000 dollars! Number 9 gentleman ups it to 260,000 dollars! Going higher?" Once the initial frenzy tapered off, Stella lifted her paddle. "500,000 dollars." She'd doubled the current bid in one go. It was a hefty amount. Sure, the bracelet was top-notch, but it wasn't the auction's highlight. The room went quiet after her call; no one countered. "Fantastic! Number 11 lady at 500,000 dollars! "500,000 dollars once! 500,000 dollars twice!" The auctioneer hoisted his gavel, poised to bring it down. "No more bids? Then 500,000 dollars—" "520,000 dollars," A gentle, hesitant voice interrupted. Shanna shrank against Bradly's side, paddle in hand, murmuring timidly to him, "Is this where I put in the amount?" Chapter 3 You're Dirty Stella frowned and raised her bid. "540,000 dollars." But Shanna was right behind her, countering with, "560,000 dollars." How annoyingly precise, each time, she stuck to the bare minimum, slapping on just 20,000 dollars more than Stella's offer. Shanna turned toward her, her voice dripping with plea. "Stella, you've got plenty of jewelry already. Please, let me have this one. I adore it. "I'm not like you, born with money, everything handed to you on a silver platter. You snap your fingers and get whatever you want. If it goes any higher, I really won't be able to keep up." Stella didn't bother looking at her, just quirking her lips in a thin smile. "Isn't Mr. Woodard covering the cost for you? What are you stressing about?" Shanna's face went a shade paler, but she answered in that soft, demure tone, "Even so, Mr. Woodard earns his money the hard way. If I can save him a bit, I ought to." She was the epitome of considerate and caring. After several more back-and-forth bids, the bracelet's price had soared to 700,000 dollars. Stella let out a chilly scoff and was opening her mouth to up the ante when Bradly beat her to it. He said, "Babe, why don't we just let Shanna take this bracelet?" Stella's fingers curled into a tight fist, her nails biting into her palm. She lifted her gaze, any lingering warmth in her eyes turning to ice. "What did you just say?" Bradly let out a resigned sigh, giving her hand a comforting pat as he murmured gently, "Babe, I already told Shanna she'd get a gift tonight, and she's got her heart set on this one. No need to compete with her. "Plus, I've already snagged you a handful of other pieces. Isn't that plenty?" He said it all lightly, teasingly, as if it were nothing more than a harmless quip. Stella shut her eyes, a nameless sourness creeping along her nerves, coiling around her heart until it felt like she couldn't draw a breath. Given Shanna's modest background, 700,000 dollars was way out of her league. She wouldn't even make the guest list here on her own. The only reason she was in that seat, trading bids blow for blow, was Bradly's backing. His pampering had delivered her straight into Stella's path. Stella whispered, "What if I refuse to back down?" She hoisted her paddle once more, her voice echoing through the room. "1 million dollars." A hush blanketed the hall. The auctioneer clearly picked up on the drama, his delivery faltering. "Number eleven at 1 million dollars. Do I hear higher?" Shanna's eyes welled up, on the verge of tears, as she cast a helpless look at Bradly before tacking on another fifty thousand. "1 million 20 thousand dollars." Stella's features hardened to frost, and she was poised to fire back when the manager bustled over, bending close to murmur, "Mrs. Woodard, apologies. We ran a credit verification on your account, and it's frozen. Got another one we can use?" The words slammed into her like a bolt from the blue, ringing in her ears. She snapped her head toward Bradly, but he'd already looked away. An icy numbness spread through her arms and legs. She though,t 'Of course, it has to be him.' Her primary account was linked with his; besides her, only he could authorize a freeze on her cards. Triumph flickered in Shanna's eyes as she added with a pointed edge, "Well, in that case, Mrs. Woodard, maybe it's time to step aside. You've got so much already. Can't you let me have this one little thing?" Up on stage, the auction rolled on, the display frozen on Shanna's latest bid: 1 million 20 thousand dollars. Shanna could hardly hide her glee, chirping sweetly, "Go on, call it!" But the words had barely left her lips when someone announced he would bid for the lot at any costs right in the second-floor VIP suite. After a momentary silence, the room burst into chaos. "He's declared absolute intent!" Even the auctioneer's expression changed. He'd been in the game for over a decade, but this was his first encounter with such a scenario. He hurriedly called out, "Lot number six goes to the gentleman in box 217, regardless of how high the price goes." Anyone up in those second-floor VIP suites was either swimming in money or held serious sway in Ostralver's upper crust. Stella glanced upward toward the source of the voice, catching only a vague outline behind the draped curtains. Even when she couldn't see his face, the man's crossed-legged posture radiated an unspoken dominance that pressed down on the room. The auctioneer slammed his gavel down with finality, proclaiming, "Congratulations to our esteemed guest in box 217 on winning lot number six! You're now upgraded to black gold status!" Across all of Ostralver's elite scene, fewer than a handful had ever hit black gold level at these events. Stella wondered, 'Just who is this mystery man?' Stella loosened her clenched fist slightly, torn between relief that her mother's heirloom hadn't landed in Shanna's clutches and anxiety over reclaiming it from this unknown figure. No matter what, she'd stop at nothing, pay any price, to bring her mother's possession home. She rose to her feet, intent on marching over to box 217 for a chat, when the attendant who'd just ducked inside reappeared, tray in hand with the bracelet. "What's this? The bidder in 217 having second thoughts?" "Auctions don't do take-backs." "Probably short on funds. I called it. No one's done this here before." As the murmurs swirled, the attendant headed straight for Stella, dipping into a courteous bow with a warm smile. She said, "Mrs. Woodard, the gentleman in box 217 requests that I deliver the bracelet to you as a gift. He wishes for you to follow your true path and for all to unfold as it should." The place erupted in gossip once more, with guests shooting glances her way, some envious, others skeptical, many flat-out stunned. "Isn't that Mrs. Woodard? What's her deal with the upstairs guy?" "Likely just buttering up Mr. Woodard." "Nah, I don't buy it. Out of all the goodies tonight, why zero in on those beads for Mrs. Woodard? Sounds like she's got a real connection there." The buzz filtered through, and Bradly's face turned stone-cold. In a tight, edged voice, he demanded, "Stella, what's the story with you and whoever's in box 217?" Stella held his piercing stare and said flatly, "I have no idea who he is." "!" Bradly jumped up, clamping down on her wrist like a vice. Her soft, fair skin reddened almost instantly under the pressure. Stella winced sharply, jerking her arm back on reflex. "Bradly, have you lost your mind? Haven't you stirred up enough drama for one day?" But he barreled on, blind to her fury, his reddened eyes locked on her as if he could swallow her up. "What's really between you two? "Stella, through all our married years, I've bent over backward for you. Anything you desired, I served it up without question. Why would you betray me like this?" In his mind, it was already a done deal: she was entangled in something shady with the man above. If the guy was angling for a favor from him, Bradly would've recognized him right away. People in Ostralver didn't beat around the bush when they needed something from him. They came direct. The jab landed raw and direct. Bradly blinked, frozen for a beat as a flicker of alarm shot through his eyes. Chapter 4 Don't Know You'd Come Bradly said, "I'm sorry, Stella. I didn't mean it like that. I had no right getting jealous over you and some stranger. It's all on me." Bradly's eyes reddened. "But honestly, there's nothing going on between Shanna and me. I just brought her along as a thank-you. Can you let this slide?" Seeing his cue, Shanna ducked her head meekly, her voice catching. "That's right, Mrs. Woodard. I've been bending over backward to keep my distance from Mr. Woodard so you wouldn't get the wrong impression. "I'm not asking for the world, just a decent birthday gift. I didn't grow up with your advantages; you've had everything handed to you and even snagged a catch like Mr. Woodard. Can't I at least pick out something for myself?" "Just a gift, huh?" Stella closed in on her, one step at a time. "Ms. Erickson, I've never given a damn about this 'gift' you're going on about. What gets under my skin is you, a Woodard Group employee, crossing lines you have no business crossing." As they drew closer, Bradly instinctively stepped in front of Shanna, his voice soft and coaxing. "Stella, if it's bugging you this much, I'll transfer her to a branch office once the auction's over. "But for now, cut me some slack. Let Shanna have the bracelet. When we get home, name your price on anything, and it's yours." Shanna bobbed her head in agreement, tears glistening on her lashes as she pleaded, "Stella, I really adore this bracelet. You've got it all already. Why go after the one thing I want? "Or is this just because you hate my guts and can't resist taking shots at me?" "What makes you think I'd ever like you?" Stella let out a cold snort. "This belonged to me from the start. Why the hell would I give it up?" She took the bracelet from the attendant with casual ease, her smile sharp but empty. "Ms. Erickson, know your place." Her refusal to budge finally wore through Bradly's patience, erasing every bit of softness from his face. "Stella, do you have to humiliate me like this in front of everyone? Where does that leave my dignity? "It's just a crappy old bracelet. Am I really worth less to you than some trinket?" He said it with such conviction, as if he'd wiped from his memory the solemn vow he'd made when proposing: that he'd hunt down every single one of her mother's sold-off keepsakes, no matter what. Stella's hand flew up, delivering a resounding slap across his cheek. The sharp crack rang out, pulling shocked stares from every corner of the room. Bradly's head snapped sideways, his face livid as he fixed her with a glare, his words hissing through clenched teeth. "Stella, drop the drama already. Have I pampered you too much these days, turning you into this unreasonable nightmare?" Stella reined in her temper, keeping her tone even. "Bradly, you better not live to regret today." Without another word, she turned and walked out, not sparing a backward glance. As her figure receded, Shanna gently touched the angry red mark on Bradly's cheek, her voice full of worry. "Mr. Woodard, are you okay? "Stella's got no boundaries. How could she hit you with all these people watching?" Bradly swatted her hand aside, his nails digging into his palm as he stared after her retreating path. "I've spoiled her rotten, letting her forget that everything she has comes from me." Shanna peeked at his changing expression, testing the waters. "Mr. Woodard, about the bracelet..." Bradly rubbed his throbbing cheek, pulled a bank card from his pocket, and handed it over. "1.7 million dollars on there. Buy whatever catches your eye." Box 217, Stella rapped on the door, eager to thank the mystery bidder face-to-face. Silence. She caught a server walking by. "Excuse me, any idea where the gentleman from this box headed?" "He slipped out right after nabbing the last item," the server said. Disappointment flashed in her eyes, but Stella pressed on, "Do you know who he was?" The server gave her a regretful smile. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard, we're not allowed to spill on our VIPs. Don't make this harder for us." Catching herself, Stella moved out of the way. "Thanks all the same." By the time she made it home from the auction, an hour had ticked by. Stella went straight up to the study, fired up the computer, and dove into the assets registered under her and Bradly's names. After tallying up the numbers, she snatched her phone, found lawyer Rubin Cobb's contact, and hit dial. She said, "I've sorted out the asset division documents for me and Bradly and sent them over. I need you to handle the property split by tomorrow." Rubin quickly received the files and nodded respectfully. "Of course, Mrs. Woodard. I'll get right on it." Stella stared intently at her computer screen, her grip tightening on the mouse. "If Bradly's committed bigamy, how should our assets be divided?" "Generally, any property the bigamous party gained through the bigamy can be claimed back by the other spouse," Rubin replied matter-of-factly. Half of Bradly's current wealth had come from Stella's investments to support his career early on. Her expression darkened, and she promptly forwarded the marriage license between him and Shanna. "Rubin, please use every legal avenue to recover my half of the assets." After hanging up, Stella slumped back in her chair, utterly drained physically and emotionally. She closed her eyes slowly, but sleep was nowhere in sight. Bradly would never agree to a divorce. Until she had everything locked down, she couldn't let on that anything was amiss. Just then, the study door was kicked open from the outside. Bradly flung his jacket onto the desk and yanked Stella up from her seat in front of the computer. "Do you realize that because of your little outburst, I've become a laughingstock in our circles? "What exactly do you want? Are you still obsessing over what happened back then?" Stella opened her eyes slowly, her gaze settling calmly on Bradly, but she remained silent. A fire raged in Bradly's chest, intensifying by the second, and he couldn't hold back his fury any longer. "Since we got married, have I ever done anything to wrong you? I come home right on time every night after work, I always fill you in on any business dinners, and if there's even a hint of a woman involved, I skip them entirely! I've bent over backward, and it's still not good enough for you?" He remembered every detail crystal clear. In his mind, these were the sacrifices he'd made to marry her. Stella suddenly found the whole thing absurd. She couldn't bear to look at him anymore, so she stood up and walked straight out of the study without a backward glance. Behind her, Bradly's voice echoed heavily. "Stella, no matter what you think, my conscience is clear." It felt like Stella's heart had been shattered into icy fragments, a sharp, bitter pain surging through her. Her mind buzzed, and for a moment, all she could hear was that phrase repeating over and over. She thought, 'My conscience is clear? So, in his eyes, everything he's done is perfectly justifiable.' The next morning, when Stella woke up, Bradly was already gone. On the table sat the breakfast he'd prepared, tailored exactly to her tastes. Stella pressed her lips together, her feelings a complicated tangle. They'd ended things on a sour note last night, yet Bradly had still made her breakfast this morning. But this was the same man who'd lied to her for years. No matter what, it was time to end things with Bradly. She didn't touch the food and headed straight to the office. These past few years, she'd stayed out of Bradly's business dealings. A lot of her old financial records were outdated now, and she needed the latest reports. The secretary looked startled when she saw her, then managed to say, "Mrs. Woodard, are you here to see Mr. Woodard?" "No." Stella replied evenly. "Send the finance manager in to see me." Her shares were second only to Bradly's, giving her full access to every aspect of the company. The secretary hesitated briefly before nodding. Stella noticed her immediately turning to make a phone call, probably alerting Bradly. Stella didn't intervene; let her. She settled into the finance office, sipping her coffee absentmindedly while flipping through magazines on the shelf. Most were glossy entertainment rags, mixed in with novels and comics. Stella frowned, only now picking up on the details: the desk was covered in a pink plaid mat, cluttered with adorable plush toys. The standout pair was a set of couple dolls, their outfits emblazoned with the letters W and E. It hit Stella suddenly what that meant, and just then, the door behind her swung open. Shanna rushed in. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard." She was clutching a cup of coffee as she apologized. "I had no idea you'd drop by like this..." Chapter 5 All For Milford Stella arched an eyebrow as she looked her over. "So you're the finance manager?" Shanna nodded with a quick smile. "That's me. If you need anything at all, just say the word. Bradly, well, Mr. Woodard is tied up in a meeting right now. But don't worry, I'll make sure to relay whatever message you have." Stella let out a soft laugh. "No need for that." She regarded Shanna with clear curiosity. "I'm not looking for Bradly. I'm here to see you." Shanna's smile faltered for a moment before she recovered, her tone turning gentle. "Mrs. Woodard, I get that you're still bothered by what went down at the auction last night, but there's no reason to be so worked up about my connection to Mr. Woodard. After all..." She raised her hand, the elegant diamond ring on her finger glinting under the light, perfectly complementing her bashful grin. "I'm already married, and things are great between me and my husband." Stella's eyes locked on the ring, her breath hitching just for an instant. It was ridiculous. In this whole messed-up situation, she was the one playing the role of the mistress. The ring was an exact match for the one Bradly had given her during his proposal. But within seconds, Stella averted her gaze. "It's a lovely ring, but you're mistaken." She spoke unhurriedly, "I'm just here to grab the latest financial report from you. That's all." Stella caught the sour shift in Shanna's expression and smiled to herself. "Seems like you're the one on edge here, Ms. Erickson." Shanna's face transformed completely, that smug spark in her eyes snuffed out. She bit her lip, unable to find words for a long beat. Stella watched her with unruffled poise. "Do I need to repeat my request, Ms. Erickson?" The words had barely left her mouth when Bradly burst in, his expression clouding over at the sight. "Stella, wasn't the scene from last night enough?" His voice was laced with ice. "How long are you planning to drag this out? I've told you already. There's nothing going on between me and Shanna. If you don't believe me..." Stella interrupted him mid-sentence, "Oh, I believe you. Absolutely." A faint smirk tugged at her lips, though her eyes remained frosty as they settled on Shanna. "After all, Ms. Erickson's already married. She just mentioned it herself." The statement landed like a bomb. Shanna's face drained of color, and Bradly's followed suit. He shot her a withering glare. Tears sprang to Shanna's eyes in an instant. Stella had no interest in watching the drama unfold any further. She said evenly, "I'm here for this year's financials. I hold forty percent of the company. Surely I can access that, right?" Bradly seemed to snap back to reality, nodding hastily. "Of course you can." He barked orders at the secretary to fetch it immediately, all the while stealing wary glances at her face. Once he confirmed she wasn't giving anything away, he exhaled almost imperceptibly in relief. He said, "Stella, what's with the sudden interest? You've never bothered with company matters before." Stella answered coolly, "After the account freeze last night, I decided it's smarter to set up a separate one." Bradly's expression froze again. "Stella..." The secretary returned promptly with the report. Stella brushed Bradly aside, skimmed through it quickly, and was heading for the door when he caught her by the wrist. He said, "Stella, about the family dinner tonight, are you coming home with me?" His tone was pleading, like he needed her answer to reassure himself that she hadn't caught on to anything fishy. Stella didn't look back, just replying calmly, "Sure." Bradly's face lit up. "Great, I'll swing by after work to pick you up." Stella dropped her gaze, masking the cool detachment in her eyes. She'd only agreed to head back to the family estate for one specific reason. The marriage license from when she and Bradly had tied the knot was a phony, but he'd made a whole production out of stashing it away at the house, claiming it had to be kept secure. Nothing could serve as stronger proof. Once she got her hands on it, his bigamy would be ironclad. Stella didn't bother waiting for Bradly; she hailed a cab and got there ahead of time. She'd figured it was just a standard family gathering, but she was caught off guard by the full turnout. Bradly's parents, fresh from their overseas vacation last week, were back, and even the distant relatives from the Woodard family's side branches had shown up en masse. "Stella, dear." As she walked in, Nadine Woodard peered over her shoulder. "Bradly didn't come with you?" Stella answered evenly, "He'll be along shortly." Nadine clicked her tongue, her irritation obvious. "On an important occasion like this, letting someone from outside the family arrive solo, what's got into him?" Stella's brow furrowed just a touch. She and Bradly had been engaged since childhood, but after her mother's passing, the Daniels family's status had tanked while the Woodard family kept climbing. That was when Nadine started pushing to scrap the arrangement, and she'd mentioned it more than a few times. But Chuck Woodard was upright and principled, flat-out refusing to play the social-climbing game. With Bradly dead set on marrying her and no one else, Nadine had reluctantly given in, though she made her resentment clear. Even after the marriage, she never passed up an opportunity to give Stella the cold shoulder. She was about to add something else when the butler rushed in and murmured, "He's here." Nadine promptly dropped the subject with Stella and jumped to her feet, the extended family hustling out right behind her to welcome the arrivals. The level of pomp surprised Stella. The Woodard family was already at the top of Ostralver's social elite. For them to pull out all the stops like this... Standing at the edge of the group, Stella glanced up and saw a black Maybach rolling up to the front of the estate. Someone hurried forward to open the door respectfully, and a tall, imposing figure stepped out unhurriedly. The man wore a sleek black suit, his chiseled features sharp, eyes as midnight, radiating a fierce intensity. Every gesture exuded a natural poise and authority that made it tough to hold his stare. The crowd swarmed forward in a rush, but he stayed cool and detached the whole time, his stunningly handsome face as impassive as carved ice, showing zero emotion. Then, as if picking up on something, he looked up toward Stella. Their eyes locked unexpectedly, sending her heart pounding. It was Milford Woodard, Bradly's brother. He'd returned to the country. Though they were brothers in name, Milford wasn't all that tight with the family. He'd headed overseas young and had spent years growing the business abroad. His father Edward Woodard was a total lightweight, good only at spending cash, not earning it. His grandpa Chuck had the smarts and drive, but age was catching up, leaving him unable to manage it all. Real power over the Woodard family had shifted to Milford ages ago. Stella let out a quiet breath. She thought, 'That explains the big crowd today. They've all turned out for Milford.' Chapter 6 Need Help? Stella lingered in the corner of the living room, watching the relatives descend like a swarm of locusts, all scrambling to surround Milford. Bradly stood next to Nadine, flashing a polished smile as he greeted, "Hey, Milford." The uncles who'd been buttering up Bradly just a minute ago quickly switched gears, beaming with over-the-top enthusiasm as they stepped up to say hello. "Milford, what prompted the sudden return?" "Milford, I hear you're in the middle of acquiring a domestic company? You're just getting more impressive by the day." "Come on inside, take a seat. We've got some top-shelf coffee." Bradly caught the stark contrast in the uncles' warmth, his smile fading briefly before he pulled it together and led the way forward. Stella quietly eyed the tall, strikingly handsome Milford striding into the living room like the star of the show, instinctively edging back a step. Now fully pushed to the fringes of the crowd, she shifted aside to let the trailing group pass, doing everything she could to blend into the wallpaper. Milford approached steadily. Unlike Bradly's flashy, outgoing vibe, he had a more brooding, aloof kind of handsomeness, like a pine tree blanketed in snow, regal and intimidating. He acknowledged the flattery around him with simple nods, his eyes scanning the room casually, subtly taking stock of everyone there. Until his gaze swept over Stella again, and he came to an abrupt halt. He paused, causing Bradly to stop too. "Something wrong, Milford?" Milford didn't respond, his steady gaze fixed on Stella. It was only a look, but it jolted her to her core. She felt an odd sense of being claimed, uninvited. Yet she'd barely crossed paths with Milford before. Bradly and the others traced his stare, his eyebrow quirking up. "Stella, come say hi to Big Milford." Stella started to step forward, but Milford beat her to it, walking straight toward her. Bradly and the rest exchanged surprised glances. So far, everyone had been approaching Milford. He hadn't initiated with a soul. Milford's deep eyes gave nothing away. "Stella?" Her breath hitched, like a faint breeze had brushed her ear. She hadn't anticipated him coming over to chat. It had been years, and they'd only met once or twice, but he still remembered her. Stella nodded. "Milford, it's been ages—" Before she could finish, Milford held out his hand. The move was so casual, so natural. Out of pure reflex and politeness, Stella extended hers, their palms connecting. In that brief clasp, she felt him squeeze gently, his thumb settling on her fingers and grazing them with a warm intensity. Milford released after just a second. Suddenly, Bradly sidled up, drawing Stella into his side with an arm around her waist, lacing his fingers through her left hand. He said, "Milford, how long are you in town this time? Stella and I can take you out to dinner one of these days." Milford took in their cozy pose, his glance dropping to their intertwined hands. "About a month." The words had barely left his mouth when Chuck came down the stairs, leaning on the butler for support. Milford headed over to talk with him. Not long after, the kitchen called that the party was ready. Stella trailed Bradly to their seats on the left side of the main table. Everyone filed in and sat. As the eldest branch, the two Woodard brothers took priority. Chuck claimed the head of the main table, with Nadine and Milford next in line. Stella and Bradly fell further down the order, landing her right across from Milford on the diagonal. The family feast got underway, with everyone firing questions at Milford about what he'd been up to lately. Stella kept her head down, nibbling at her food while catching bits of the conversation. Zrester bigwig, major stakeholder in Wonder Group, founder of that financial exchange and the smart transportation AI... Milford's credentials were endless and mind-blowing. She thought back to that Zrester party invite list she'd snagged years ago. Milford was third from the top, while she languished at the bottom. In all these years, she'd had next to no interaction with him. Right after the wedding, this mysterious Milford had only shown up once. He dropped off a gift and vanished. In just a handful of years, Milford had climbed to the pinnacle of Zrester's power players. His talent was obvious. Before long, the family party wound down, and folks scattered to grab desserts. Still hung up on that marriage license, Stella excused herself to head upstairs for a coat change. Bradly was itching to chat with Milford, his gaze fixed that way as he muttered distractedly, "Yeah, go on up." Stella wasted no time hustling upstairs. With the crowd milling about downstairs, she slipped to the third floor of the villa and nudged open Bradly's bedroom door. There it was: the glaring marriage license perched right on top of the nightstand, framed, flanked by their wedding portrait. As she stepped closer, memories of Bradly's cozy moments with Shanna flooded her brain, her nails digging slowly into her palm. That license seared her eyes, like it was sneering at her gullibility. She never should've caved, never should've handed Bradly a second shot. It just went to show that people's hearts circled back for seconds. Disgust flickered in her eyes as she hauled the desk's computer chair over, the kind with wheels and a swivel, shaky at best. She climbed onto it, planting one foot on the bed for stability, teetering just enough to hold steady. Stella hiked up her pearl-white knee-length dress a bit and stretched upward slowly. Fingers extended to the max, but she was still a couple inches shy. She rose onto her tiptoes, straining, but no dice. Frowning from her perch, she scanned around and snagged a book from beside the cabinet. As she leaned down, footsteps suddenly echoed outside the door. Fast, but measured. A man's, for sure. Her pulse spiked. She clutched the table, scrambling to hop down, but, perfect timing, her other sleeve caught on the cabinet's edge. She tugged frantically to break free, but it was too late to descend. The door flew open out of nowhere. Stella went rigid, her knees giving way as she toppled backward off the chair. A quick yelp escaped her, but the expected crash never hit. A firm hand latched precisely onto her thigh, another banding around her waist, hauling her into a solid hold and planting her feet firmly on the floor. She slammed into a warm, toned chest, a crisp, grounding sandalwood aroma enveloping her, not Bradly's scent. Stella glanced up, nearly clipping the guy's chin. Milford let go right away, backing off a step to give her space. Her cheeks burned, the thigh he'd gripped feeling like it was on fire. Mortified and frozen, she stammered, "Th-thanks." Milford stayed composed, his eyes skimming her flushed face and the pinkened patch of skin on her thigh from his hold. His Adam's apple dipped subtly. "Didn't realize you were in here. My bad." Stella shook her head, even more flustered. She was the one imposing on him. Milford flicked a glance upward. "Need some help?" She looked too. Up top, the marriage license screamed for attention. Chapter 7 Don't Let Me Hate You Stella just came out with it. "I want to get the marriage license down." Milford hesitated for a beat, without probing why she needed it, and slid the chair out of the way. Tall and long-limbed, he barely had to tip up on his toes to snag it effortlessly. Milford skimmed the lettering on the license, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes before the faintest quirk tugged at his lips, almost undetectable. He passed it over to Stella. "Ah, I see." She missed the words, taking it with a soft murmur: "Thanks, Milford." Her palms were slick with sweat now, but holding the certificate still sent an icy shiver through her. Those bold letters were a brutal reminder. This whole marriage had been one big joke. From beginning to end, Bradly's grand performance of undying love had always had a third wheel in the shadows. Milford dropped his gaze. Towering over her, all he could make out was the neat swirl at the top of her head, round and oddly appealing. Those slim, pale hands gripped the certificate like a vise, completely bloodless. Milford asked offhandedly, "So, what's the marriage license for?" "Oh, I just want to bring it home and store it there," Stella shot back, pulling an excuse out of thin air. Milford's stare felt like it enveloped her, the heat of it almost scorching, though he kept his hands to himself. Then he casually adjusted his cufflinks and turned to go. Stella let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, sagging against the cool cabinet. Her thigh still tingled with warmth from his grip; she quickly smoothed her skirt down, tucked the license into her bag, and only left the room once everything looked undisturbed. Bradly was still out in the back garden, deep in conversation. Stella kept her face neutral, strolling over to stand at his side. A few relatives were chatting with him. "Hey, word is Milford actually got back a couple days ago, but only tipped us off today." Bradly looked taken aback. "I thought he was flying in today?" "Nope, sounds like he hit up some auction. I only heard bits and pieces, supposedly the other night at the Empire Auction House." "He must not have gone. I was there that evening too, and I didn't see him anywhere," Bradly said, frowning in confusion. Stella's eyelashes flickered subtly, but she played it cool. Out of nowhere, her mind jumped back to that enigmatic bidder in suite 217. She wondered, 'Could Milford be the mystery guest who got the bracelet for me?' She shoved the thought down as soon as it surfaced. They'd only crossed paths once, total strangers really, connected by the flimsiest in-law tie. No matter how you sliced it, Milford wouldn't stick his neck out for her. Just like Bradly said, he hadn't caught wind of anything, so it couldn't be Milford. Stella let it go. After some more mingling, the group started to break up. Bradly steered her over to bid farewell to Milford. "Mom, Milford, we're taking off. Let's set up a family dinner soon when things settle." Milford slouched back in his chair with effortless nonchalance and gave a nod. "I'm knee-deep in an acquisition, no hurry on the get-together. But you..." He lifted his head, his expression sharpening. "Keep your life on the straight and narrow. Don't veer off track." The edge of warning in his voice was crystal clear. Bradly had grown up overshadowed by Milford; he went rigid but brushed it off casually. "Come on, everything's good. My company's running smooth as ever. If you're skeptical, drop by anytime and pore over the financials—knock yourself out." "It's not just about the company," Milford said softly, eyes down as he savored a sip of coffee. Stella couldn't help stealing a glance at him, and in that instant, a ridiculous idea struck her. From what Bradly had mentioned, Milford was abroad most of the time but still had the inside scoop on everything back home. She wondered, 'Does he know about the shady stuff Bradly is up to on the sly?' "Milford, I hear you. I'll make sure to nurture my marriage with Stella, our whole life together." Bradly grinned, threading his fingers through Stella's. Milford's gaze lingered on their joined hands for a second before drifting away, sealed with a subtle nod. Stella had no desire for any more close contact with Bradly, so she subtly shook his hand free without thinking. A split second later, his disbelieving stare locked onto her face, and he tried to grab her again. She'd known her move would humiliate him in the moment, so she didn't bother saying goodbye to Milford. She just turned and walked out ahead. Once they slid into the car, Bradly shed his polite, deferential mask from earlier, reverting to his entitled rich-kid swagger. He tugged his tie loose, a flicker of annoyance pinching his brows. "Always playing the big-brother card to chew me out, same crap since we were little. "So what if he's crushing it overseas? I'm holding my own just fine back home. Who in Ostralver would even think about messing with me?" Bradly fished out a menthol cigarette on autopilot, ready to light up, but he caught himself after glancing at Stella and shoved it back. He said, "All these years, folks have been whispering, or saying it straight to my face, that my company's thriving because of his pull. Like he's behind every damn thing. "And you? You flat-out refused to let me hold your hand back there. Trying to make me look like an idiot in front of him?" His expression iced over, the edge in his voice impossible to miss. Stella's frown deepened as she took it in. Even without knowing Milford all that well, she understood that Bradly's cocky antics in Ostralver, brushing people off like they were nothing, had always been propped up by Milford's clout. She'd assumed the brothers were tight, but clearly Bradly's respect was just for show; underneath, his grudge against Milford simmered deep. She could overlook a lot, but with things the way they were now, there was zero point in him putting on that phony hand-holding act. Stella gripped her bag, the one with the marriage license inside, and couldn't bite her tongue. "We haven't held hands in forever. It feels off to me." The car went dead quiet. She was right. Their physical closeness had dwindled so much that even she couldn't pinpoint the last time. Bradly's brow creased, and he snapped the cigarette filter clean off between his fingers. "What was that?" Stella met his eyes steadily. "From here on out, let's skip the pointless touchy-feely stuff. It just doesn't sit right." She hadn't even finished when the brakes screeched harshly. The car lurched to a halt on the empty shoulder of the road. Stella almost smacked into the window from the force, her pulse hammering as she barked, "Are you out of your mind?" Bradly loomed over her, fingers digging into her chin, irritation boiling in his glare. "Stella, do you have any idea what you're saying?" The pinch stung like crazy, and the absurdity of it all hit her as she wrestled to shove him off. "Is it not true? When's the last time we even held hands. Can you remember?" Bradly's gaze turned stormy, like she'd struck a raw spot. "I bet you're hung up on Milford, just like that girl from the second branch. That's why you pulled away in front of him. You're trying to cut ties with me?" "Bradly! What the hell are you babbling about?" Anger surged through her as she pushed harder. "Don't you dare pin your gross history on me!" The way the family had orbited Milford like he was the sun had obviously gotten under his skin. The more she resisted, the darker his look grew. Abruptly, he leaned in and smashed his mouth against hers. Stella's eyes flew wide, her head whipping aside to evade as she hammered at his shoulders with everything she had. He'd locked lips with Shanna god knows how often. The thought turned her stomach, so she clamped down and bit him hard. Bradly yelped in pain, jerking back as the fog cleared and he clocked what he'd just done, regret flashing across his face. Blood dotted his lip, but he brushed it off, lunging to wrap her in his arms. "I'm sorry, Stella, baby, I'm so sorry. I screwed up; it was a stupid impulse..." Drained of energy, Stella sagged into the passenger seat, letting him hold her while a barren wave of emptiness and revulsion washed over her. The hug she'd once melted into now repulsed her to her core. "Get off me." Her voice came out rough and scratchy. "Bradly, don't push me to hating you."
Chapter 1 Don't Want Him Anymore "I'm sorry, ma'am." On the other end of the line, the insurance customer service rep said coolly, "After checking our records, the car owner, Mr. Woodard, is indeed married, but the spouse listed here isn't you." Stella Daniels had gotten into a car accident on her way to the Woodard Group headquarters. She couldn't get through to Bradly Woodard on his phone, so she had no choice but to call the insurance company. The car was registered in Bradly's name, but as his wife, she should be able to process the claim too. "When Mr. Woodard picked up the car, he came with his wife and provided the original marriage license. Her last name is Erickson, and her full name is Shanna Erickson," the rep said. It hit Stella like a slap in the face. Dizziness washed over her in waves, leaving her whole body shaking uncontrollably. She and Bradly had been childhood sweethearts. Their families were old friends, and everyone in Ostralver's high society knew how clingy he was with her. Bradly couldn't stand being apart from her even for a single day. Three years ago, when Stella headed abroad for her studies, Bradly had the plane stopped just for her. During her three years in Ensland, he expanded his business overseas to make it easier to look after her. Sixteen thousand miles apart, he'd still fly across the ocean every week to see her. The year she came down with a severe lung illness and nearly didn't pull through, she spent a week in intensive care. Bradly ignored the infection risks and stayed right by her side, sliding a ring onto her finger. He said, "If anything happens to you, I'll go with you. We'll be husband and wife in the next life too." For Bradly's sake, she turned down her mentor's offer to stay on in the lab and headed back home. Brimming with excitement, she went to find him, planning to surprise him. But when she pushed open the door to the CEO's office, she saw a slender, pretty woman straddling his lap. The woman's innocent face tilted upward, her voice whiny and aggrieved. "Mr. Woodard, what happens to me now that Stella is back?" Bradly sat in his executive chair, his tall frame looming over her. A flash of ruthlessness crossed his stern features. "You? You're just her stand-in. Don't forget your place." He lifted his hand, pinching her delicate chin with a sneer. "Barely a three-out-of-ten resemblance, and you think you can compare to her?" Stella was still clutching the gift she'd prepared for him. With a loud "bang," it dropped to the floor, finally breaking the scene in the office. Bradly's face drained of color as he shoved the woman off and jumped to his feet. That woman was Shanna. After Stella caught them in the act, Bradly fired Shanna on the spot and pulled out all the stops to win her back. Bradly, the arrogant prince of Ostralver's elite circles, humbled himself to the dust before her, begging her to give him another chance. Any project she set her sights on, he'd drop without a second thought. He stood in the pouring rain outside her building for over a week, just for a glimpse of her. He said, "Stella, I'm not asking you to forgive me. At least let me explain. "I only ever saw Shanna as your replacement. You've been gone abroad for so long; I missed you terribly. I swear, I just kept her around. Nothing more ever happened between us. "That time you walked in, I'd had too much to drink, and she deliberately tempted me. I lost control for a moment... "I've already let her go, and she won't show up in our lives again. Stella, please, come back to me." Back then, Stella couldn't stand even the slightest betrayal. She insisted on breaking off the engagement. Until that one incident. She was kidnapped by a business rival. The kidnappers reneged on the deal, tied her up in an abandoned factory, and set the place ablaze. Bradly charged into the flames without a second thought to rescue her, shielding her from a collapsing steel beam. He ended up gravely injured, confined to bed for nearly six months. By risking his life, Bradly finally melted her resolve. Once he was out of the hospital, she accepted his proposal, and they threw a lavish wedding. In the two years since they tied the knot, he'd treated her just as devotedly as ever, with zero scandals. He even imposed a strict curfew on himself, heading home right on time every day. Even on out-of-town business trips, he'd video call her constantly. His partners would tease him about being henpecked. He never denied it. Instead, he'd grin proudly and say, "A real man takes care of his family." Memories rushed through Stella's mind like a whirlwind, every past moment flashing by in a blur. Her legs buckled, and she dropped to her knees, burying her face in her hands. She couldn't figure out which Bradly was the real one anymore. A bitter, mocking gleam sparked in her eyes. She thought, 'How absurd.' She'd been his wife for two years, and only now was she learning that even their marriage license had been a sham. Stella scrubbed her face hard, her bangs already soaked with cold sweat. She ignored the other driver's furious yelling and calmly dialed the police. They showed up fast. After finishing her statement, Stella left the station under a sky that had gone completely dark. Her phone lit up with several missed calls from Bradly. When she hadn't answered, he'd sent texts instead. Bradly: [Babe, I was tied up in a key meeting this afternoon. Signal jammers were on, so I missed your call. You okay?] Bradly: [I've got a client dinner tonight, so I'll be late getting home. I double-checked: no women involved, so no need to worry.] Bradly: [Head to bed early. Don't wait up. Love you.] Stella stared at the screen, a sharp wave of irony twisting in her gut. Bradly didn't stagger in until the wee hours. He reeked of alcohol, which almost, but not quite, masked the subtle whiff of perfume on him. "Honey..." He could barely keep his balance, stumbling over to wrap his arms around her through the blanket. "I missed you so damn much..." Stella didn't say a word. Only once he was dead to the world did she sit up quietly and unlock his phone with his fingerprint. The thing was squeaky clean, no suspicious traces at all. His contacts were mostly buddies and business folks, with hers pinned at the top as "Darling Wife." Flawlessly tidy, just like their sham of a marriage. Stella hooked the phone up to her computer, and it didn't take long to uncover his second WhatsApp account. She signed in, and right away, messages popped up from a profile with a cute pink kitten avatar, labeled "Baby." Shanna: [Bradly, thanks for tonight. Without you, I wouldn't have known what to do.] Shanna: [I've always thought meeting you was the luckiest thing that's ever happened to me. I won't intrude on your life. As long as you swing by to see me once in a while, that's enough to make me happy.] Stella scrolled back through the history. She'd suspected as much, but seeing it all laid out still hit her like a punch to the chest, leaving her breathless. They chatted nearly every day. Shanna never missed a good morning message, and Bradly's replies had shifted over time, from total silence at first, to sporadic responses, and now to answering every single one. A chill spread through her. Stella clutched the phone tighter, knowing she should quit while she was ahead but unable to stop herself from digging deeper. Shanna: [Bradly, sorry, I had a few drinks and lost it for a bit. Doc says I'm okay now, so don't stress.] Shanna: [Mrs. Woodard's birthday bash is important. Go enjoy it with her. I'll be fine.] Stella squeezed her eyes shut as the memory came rushing back. Her birthday. Bradly had spent over a month planning it down to the last detail, but that day, he was totally distracted. Hell, he almost cut his own hand while slicing the cake. When she'd asked what was up, he'd brushed it off as work drama, told her not to worry, then pulled her into a soft embrace and encouraged her to blow out the candles and make a wish. It all made sense now, as she stared at this chat log. That same day, Shanna had tried to kill herself by slashing her wrists and ended up in the ER. A sour bitterness flooded her chest like a rising tide. In those brief seconds when she'd closed her eyes to wish, she wondered, 'Was he agonizing over Shanna in the hospital, or picturing endless years together with her?' Stella knew she didn't need an answer to that anymore. She gently placed the phone back and looked down at Bradly, fast asleep beside her. She'd known him since she was four, and for the twenty years that followed, she'd truly believed his love was hers alone, irreplaceable. But now she saw it for what it was: just cheap free samples at a store, handed out to anyone who walked by. If that was all it amounted to, she was done with it. Chapter 2 Bid Against Her The next day, Stella woke to find Bradly busy in the kitchen, his broad shoulders narrowing to a slim waist, his tall, lean build moving with purpose. The sight hit her hard, a dull ache tightening in her chest. Bradly had learned to cook entirely for her sake. She still remembered that turbulent period when the Woodard Group was in crisis. His rivals had targeted her, paying off a servant to poison her food. She'd been unconscious for three full days. When she finally woke, Bradly was there, his eyes red-rimmed and veined with exhaustion, gripping her hand like a lifeline. The instant she stirred, the imposing Bradly crumbled forward, enveloping her in a hug as scalding tears fell onto her skin. From then on, Bradly threw himself into cooking lessons, taking charge of all her meals. In less than a month, he'd gone from a spoiled elite who couldn't distinguish spices to turning out dishes worthy of a Michelin chef. Just then, his phone rang. Stella glanced at it but made no move to answer. Bradly darted out of the kitchen, apron still on, grabbing the phone with a barely concealed flash of anxiety. Stella pretended not to notice and went to wash up. When she came back, the table was set with breakfast, and he was slipping into his suit jacket from the coat rack. Seeing her, he said gently, "There's an emergency at work. I have to run. Sorry I can't join you for breakfast." Stella murmured, "Sure, work comes first." He was clearly in a hurry, because he didn't pick up on the new edge of cool distance in her tone and rushed out. She stared blankly after him until he was gone, then dumped the entire spread into the trash. Then she picked up her phone and dialed a number. "That offer you made before? I'm on board." The person on the other end erupted in delight, chattering away before shifting to broken Andosa Language. "Stella, why the sudden change of heart? I've bugged you about this so many times, and you always said you were married now and focusing on family." A mocking glint flickered in Stella's eyes. She thought, 'Married? This so-called marriage has been dead on arrival.' The caller was her former mentor from her overseas studies. He'd reached out lately, hoping she'd join his new team and spearhead a major project. At the time, she'd kept saying no out of loyalty to Bradly. Now, she only wished she'd seen through the absurd joke of their marriage earlier. After the call, she contacted immigration to schedule a passport renewal. It would take about a week. But before heading out, she had one loose end to tie up. That evening, Stella showed up at a private auction at the Cloud Hotel. She was after one of her mother's keepsakes. Her mom had died when she was eight, and soon after, the Daniels family had liquidated her wedding gift. Stella had been hunting down the items ever since. Over the years, she'd only reclaimed a few. Tonight's auction featured a bracelet from that collection, one her mother had picked up on a trip to Ijance. It was utterly unique, irreplaceable. Whatever it took, she was getting it back. Stella settled into her seat just as the auction was about to start. She was flipping through the catalog when Bradly's voice floated over. "Didn't I already pick out that royal blue sapphire set for you? Not good enough?" His voice carried that familiar tenderness. Shanna linked her arm with his, pouting playfully. "Your taste sucks! I want to pick my own birthday gift." Stella watched them quietly until Bradly threaded through the guests and their gazes collided by chance. The color drained from his face. On pure reflex, he jerked his arm away from Shanna. "Stella." He strode over quickly. "I tried calling you a few times, but you didn't answer. Were you planning to surprise me?" Even though he tried to play it cool, she could still catch that subtle hint of panic in his expression. Stella didn't bother calling him on it, replying evenly, "My phone was on silent. I didn't hear it." Bradly visibly relaxed, casually taking her hand in his with a look of concern. "Your hands are like ice. Didn't I warn you about the cold snap today? You're always putting style over staying warm. If you catch a chill, you know it'll just kill me." As he talked, he signaled a server for a blanket and draped it snugly around her shoulders. Stella kept a straight face, brushing him off as she looked past him to Shanna, who lingered behind with a scowl. Shanna nibbled her lip, then defiantly dropped into the seat next to Bradly, her gaze simmering with irritation. Bradly leaned closer, dropping his voice to explain, "We just wrapped up a major project at the company, and Shanna pulled her weight big time. Her birthday's around the corner, so I thought I'd treat her to something as a project bonus." He eyed her anxiously. "Stella, you're not mad, right?" Shanna piped up in a soft, vulnerable tone. "Mrs. Woodard, if this upsets you, I'll just go. I don't want to get in the way of you and Mr. Woodard." Stella's mouth quirked into a smile that never touched her eyes. "We're married. A little thing like this? Of course it doesn't bother me." The auction got underway shortly after. Bradly treated Shanna like she was invisible, focusing entirely on Stella. He paged through the catalog, throwing in bids left and right. "Babe, this would look amazing on you." He grinned, tenderly brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his tone warm and intimate. "You'd be gorgeous in it." Stella averted her eyes, but out of the corner of her vision, she saw Shanna discreetly clutching the edge of Bradly's jacket in the dim light. Their gazes locked for a split second in a shared, lingering look. She masked the derision in her own eyes, struck by how absurd it all was. Bradly seemed totally at ease juggling both women, convinced he was keeping things balanced, one with the official status, the other with his undivided public attention. She thought, 'What could be fairer than that?' But Stella had never been interested in that kind of equilibrium. Her world extended far beyond romance. Bradly? He was just a small detour on her path, a misstep she'd own up to. And now, it was time to set things right. "Next up: a string of bracelet. Fine-grained texture, deep aroma that lingers. Starting bid at 170,000 dollars, with increments of at least 20,000 dollars!" The auctioneer's pumped-up voice echoed through the room. Finally, Stella's main target for the evening. Bids flew in fast, the screen flickering with updates as the auctioneer called out, "Number 17 lady at 200,000 dollars! Number 9 gentleman ups it to 260,000 dollars! Going higher?" Once the initial frenzy tapered off, Stella lifted her paddle. "500,000 dollars." She'd doubled the current bid in one go. It was a hefty amount. Sure, the bracelet was top-notch, but it wasn't the auction's highlight. The room went quiet after her call; no one countered. "Fantastic! Number 11 lady at 500,000 dollars! "500,000 dollars once! 500,000 dollars twice!" The auctioneer hoisted his gavel, poised to bring it down. "No more bids? Then 500,000 dollars—" "520,000 dollars," A gentle, hesitant voice interrupted. Shanna shrank against Bradly's side, paddle in hand, murmuring timidly to him, "Is this where I put in the amount?" Chapter 3 You're Dirty Stella frowned and raised her bid. "540,000 dollars." But Shanna was right behind her, countering with, "560,000 dollars." How annoyingly precise, each time, she stuck to the bare minimum, slapping on just 20,000 dollars more than Stella's offer. Shanna turned toward her, her voice dripping with plea. "Stella, you've got plenty of jewelry already. Please, let me have this one. I adore it. "I'm not like you, born with money, everything handed to you on a silver platter. You snap your fingers and get whatever you want. If it goes any higher, I really won't be able to keep up." Stella didn't bother looking at her, just quirking her lips in a thin smile. "Isn't Mr. Woodard covering the cost for you? What are you stressing about?" Shanna's face went a shade paler, but she answered in that soft, demure tone, "Even so, Mr. Woodard earns his money the hard way. If I can save him a bit, I ought to." She was the epitome of considerate and caring. After several more back-and-forth bids, the bracelet's price had soared to 700,000 dollars. Stella let out a chilly scoff and was opening her mouth to up the ante when Bradly beat her to it. He said, "Babe, why don't we just let Shanna take this bracelet?" Stella's fingers curled into a tight fist, her nails biting into her palm. She lifted her gaze, any lingering warmth in her eyes turning to ice. "What did you just say?" Bradly let out a resigned sigh, giving her hand a comforting pat as he murmured gently, "Babe, I already told Shanna she'd get a gift tonight, and she's got her heart set on this one. No need to compete with her. "Plus, I've already snagged you a handful of other pieces. Isn't that plenty?" He said it all lightly, teasingly, as if it were nothing more than a harmless quip. Stella shut her eyes, a nameless sourness creeping along her nerves, coiling around her heart until it felt like she couldn't draw a breath. Given Shanna's modest background, 700,000 dollars was way out of her league. She wouldn't even make the guest list here on her own. The only reason she was in that seat, trading bids blow for blow, was Bradly's backing. His pampering had delivered her straight into Stella's path. Stella whispered, "What if I refuse to back down?" She hoisted her paddle once more, her voice echoing through the room. "1 million dollars." A hush blanketed the hall. The auctioneer clearly picked up on the drama, his delivery faltering. "Number eleven at 1 million dollars. Do I hear higher?" Shanna's eyes welled up, on the verge of tears, as she cast a helpless look at Bradly before tacking on another fifty thousand. "1 million 20 thousand dollars." Stella's features hardened to frost, and she was poised to fire back when the manager bustled over, bending close to murmur, "Mrs. Woodard, apologies. We ran a credit verification on your account, and it's frozen. Got another one we can use?" The words slammed into her like a bolt from the blue, ringing in her ears. She snapped her head toward Bradly, but he'd already looked away. An icy numbness spread through her arms and legs. She though,t 'Of course, it has to be him.' Her primary account was linked with his; besides her, only he could authorize a freeze on her cards. Triumph flickered in Shanna's eyes as she added with a pointed edge, "Well, in that case, Mrs. Woodard, maybe it's time to step aside. You've got so much already. Can't you let me have this one little thing?" Up on stage, the auction rolled on, the display frozen on Shanna's latest bid: 1 million 20 thousand dollars. Shanna could hardly hide her glee, chirping sweetly, "Go on, call it!" But the words had barely left her lips when someone announced he would bid for the lot at any costs right in the second-floor VIP suite. After a momentary silence, the room burst into chaos. "He's declared absolute intent!" Even the auctioneer's expression changed. He'd been in the game for over a decade, but this was his first encounter with such a scenario. He hurriedly called out, "Lot number six goes to the gentleman in box 217, regardless of how high the price goes." Anyone up in those second-floor VIP suites was either swimming in money or held serious sway in Ostralver's upper crust. Stella glanced upward toward the source of the voice, catching only a vague outline behind the draped curtains. Even when she couldn't see his face, the man's crossed-legged posture radiated an unspoken dominance that pressed down on the room. The auctioneer slammed his gavel down with finality, proclaiming, "Congratulations to our esteemed guest in box 217 on winning lot number six! You're now upgraded to black gold status!" Across all of Ostralver's elite scene, fewer than a handful had ever hit black gold level at these events. Stella wondered, 'Just who is this mystery man?' Stella loosened her clenched fist slightly, torn between relief that her mother's heirloom hadn't landed in Shanna's clutches and anxiety over reclaiming it from this unknown figure. No matter what, she'd stop at nothing, pay any price, to bring her mother's possession home. She rose to her feet, intent on marching over to box 217 for a chat, when the attendant who'd just ducked inside reappeared, tray in hand with the bracelet. "What's this? The bidder in 217 having second thoughts?" "Auctions don't do take-backs." "Probably short on funds. I called it. No one's done this here before." As the murmurs swirled, the attendant headed straight for Stella, dipping into a courteous bow with a warm smile. She said, "Mrs. Woodard, the gentleman in box 217 requests that I deliver the bracelet to you as a gift. He wishes for you to follow your true path and for all to unfold as it should." The place erupted in gossip once more, with guests shooting glances her way, some envious, others skeptical, many flat-out stunned. "Isn't that Mrs. Woodard? What's her deal with the upstairs guy?" "Likely just buttering up Mr. Woodard." "Nah, I don't buy it. Out of all the goodies tonight, why zero in on those beads for Mrs. Woodard? Sounds like she's got a real connection there." The buzz filtered through, and Bradly's face turned stone-cold. In a tight, edged voice, he demanded, "Stella, what's the story with you and whoever's in box 217?" Stella held his piercing stare and said flatly, "I have no idea who he is." "!" Bradly jumped up, clamping down on her wrist like a vice. Her soft, fair skin reddened almost instantly under the pressure. Stella winced sharply, jerking her arm back on reflex. "Bradly, have you lost your mind? Haven't you stirred up enough drama for one day?" But he barreled on, blind to her fury, his reddened eyes locked on her as if he could swallow her up. "What's really between you two? "Stella, through all our married years, I've bent over backward for you. Anything you desired, I served it up without question. Why would you betray me like this?" In his mind, it was already a done deal: she was entangled in something shady with the man above. If the guy was angling for a favor from him, Bradly would've recognized him right away. People in Ostralver didn't beat around the bush when they needed something from him. They came direct. The jab landed raw and direct. Bradly blinked, frozen for a beat as a flicker of alarm shot through his eyes. Chapter 4 Don't Know You'd Come Bradly said, "I'm sorry, Stella. I didn't mean it like that. I had no right getting jealous over you and some stranger. It's all on me." Bradly's eyes reddened. "But honestly, there's nothing going on between Shanna and me. I just brought her along as a thank-you. Can you let this slide?" Seeing his cue, Shanna ducked her head meekly, her voice catching. "That's right, Mrs. Woodard. I've been bending over backward to keep my distance from Mr. Woodard so you wouldn't get the wrong impression. "I'm not asking for the world, just a decent birthday gift. I didn't grow up with your advantages; you've had everything handed to you and even snagged a catch like Mr. Woodard. Can't I at least pick out something for myself?" "Just a gift, huh?" Stella closed in on her, one step at a time. "Ms. Erickson, I've never given a damn about this 'gift' you're going on about. What gets under my skin is you, a Woodard Group employee, crossing lines you have no business crossing." As they drew closer, Bradly instinctively stepped in front of Shanna, his voice soft and coaxing. "Stella, if it's bugging you this much, I'll transfer her to a branch office once the auction's over. "But for now, cut me some slack. Let Shanna have the bracelet. When we get home, name your price on anything, and it's yours." Shanna bobbed her head in agreement, tears glistening on her lashes as she pleaded, "Stella, I really adore this bracelet. You've got it all already. Why go after the one thing I want? "Or is this just because you hate my guts and can't resist taking shots at me?" "What makes you think I'd ever like you?" Stella let out a cold snort. "This belonged to me from the start. Why the hell would I give it up?" She took the bracelet from the attendant with casual ease, her smile sharp but empty. "Ms. Erickson, know your place." Her refusal to budge finally wore through Bradly's patience, erasing every bit of softness from his face. "Stella, do you have to humiliate me like this in front of everyone? Where does that leave my dignity? "It's just a crappy old bracelet. Am I really worth less to you than some trinket?" He said it with such conviction, as if he'd wiped from his memory the solemn vow he'd made when proposing: that he'd hunt down every single one of her mother's sold-off keepsakes, no matter what. Stella's hand flew up, delivering a resounding slap across his cheek. The sharp crack rang out, pulling shocked stares from every corner of the room. Bradly's head snapped sideways, his face livid as he fixed her with a glare, his words hissing through clenched teeth. "Stella, drop the drama already. Have I pampered you too much these days, turning you into this unreasonable nightmare?" Stella reined in her temper, keeping her tone even. "Bradly, you better not live to regret today." Without another word, she turned and walked out, not sparing a backward glance. As her figure receded, Shanna gently touched the angry red mark on Bradly's cheek, her voice full of worry. "Mr. Woodard, are you okay? "Stella's got no boundaries. How could she hit you with all these people watching?" Bradly swatted her hand aside, his nails digging into his palm as he stared after her retreating path. "I've spoiled her rotten, letting her forget that everything she has comes from me." Shanna peeked at his changing expression, testing the waters. "Mr. Woodard, about the bracelet..." Bradly rubbed his throbbing cheek, pulled a bank card from his pocket, and handed it over. "1.7 million dollars on there. Buy whatever catches your eye." Box 217, Stella rapped on the door, eager to thank the mystery bidder face-to-face. Silence. She caught a server walking by. "Excuse me, any idea where the gentleman from this box headed?" "He slipped out right after nabbing the last item," the server said. Disappointment flashed in her eyes, but Stella pressed on, "Do you know who he was?" The server gave her a regretful smile. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard, we're not allowed to spill on our VIPs. Don't make this harder for us." Catching herself, Stella moved out of the way. "Thanks all the same." By the time she made it home from the auction, an hour had ticked by. Stella went straight up to the study, fired up the computer, and dove into the assets registered under her and Bradly's names. After tallying up the numbers, she snatched her phone, found lawyer Rubin Cobb's contact, and hit dial. She said, "I've sorted out the asset division documents for me and Bradly and sent them over. I need you to handle the property split by tomorrow." Rubin quickly received the files and nodded respectfully. "Of course, Mrs. Woodard. I'll get right on it." Stella stared intently at her computer screen, her grip tightening on the mouse. "If Bradly's committed bigamy, how should our assets be divided?" "Generally, any property the bigamous party gained through the bigamy can be claimed back by the other spouse," Rubin replied matter-of-factly. Half of Bradly's current wealth had come from Stella's investments to support his career early on. Her expression darkened, and she promptly forwarded the marriage license between him and Shanna. "Rubin, please use every legal avenue to recover my half of the assets." After hanging up, Stella slumped back in her chair, utterly drained physically and emotionally. She closed her eyes slowly, but sleep was nowhere in sight. Bradly would never agree to a divorce. Until she had everything locked down, she couldn't let on that anything was amiss. Just then, the study door was kicked open from the outside. Bradly flung his jacket onto the desk and yanked Stella up from her seat in front of the computer. "Do you realize that because of your little outburst, I've become a laughingstock in our circles? "What exactly do you want? Are you still obsessing over what happened back then?" Stella opened her eyes slowly, her gaze settling calmly on Bradly, but she remained silent. A fire raged in Bradly's chest, intensifying by the second, and he couldn't hold back his fury any longer. "Since we got married, have I ever done anything to wrong you? I come home right on time every night after work, I always fill you in on any business dinners, and if there's even a hint of a woman involved, I skip them entirely! I've bent over backward, and it's still not good enough for you?" He remembered every detail crystal clear. In his mind, these were the sacrifices he'd made to marry her. Stella suddenly found the whole thing absurd. She couldn't bear to look at him anymore, so she stood up and walked straight out of the study without a backward glance. Behind her, Bradly's voice echoed heavily. "Stella, no matter what you think, my conscience is clear." It felt like Stella's heart had been shattered into icy fragments, a sharp, bitter pain surging through her. Her mind buzzed, and for a moment, all she could hear was that phrase repeating over and over. She thought, 'My conscience is clear? So, in his eyes, everything he's done is perfectly justifiable.' The next morning, when Stella woke up, Bradly was already gone. On the table sat the breakfast he'd prepared, tailored exactly to her tastes. Stella pressed her lips together, her feelings a complicated tangle. They'd ended things on a sour note last night, yet Bradly had still made her breakfast this morning. But this was the same man who'd lied to her for years. No matter what, it was time to end things with Bradly. She didn't touch the food and headed straight to the office. These past few years, she'd stayed out of Bradly's business dealings. A lot of her old financial records were outdated now, and she needed the latest reports. The secretary looked startled when she saw her, then managed to say, "Mrs. Woodard, are you here to see Mr. Woodard?" "No." Stella replied evenly. "Send the finance manager in to see me." Her shares were second only to Bradly's, giving her full access to every aspect of the company. The secretary hesitated briefly before nodding. Stella noticed her immediately turning to make a phone call, probably alerting Bradly. Stella didn't intervene; let her. She settled into the finance office, sipping her coffee absentmindedly while flipping through magazines on the shelf. Most were glossy entertainment rags, mixed in with novels and comics. Stella frowned, only now picking up on the details: the desk was covered in a pink plaid mat, cluttered with adorable plush toys. The standout pair was a set of couple dolls, their outfits emblazoned with the letters W and E. It hit Stella suddenly what that meant, and just then, the door behind her swung open. Shanna rushed in. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard." She was clutching a cup of coffee as she apologized. "I had no idea you'd drop by like this..." Chapter 5 All For Milford Stella arched an eyebrow as she looked her over. "So you're the finance manager?" Shanna nodded with a quick smile. "That's me. If you need anything at all, just say the word. Bradly, well, Mr. Woodard is tied up in a meeting right now. But don't worry, I'll make sure to relay whatever message you have." Stella let out a soft laugh. "No need for that." She regarded Shanna with clear curiosity. "I'm not looking for Bradly. I'm here to see you." Shanna's smile faltered for a moment before she recovered, her tone turning gentle. "Mrs. Woodard, I get that you're still bothered by what went down at the auction last night, but there's no reason to be so worked up about my connection to Mr. Woodard. After all..." She raised her hand, the elegant diamond ring on her finger glinting under the light, perfectly complementing her bashful grin. "I'm already married, and things are great between me and my husband." Stella's eyes locked on the ring, her breath hitching just for an instant. It was ridiculous. In this whole messed-up situation, she was the one playing the role of the mistress. The ring was an exact match for the one Bradly had given her during his proposal. But within seconds, Stella averted her gaze. "It's a lovely ring, but you're mistaken." She spoke unhurriedly, "I'm just here to grab the latest financial report from you. That's all." Stella caught the sour shift in Shanna's expression and smiled to herself. "Seems like you're the one on edge here, Ms. Erickson." Shanna's face transformed completely, that smug spark in her eyes snuffed out. She bit her lip, unable to find words for a long beat. Stella watched her with unruffled poise. "Do I need to repeat my request, Ms. Erickson?" The words had barely left her mouth when Bradly burst in, his expression clouding over at the sight. "Stella, wasn't the scene from last night enough?" His voice was laced with ice. "How long are you planning to drag this out? I've told you already. There's nothing going on between me and Shanna. If you don't believe me..." Stella interrupted him mid-sentence, "Oh, I believe you. Absolutely." A faint smirk tugged at her lips, though her eyes remained frosty as they settled on Shanna. "After all, Ms. Erickson's already married. She just mentioned it herself." The statement landed like a bomb. Shanna's face drained of color, and Bradly's followed suit. He shot her a withering glare. Tears sprang to Shanna's eyes in an instant. Stella had no interest in watching the drama unfold any further. She said evenly, "I'm here for this year's financials. I hold forty percent of the company. Surely I can access that, right?" Bradly seemed to snap back to reality, nodding hastily. "Of course you can." He barked orders at the secretary to fetch it immediately, all the while stealing wary glances at her face. Once he confirmed she wasn't giving anything away, he exhaled almost imperceptibly in relief. He said, "Stella, what's with the sudden interest? You've never bothered with company matters before." Stella answered coolly, "After the account freeze last night, I decided it's smarter to set up a separate one." Bradly's expression froze again. "Stella..." The secretary returned promptly with the report. Stella brushed Bradly aside, skimmed through it quickly, and was heading for the door when he caught her by the wrist. He said, "Stella, about the family dinner tonight, are you coming home with me?" His tone was pleading, like he needed her answer to reassure himself that she hadn't caught on to anything fishy. Stella didn't look back, just replying calmly, "Sure." Bradly's face lit up. "Great, I'll swing by after work to pick you up." Stella dropped her gaze, masking the cool detachment in her eyes. She'd only agreed to head back to the family estate for one specific reason. The marriage license from when she and Bradly had tied the knot was a phony, but he'd made a whole production out of stashing it away at the house, claiming it had to be kept secure. Nothing could serve as stronger proof. Once she got her hands on it, his bigamy would be ironclad. Stella didn't bother waiting for Bradly; she hailed a cab and got there ahead of time. She'd figured it was just a standard family gathering, but she was caught off guard by the full turnout. Bradly's parents, fresh from their overseas vacation last week, were back, and even the distant relatives from the Woodard family's side branches had shown up en masse. "Stella, dear." As she walked in, Nadine Woodard peered over her shoulder. "Bradly didn't come with you?" Stella answered evenly, "He'll be along shortly." Nadine clicked her tongue, her irritation obvious. "On an important occasion like this, letting someone from outside the family arrive solo, what's got into him?" Stella's brow furrowed just a touch. She and Bradly had been engaged since childhood, but after her mother's passing, the Daniels family's status had tanked while the Woodard family kept climbing. That was when Nadine started pushing to scrap the arrangement, and she'd mentioned it more than a few times. But Chuck Woodard was upright and principled, flat-out refusing to play the social-climbing game. With Bradly dead set on marrying her and no one else, Nadine had reluctantly given in, though she made her resentment clear. Even after the marriage, she never passed up an opportunity to give Stella the cold shoulder. She was about to add something else when the butler rushed in and murmured, "He's here." Nadine promptly dropped the subject with Stella and jumped to her feet, the extended family hustling out right behind her to welcome the arrivals. The level of pomp surprised Stella. The Woodard family was already at the top of Ostralver's social elite. For them to pull out all the stops like this... Standing at the edge of the group, Stella glanced up and saw a black Maybach rolling up to the front of the estate. Someone hurried forward to open the door respectfully, and a tall, imposing figure stepped out unhurriedly. The man wore a sleek black suit, his chiseled features sharp, eyes as midnight, radiating a fierce intensity. Every gesture exuded a natural poise and authority that made it tough to hold his stare. The crowd swarmed forward in a rush, but he stayed cool and detached the whole time, his stunningly handsome face as impassive as carved ice, showing zero emotion. Then, as if picking up on something, he looked up toward Stella. Their eyes locked unexpectedly, sending her heart pounding. It was Milford Woodard, Bradly's brother. He'd returned to the country. Though they were brothers in name, Milford wasn't all that tight with the family. He'd headed overseas young and had spent years growing the business abroad. His father Edward Woodard was a total lightweight, good only at spending cash, not earning it. His grandpa Chuck had the smarts and drive, but age was catching up, leaving him unable to manage it all. Real power over the Woodard family had shifted to Milford ages ago. Stella let out a quiet breath. She thought, 'That explains the big crowd today. They've all turned out for Milford.' Chapter 6 Need Help? Stella lingered in the corner of the living room, watching the relatives descend like a swarm of locusts, all scrambling to surround Milford. Bradly stood next to Nadine, flashing a polished smile as he greeted, "Hey, Milford." The uncles who'd been buttering up Bradly just a minute ago quickly switched gears, beaming with over-the-top enthusiasm as they stepped up to say hello. "Milford, what prompted the sudden return?" "Milford, I hear you're in the middle of acquiring a domestic company? You're just getting more impressive by the day." "Come on inside, take a seat. We've got some top-shelf coffee." Bradly caught the stark contrast in the uncles' warmth, his smile fading briefly before he pulled it together and led the way forward. Stella quietly eyed the tall, strikingly handsome Milford striding into the living room like the star of the show, instinctively edging back a step. Now fully pushed to the fringes of the crowd, she shifted aside to let the trailing group pass, doing everything she could to blend into the wallpaper. Milford approached steadily. Unlike Bradly's flashy, outgoing vibe, he had a more brooding, aloof kind of handsomeness, like a pine tree blanketed in snow, regal and intimidating. He acknowledged the flattery around him with simple nods, his eyes scanning the room casually, subtly taking stock of everyone there. Until his gaze swept over Stella again, and he came to an abrupt halt. He paused, causing Bradly to stop too. "Something wrong, Milford?" Milford didn't respond, his steady gaze fixed on Stella. It was only a look, but it jolted her to her core. She felt an odd sense of being claimed, uninvited. Yet she'd barely crossed paths with Milford before. Bradly and the others traced his stare, his eyebrow quirking up. "Stella, come say hi to Big Milford." Stella started to step forward, but Milford beat her to it, walking straight toward her. Bradly and the rest exchanged surprised glances. So far, everyone had been approaching Milford. He hadn't initiated with a soul. Milford's deep eyes gave nothing away. "Stella?" Her breath hitched, like a faint breeze had brushed her ear. She hadn't anticipated him coming over to chat. It had been years, and they'd only met once or twice, but he still remembered her. Stella nodded. "Milford, it's been ages—" Before she could finish, Milford held out his hand. The move was so casual, so natural. Out of pure reflex and politeness, Stella extended hers, their palms connecting. In that brief clasp, she felt him squeeze gently, his thumb settling on her fingers and grazing them with a warm intensity. Milford released after just a second. Suddenly, Bradly sidled up, drawing Stella into his side with an arm around her waist, lacing his fingers through her left hand. He said, "Milford, how long are you in town this time? Stella and I can take you out to dinner one of these days." Milford took in their cozy pose, his glance dropping to their intertwined hands. "About a month." The words had barely left his mouth when Chuck came down the stairs, leaning on the butler for support. Milford headed over to talk with him. Not long after, the kitchen called that the party was ready. Stella trailed Bradly to their seats on the left side of the main table. Everyone filed in and sat. As the eldest branch, the two Woodard brothers took priority. Chuck claimed the head of the main table, with Nadine and Milford next in line. Stella and Bradly fell further down the order, landing her right across from Milford on the diagonal. The family feast got underway, with everyone firing questions at Milford about what he'd been up to lately. Stella kept her head down, nibbling at her food while catching bits of the conversation. Zrester bigwig, major stakeholder in Wonder Group, founder of that financial exchange and the smart transportation AI... Milford's credentials were endless and mind-blowing. She thought back to that Zrester party invite list she'd snagged years ago. Milford was third from the top, while she languished at the bottom. In all these years, she'd had next to no interaction with him. Right after the wedding, this mysterious Milford had only shown up once. He dropped off a gift and vanished. In just a handful of years, Milford had climbed to the pinnacle of Zrester's power players. His talent was obvious. Before long, the family party wound down, and folks scattered to grab desserts. Still hung up on that marriage license, Stella excused herself to head upstairs for a coat change. Bradly was itching to chat with Milford, his gaze fixed that way as he muttered distractedly, "Yeah, go on up." Stella wasted no time hustling upstairs. With the crowd milling about downstairs, she slipped to the third floor of the villa and nudged open Bradly's bedroom door. There it was: the glaring marriage license perched right on top of the nightstand, framed, flanked by their wedding portrait. As she stepped closer, memories of Bradly's cozy moments with Shanna flooded her brain, her nails digging slowly into her palm. That license seared her eyes, like it was sneering at her gullibility. She never should've caved, never should've handed Bradly a second shot. It just went to show that people's hearts circled back for seconds. Disgust flickered in her eyes as she hauled the desk's computer chair over, the kind with wheels and a swivel, shaky at best. She climbed onto it, planting one foot on the bed for stability, teetering just enough to hold steady. Stella hiked up her pearl-white knee-length dress a bit and stretched upward slowly. Fingers extended to the max, but she was still a couple inches shy. She rose onto her tiptoes, straining, but no dice. Frowning from her perch, she scanned around and snagged a book from beside the cabinet. As she leaned down, footsteps suddenly echoed outside the door. Fast, but measured. A man's, for sure. Her pulse spiked. She clutched the table, scrambling to hop down, but, perfect timing, her other sleeve caught on the cabinet's edge. She tugged frantically to break free, but it was too late to descend. The door flew open out of nowhere. Stella went rigid, her knees giving way as she toppled backward off the chair. A quick yelp escaped her, but the expected crash never hit. A firm hand latched precisely onto her thigh, another banding around her waist, hauling her into a solid hold and planting her feet firmly on the floor. She slammed into a warm, toned chest, a crisp, grounding sandalwood aroma enveloping her, not Bradly's scent. Stella glanced up, nearly clipping the guy's chin. Milford let go right away, backing off a step to give her space. Her cheeks burned, the thigh he'd gripped feeling like it was on fire. Mortified and frozen, she stammered, "Th-thanks." Milford stayed composed, his eyes skimming her flushed face and the pinkened patch of skin on her thigh from his hold. His Adam's apple dipped subtly. "Didn't realize you were in here. My bad." Stella shook her head, even more flustered. She was the one imposing on him. Milford flicked a glance upward. "Need some help?" She looked too. Up top, the marriage license screamed for attention. Chapter 7 Don't Let Me Hate You Stella just came out with it. "I want to get the marriage license down." Milford hesitated for a beat, without probing why she needed it, and slid the chair out of the way. Tall and long-limbed, he barely had to tip up on his toes to snag it effortlessly. Milford skimmed the lettering on the license, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes before the faintest quirk tugged at his lips, almost undetectable. He passed it over to Stella. "Ah, I see." She missed the words, taking it with a soft murmur: "Thanks, Milford." Her palms were slick with sweat now, but holding the certificate still sent an icy shiver through her. Those bold letters were a brutal reminder. This whole marriage had been one big joke. From beginning to end, Bradly's grand performance of undying love had always had a third wheel in the shadows. Milford dropped his gaze. Towering over her, all he could make out was the neat swirl at the top of her head, round and oddly appealing. Those slim, pale hands gripped the certificate like a vise, completely bloodless. Milford asked offhandedly, "So, what's the marriage license for?" "Oh, I just want to bring it home and store it there," Stella shot back, pulling an excuse out of thin air. Milford's stare felt like it enveloped her, the heat of it almost scorching, though he kept his hands to himself. Then he casually adjusted his cufflinks and turned to go. Stella let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, sagging against the cool cabinet. Her thigh still tingled with warmth from his grip; she quickly smoothed her skirt down, tucked the license into her bag, and only left the room once everything looked undisturbed. Bradly was still out in the back garden, deep in conversation. Stella kept her face neutral, strolling over to stand at his side. A few relatives were chatting with him. "Hey, word is Milford actually got back a couple days ago, but only tipped us off today." Bradly looked taken aback. "I thought he was flying in today?" "Nope, sounds like he hit up some auction. I only heard bits and pieces, supposedly the other night at the Empire Auction House." "He must not have gone. I was there that evening too, and I didn't see him anywhere," Bradly said, frowning in confusion. Stella's eyelashes flickered subtly, but she played it cool. Out of nowhere, her mind jumped back to that enigmatic bidder in suite 217. She wondered, 'Could Milford be the mystery guest who got the bracelet for me?' She shoved the thought down as soon as it surfaced. They'd only crossed paths once, total strangers really, connected by the flimsiest in-law tie. No matter how you sliced it, Milford wouldn't stick his neck out for her. Just like Bradly said, he hadn't caught wind of anything, so it couldn't be Milford. Stella let it go. After some more mingling, the group started to break up. Bradly steered her over to bid farewell to Milford. "Mom, Milford, we're taking off. Let's set up a family dinner soon when things settle." Milford slouched back in his chair with effortless nonchalance and gave a nod. "I'm knee-deep in an acquisition, no hurry on the get-together. But you..." He lifted his head, his expression sharpening. "Keep your life on the straight and narrow. Don't veer off track." The edge of warning in his voice was crystal clear. Bradly had grown up overshadowed by Milford; he went rigid but brushed it off casually. "Come on, everything's good. My company's running smooth as ever. If you're skeptical, drop by anytime and pore over the financials—knock yourself out." "It's not just about the company," Milford said softly, eyes down as he savored a sip of coffee. Stella couldn't help stealing a glance at him, and in that instant, a ridiculous idea struck her. From what Bradly had mentioned, Milford was abroad most of the time but still had the inside scoop on everything back home. She wondered, 'Does he know about the shady stuff Bradly is up to on the sly?' "Milford, I hear you. I'll make sure to nurture my marriage with Stella, our whole life together." Bradly grinned, threading his fingers through Stella's. Milford's gaze lingered on their joined hands for a second before drifting away, sealed with a subtle nod. Stella had no desire for any more close contact with Bradly, so she subtly shook his hand free without thinking. A split second later, his disbelieving stare locked onto her face, and he tried to grab her again. She'd known her move would humiliate him in the moment, so she didn't bother saying goodbye to Milford. She just turned and walked out ahead. Once they slid into the car, Bradly shed his polite, deferential mask from earlier, reverting to his entitled rich-kid swagger. He tugged his tie loose, a flicker of annoyance pinching his brows. "Always playing the big-brother card to chew me out, same crap since we were little. "So what if he's crushing it overseas? I'm holding my own just fine back home. Who in Ostralver would even think about messing with me?" Bradly fished out a menthol cigarette on autopilot, ready to light up, but he caught himself after glancing at Stella and shoved it back. He said, "All these years, folks have been whispering, or saying it straight to my face, that my company's thriving because of his pull. Like he's behind every damn thing. "And you? You flat-out refused to let me hold your hand back there. Trying to make me look like an idiot in front of him?" His expression iced over, the edge in his voice impossible to miss. Stella's frown deepened as she took it in. Even without knowing Milford all that well, she understood that Bradly's cocky antics in Ostralver, brushing people off like they were nothing, had always been propped up by Milford's clout. She'd assumed the brothers were tight, but clearly Bradly's respect was just for show; underneath, his grudge against Milford simmered deep. She could overlook a lot, but with things the way they were now, there was zero point in him putting on that phony hand-holding act. Stella gripped her bag, the one with the marriage license inside, and couldn't bite her tongue. "We haven't held hands in forever. It feels off to me." The car went dead quiet. She was right. Their physical closeness had dwindled so much that even she couldn't pinpoint the last time. Bradly's brow creased, and he snapped the cigarette filter clean off between his fingers. "What was that?" Stella met his eyes steadily. "From here on out, let's skip the pointless touchy-feely stuff. It just doesn't sit right." She hadn't even finished when the brakes screeched harshly. The car lurched to a halt on the empty shoulder of the road. Stella almost smacked into the window from the force, her pulse hammering as she barked, "Are you out of your mind?" Bradly loomed over her, fingers digging into her chin, irritation boiling in his glare. "Stella, do you have any idea what you're saying?" The pinch stung like crazy, and the absurdity of it all hit her as she wrestled to shove him off. "Is it not true? When's the last time we even held hands. Can you remember?" Bradly's gaze turned stormy, like she'd struck a raw spot. "I bet you're hung up on Milford, just like that girl from the second branch. That's why you pulled away in front of him. You're trying to cut ties with me?" "Bradly! What the hell are you babbling about?" Anger surged through her as she pushed harder. "Don't you dare pin your gross history on me!" The way the family had orbited Milford like he was the sun had obviously gotten under his skin. The more she resisted, the darker his look grew. Abruptly, he leaned in and smashed his mouth against hers. Stella's eyes flew wide, her head whipping aside to evade as she hammered at his shoulders with everything she had. He'd locked lips with Shanna god knows how often. The thought turned her stomach, so she clamped down and bit him hard. Bradly yelped in pain, jerking back as the fog cleared and he clocked what he'd just done, regret flashing across his face. Blood dotted his lip, but he brushed it off, lunging to wrap her in his arms. "I'm sorry, Stella, baby, I'm so sorry. I screwed up; it was a stupid impulse..." Drained of energy, Stella sagged into the passenger seat, letting him hold her while a barren wave of emptiness and revulsion washed over her. The hug she'd once melted into now repulsed her to her core. "Get off me." Her voice came out rough and scratchy. "Bradly, don't push me to hating you."
Chapter 1 Don't Want Him Anymore "I'm sorry, ma'am." On the other end of the line, the insurance customer service rep said coolly, "After checking our records, the car owner, Mr. Woodard, is indeed married, but the spouse listed here isn't you." Stella Daniels had gotten into a car accident on her way to the Woodard Group headquarters. She couldn't get through to Bradly Woodard on his phone, so she had no choice but to call the insurance company. The car was registered in Bradly's name, but as his wife, she should be able to process the claim too. "When Mr. Woodard picked up the car, he came with his wife and provided the original marriage license. Her last name is Erickson, and her full name is Shanna Erickson," the rep said. It hit Stella like a slap in the face. Dizziness washed over her in waves, leaving her whole body shaking uncontrollably. She and Bradly had been childhood sweethearts. Their families were old friends, and everyone in Ostralver's high society knew how clingy he was with her. Bradly couldn't stand being apart from her even for a single day. Three years ago, when Stella headed abroad for her studies, Bradly had the plane stopped just for her. During her three years in Ensland, he expanded his business overseas to make it easier to look after her. Sixteen thousand miles apart, he'd still fly across the ocean every week to see her. The year she came down with a severe lung illness and nearly didn't pull through, she spent a week in intensive care. Bradly ignored the infection risks and stayed right by her side, sliding a ring onto her finger. He said, "If anything happens to you, I'll go with you. We'll be husband and wife in the next life too." For Bradly's sake, she turned down her mentor's offer to stay on in the lab and headed back home. Brimming with excitement, she went to find him, planning to surprise him. But when she pushed open the door to the CEO's office, she saw a slender, pretty woman straddling his lap. The woman's innocent face tilted upward, her voice whiny and aggrieved. "Mr. Woodard, what happens to me now that Stella is back?" Bradly sat in his executive chair, his tall frame looming over her. A flash of ruthlessness crossed his stern features. "You? You're just her stand-in. Don't forget your place." He lifted his hand, pinching her delicate chin with a sneer. "Barely a three-out-of-ten resemblance, and you think you can compare to her?" Stella was still clutching the gift she'd prepared for him. With a loud "bang," it dropped to the floor, finally breaking the scene in the office. Bradly's face drained of color as he shoved the woman off and jumped to his feet. That woman was Shanna. After Stella caught them in the act, Bradly fired Shanna on the spot and pulled out all the stops to win her back. Bradly, the arrogant prince of Ostralver's elite circles, humbled himself to the dust before her, begging her to give him another chance. Any project she set her sights on, he'd drop without a second thought. He stood in the pouring rain outside her building for over a week, just for a glimpse of her. He said, "Stella, I'm not asking you to forgive me. At least let me explain. "I only ever saw Shanna as your replacement. You've been gone abroad for so long; I missed you terribly. I swear, I just kept her around. Nothing more ever happened between us. "That time you walked in, I'd had too much to drink, and she deliberately tempted me. I lost control for a moment... "I've already let her go, and she won't show up in our lives again. Stella, please, come back to me." Back then, Stella couldn't stand even the slightest betrayal. She insisted on breaking off the engagement. Until that one incident. She was kidnapped by a business rival. The kidnappers reneged on the deal, tied her up in an abandoned factory, and set the place ablaze. Bradly charged into the flames without a second thought to rescue her, shielding her from a collapsing steel beam. He ended up gravely injured, confined to bed for nearly six months. By risking his life, Bradly finally melted her resolve. Once he was out of the hospital, she accepted his proposal, and they threw a lavish wedding. In the two years since they tied the knot, he'd treated her just as devotedly as ever, with zero scandals. He even imposed a strict curfew on himself, heading home right on time every day. Even on out-of-town business trips, he'd video call her constantly. His partners would tease him about being henpecked. He never denied it. Instead, he'd grin proudly and say, "A real man takes care of his family." Memories rushed through Stella's mind like a whirlwind, every past moment flashing by in a blur. Her legs buckled, and she dropped to her knees, burying her face in her hands. She couldn't figure out which Bradly was the real one anymore. A bitter, mocking gleam sparked in her eyes. She thought, 'How absurd.' She'd been his wife for two years, and only now was she learning that even their marriage license had been a sham. Stella scrubbed her face hard, her bangs already soaked with cold sweat. She ignored the other driver's furious yelling and calmly dialed the police. They showed up fast. After finishing her statement, Stella left the station under a sky that had gone completely dark. Her phone lit up with several missed calls from Bradly. When she hadn't answered, he'd sent texts instead. Bradly: [Babe, I was tied up in a key meeting this afternoon. Signal jammers were on, so I missed your call. You okay?] Bradly: [I've got a client dinner tonight, so I'll be late getting home. I double-checked: no women involved, so no need to worry.] Bradly: [Head to bed early. Don't wait up. Love you.] Stella stared at the screen, a sharp wave of irony twisting in her gut. Bradly didn't stagger in until the wee hours. He reeked of alcohol, which almost, but not quite, masked the subtle whiff of perfume on him. "Honey..." He could barely keep his balance, stumbling over to wrap his arms around her through the blanket. "I missed you so damn much..." Stella didn't say a word. Only once he was dead to the world did she sit up quietly and unlock his phone with his fingerprint. The thing was squeaky clean, no suspicious traces at all. His contacts were mostly buddies and business folks, with hers pinned at the top as "Darling Wife." Flawlessly tidy, just like their sham of a marriage. Stella hooked the phone up to her computer, and it didn't take long to uncover his second WhatsApp account. She signed in, and right away, messages popped up from a profile with a cute pink kitten avatar, labeled "Baby." Shanna: [Bradly, thanks for tonight. Without you, I wouldn't have known what to do.] Shanna: [I've always thought meeting you was the luckiest thing that's ever happened to me. I won't intrude on your life. As long as you swing by to see me once in a while, that's enough to make me happy.] Stella scrolled back through the history. She'd suspected as much, but seeing it all laid out still hit her like a punch to the chest, leaving her breathless. They chatted nearly every day. Shanna never missed a good morning message, and Bradly's replies had shifted over time, from total silence at first, to sporadic responses, and now to answering every single one. A chill spread through her. Stella clutched the phone tighter, knowing she should quit while she was ahead but unable to stop herself from digging deeper. Shanna: [Bradly, sorry, I had a few drinks and lost it for a bit. Doc says I'm okay now, so don't stress.] Shanna: [Mrs. Woodard's birthday bash is important. Go enjoy it with her. I'll be fine.] Stella squeezed her eyes shut as the memory came rushing back. Her birthday. Bradly had spent over a month planning it down to the last detail, but that day, he was totally distracted. Hell, he almost cut his own hand while slicing the cake. When she'd asked what was up, he'd brushed it off as work drama, told her not to worry, then pulled her into a soft embrace and encouraged her to blow out the candles and make a wish. It all made sense now, as she stared at this chat log. That same day, Shanna had tried to kill herself by slashing her wrists and ended up in the ER. A sour bitterness flooded her chest like a rising tide. In those brief seconds when she'd closed her eyes to wish, she wondered, 'Was he agonizing over Shanna in the hospital, or picturing endless years together with her?' Stella knew she didn't need an answer to that anymore. She gently placed the phone back and looked down at Bradly, fast asleep beside her. She'd known him since she was four, and for the twenty years that followed, she'd truly believed his love was hers alone, irreplaceable. But now she saw it for what it was: just cheap free samples at a store, handed out to anyone who walked by. If that was all it amounted to, she was done with it. Chapter 2 Bid Against Her The next day, Stella woke to find Bradly busy in the kitchen, his broad shoulders narrowing to a slim waist, his tall, lean build moving with purpose. The sight hit her hard, a dull ache tightening in her chest. Bradly had learned to cook entirely for her sake. She still remembered that turbulent period when the Woodard Group was in crisis. His rivals had targeted her, paying off a servant to poison her food. She'd been unconscious for three full days. When she finally woke, Bradly was there, his eyes red-rimmed and veined with exhaustion, gripping her hand like a lifeline. The instant she stirred, the imposing Bradly crumbled forward, enveloping her in a hug as scalding tears fell onto her skin. From then on, Bradly threw himself into cooking lessons, taking charge of all her meals. In less than a month, he'd gone from a spoiled elite who couldn't distinguish spices to turning out dishes worthy of a Michelin chef. Just then, his phone rang. Stella glanced at it but made no move to answer. Bradly darted out of the kitchen, apron still on, grabbing the phone with a barely concealed flash of anxiety. Stella pretended not to notice and went to wash up. When she came back, the table was set with breakfast, and he was slipping into his suit jacket from the coat rack. Seeing her, he said gently, "There's an emergency at work. I have to run. Sorry I can't join you for breakfast." Stella murmured, "Sure, work comes first." He was clearly in a hurry, because he didn't pick up on the new edge of cool distance in her tone and rushed out. She stared blankly after him until he was gone, then dumped the entire spread into the trash. Then she picked up her phone and dialed a number. "That offer you made before? I'm on board." The person on the other end erupted in delight, chattering away before shifting to broken Andosa Language. "Stella, why the sudden change of heart? I've bugged you about this so many times, and you always said you were married now and focusing on family." A mocking glint flickered in Stella's eyes. She thought, 'Married? This so-called marriage has been dead on arrival.' The caller was her former mentor from her overseas studies. He'd reached out lately, hoping she'd join his new team and spearhead a major project. At the time, she'd kept saying no out of loyalty to Bradly. Now, she only wished she'd seen through the absurd joke of their marriage earlier. After the call, she contacted immigration to schedule a passport renewal. It would take about a week. But before heading out, she had one loose end to tie up. That evening, Stella showed up at a private auction at the Cloud Hotel. She was after one of her mother's keepsakes. Her mom had died when she was eight, and soon after, the Daniels family had liquidated her wedding gift. Stella had been hunting down the items ever since. Over the years, she'd only reclaimed a few. Tonight's auction featured a bracelet from that collection, one her mother had picked up on a trip to Ijance. It was utterly unique, irreplaceable. Whatever it took, she was getting it back. Stella settled into her seat just as the auction was about to start. She was flipping through the catalog when Bradly's voice floated over. "Didn't I already pick out that royal blue sapphire set for you? Not good enough?" His voice carried that familiar tenderness. Shanna linked her arm with his, pouting playfully. "Your taste sucks! I want to pick my own birthday gift." Stella watched them quietly until Bradly threaded through the guests and their gazes collided by chance. The color drained from his face. On pure reflex, he jerked his arm away from Shanna. "Stella." He strode over quickly. "I tried calling you a few times, but you didn't answer. Were you planning to surprise me?" Even though he tried to play it cool, she could still catch that subtle hint of panic in his expression. Stella didn't bother calling him on it, replying evenly, "My phone was on silent. I didn't hear it." Bradly visibly relaxed, casually taking her hand in his with a look of concern. "Your hands are like ice. Didn't I warn you about the cold snap today? You're always putting style over staying warm. If you catch a chill, you know it'll just kill me." As he talked, he signaled a server for a blanket and draped it snugly around her shoulders. Stella kept a straight face, brushing him off as she looked past him to Shanna, who lingered behind with a scowl. Shanna nibbled her lip, then defiantly dropped into the seat next to Bradly, her gaze simmering with irritation. Bradly leaned closer, dropping his voice to explain, "We just wrapped up a major project at the company, and Shanna pulled her weight big time. Her birthday's around the corner, so I thought I'd treat her to something as a project bonus." He eyed her anxiously. "Stella, you're not mad, right?" Shanna piped up in a soft, vulnerable tone. "Mrs. Woodard, if this upsets you, I'll just go. I don't want to get in the way of you and Mr. Woodard." Stella's mouth quirked into a smile that never touched her eyes. "We're married. A little thing like this? Of course it doesn't bother me." The auction got underway shortly after. Bradly treated Shanna like she was invisible, focusing entirely on Stella. He paged through the catalog, throwing in bids left and right. "Babe, this would look amazing on you." He grinned, tenderly brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his tone warm and intimate. "You'd be gorgeous in it." Stella averted her eyes, but out of the corner of her vision, she saw Shanna discreetly clutching the edge of Bradly's jacket in the dim light. Their gazes locked for a split second in a shared, lingering look. She masked the derision in her own eyes, struck by how absurd it all was. Bradly seemed totally at ease juggling both women, convinced he was keeping things balanced, one with the official status, the other with his undivided public attention. She thought, 'What could be fairer than that?' But Stella had never been interested in that kind of equilibrium. Her world extended far beyond romance. Bradly? He was just a small detour on her path, a misstep she'd own up to. And now, it was time to set things right. "Next up: a string of bracelet. Fine-grained texture, deep aroma that lingers. Starting bid at 170,000 dollars, with increments of at least 20,000 dollars!" The auctioneer's pumped-up voice echoed through the room. Finally, Stella's main target for the evening. Bids flew in fast, the screen flickering with updates as the auctioneer called out, "Number 17 lady at 200,000 dollars! Number 9 gentleman ups it to 260,000 dollars! Going higher?" Once the initial frenzy tapered off, Stella lifted her paddle. "500,000 dollars." She'd doubled the current bid in one go. It was a hefty amount. Sure, the bracelet was top-notch, but it wasn't the auction's highlight. The room went quiet after her call; no one countered. "Fantastic! Number 11 lady at 500,000 dollars! "500,000 dollars once! 500,000 dollars twice!" The auctioneer hoisted his gavel, poised to bring it down. "No more bids? Then 500,000 dollars—" "520,000 dollars," A gentle, hesitant voice interrupted. Shanna shrank against Bradly's side, paddle in hand, murmuring timidly to him, "Is this where I put in the amount?" Chapter 3 You're Dirty Stella frowned and raised her bid. "540,000 dollars." But Shanna was right behind her, countering with, "560,000 dollars." How annoyingly precise, each time, she stuck to the bare minimum, slapping on just 20,000 dollars more than Stella's offer. Shanna turned toward her, her voice dripping with plea. "Stella, you've got plenty of jewelry already. Please, let me have this one. I adore it. "I'm not like you, born with money, everything handed to you on a silver platter. You snap your fingers and get whatever you want. If it goes any higher, I really won't be able to keep up." Stella didn't bother looking at her, just quirking her lips in a thin smile. "Isn't Mr. Woodard covering the cost for you? What are you stressing about?" Shanna's face went a shade paler, but she answered in that soft, demure tone, "Even so, Mr. Woodard earns his money the hard way. If I can save him a bit, I ought to." She was the epitome of considerate and caring. After several more back-and-forth bids, the bracelet's price had soared to 700,000 dollars. Stella let out a chilly scoff and was opening her mouth to up the ante when Bradly beat her to it. He said, "Babe, why don't we just let Shanna take this bracelet?" Stella's fingers curled into a tight fist, her nails biting into her palm. She lifted her gaze, any lingering warmth in her eyes turning to ice. "What did you just say?" Bradly let out a resigned sigh, giving her hand a comforting pat as he murmured gently, "Babe, I already told Shanna she'd get a gift tonight, and she's got her heart set on this one. No need to compete with her. "Plus, I've already snagged you a handful of other pieces. Isn't that plenty?" He said it all lightly, teasingly, as if it were nothing more than a harmless quip. Stella shut her eyes, a nameless sourness creeping along her nerves, coiling around her heart until it felt like she couldn't draw a breath. Given Shanna's modest background, 700,000 dollars was way out of her league. She wouldn't even make the guest list here on her own. The only reason she was in that seat, trading bids blow for blow, was Bradly's backing. His pampering had delivered her straight into Stella's path. Stella whispered, "What if I refuse to back down?" She hoisted her paddle once more, her voice echoing through the room. "1 million dollars." A hush blanketed the hall. The auctioneer clearly picked up on the drama, his delivery faltering. "Number eleven at 1 million dollars. Do I hear higher?" Shanna's eyes welled up, on the verge of tears, as she cast a helpless look at Bradly before tacking on another fifty thousand. "1 million 20 thousand dollars." Stella's features hardened to frost, and she was poised to fire back when the manager bustled over, bending close to murmur, "Mrs. Woodard, apologies. We ran a credit verification on your account, and it's frozen. Got another one we can use?" The words slammed into her like a bolt from the blue, ringing in her ears. She snapped her head toward Bradly, but he'd already looked away. An icy numbness spread through her arms and legs. She though,t 'Of course, it has to be him.' Her primary account was linked with his; besides her, only he could authorize a freeze on her cards. Triumph flickered in Shanna's eyes as she added with a pointed edge, "Well, in that case, Mrs. Woodard, maybe it's time to step aside. You've got so much already. Can't you let me have this one little thing?" Up on stage, the auction rolled on, the display frozen on Shanna's latest bid: 1 million 20 thousand dollars. Shanna could hardly hide her glee, chirping sweetly, "Go on, call it!" But the words had barely left her lips when someone announced he would bid for the lot at any costs right in the second-floor VIP suite. After a momentary silence, the room burst into chaos. "He's declared absolute intent!" Even the auctioneer's expression changed. He'd been in the game for over a decade, but this was his first encounter with such a scenario. He hurriedly called out, "Lot number six goes to the gentleman in box 217, regardless of how high the price goes." Anyone up in those second-floor VIP suites was either swimming in money or held serious sway in Ostralver's upper crust. Stella glanced upward toward the source of the voice, catching only a vague outline behind the draped curtains. Even when she couldn't see his face, the man's crossed-legged posture radiated an unspoken dominance that pressed down on the room. The auctioneer slammed his gavel down with finality, proclaiming, "Congratulations to our esteemed guest in box 217 on winning lot number six! You're now upgraded to black gold status!" Across all of Ostralver's elite scene, fewer than a handful had ever hit black gold level at these events. Stella wondered, 'Just who is this mystery man?' Stella loosened her clenched fist slightly, torn between relief that her mother's heirloom hadn't landed in Shanna's clutches and anxiety over reclaiming it from this unknown figure. No matter what, she'd stop at nothing, pay any price, to bring her mother's possession home. She rose to her feet, intent on marching over to box 217 for a chat, when the attendant who'd just ducked inside reappeared, tray in hand with the bracelet. "What's this? The bidder in 217 having second thoughts?" "Auctions don't do take-backs." "Probably short on funds. I called it. No one's done this here before." As the murmurs swirled, the attendant headed straight for Stella, dipping into a courteous bow with a warm smile. She said, "Mrs. Woodard, the gentleman in box 217 requests that I deliver the bracelet to you as a gift. He wishes for you to follow your true path and for all to unfold as it should." The place erupted in gossip once more, with guests shooting glances her way, some envious, others skeptical, many flat-out stunned. "Isn't that Mrs. Woodard? What's her deal with the upstairs guy?" "Likely just buttering up Mr. Woodard." "Nah, I don't buy it. Out of all the goodies tonight, why zero in on those beads for Mrs. Woodard? Sounds like she's got a real connection there." The buzz filtered through, and Bradly's face turned stone-cold. In a tight, edged voice, he demanded, "Stella, what's the story with you and whoever's in box 217?" Stella held his piercing stare and said flatly, "I have no idea who he is." "!" Bradly jumped up, clamping down on her wrist like a vice. Her soft, fair skin reddened almost instantly under the pressure. Stella winced sharply, jerking her arm back on reflex. "Bradly, have you lost your mind? Haven't you stirred up enough drama for one day?" But he barreled on, blind to her fury, his reddened eyes locked on her as if he could swallow her up. "What's really between you two? "Stella, through all our married years, I've bent over backward for you. Anything you desired, I served it up without question. Why would you betray me like this?" In his mind, it was already a done deal: she was entangled in something shady with the man above. If the guy was angling for a favor from him, Bradly would've recognized him right away. People in Ostralver didn't beat around the bush when they needed something from him. They came direct. The jab landed raw and direct. Bradly blinked, frozen for a beat as a flicker of alarm shot through his eyes. Chapter 4 Don't Know You'd Come Bradly said, "I'm sorry, Stella. I didn't mean it like that. I had no right getting jealous over you and some stranger. It's all on me." Bradly's eyes reddened. "But honestly, there's nothing going on between Shanna and me. I just brought her along as a thank-you. Can you let this slide?" Seeing his cue, Shanna ducked her head meekly, her voice catching. "That's right, Mrs. Woodard. I've been bending over backward to keep my distance from Mr. Woodard so you wouldn't get the wrong impression. "I'm not asking for the world, just a decent birthday gift. I didn't grow up with your advantages; you've had everything handed to you and even snagged a catch like Mr. Woodard. Can't I at least pick out something for myself?" "Just a gift, huh?" Stella closed in on her, one step at a time. "Ms. Erickson, I've never given a damn about this 'gift' you're going on about. What gets under my skin is you, a Woodard Group employee, crossing lines you have no business crossing." As they drew closer, Bradly instinctively stepped in front of Shanna, his voice soft and coaxing. "Stella, if it's bugging you this much, I'll transfer her to a branch office once the auction's over. "But for now, cut me some slack. Let Shanna have the bracelet. When we get home, name your price on anything, and it's yours." Shanna bobbed her head in agreement, tears glistening on her lashes as she pleaded, "Stella, I really adore this bracelet. You've got it all already. Why go after the one thing I want? "Or is this just because you hate my guts and can't resist taking shots at me?" "What makes you think I'd ever like you?" Stella let out a cold snort. "This belonged to me from the start. Why the hell would I give it up?" She took the bracelet from the attendant with casual ease, her smile sharp but empty. "Ms. Erickson, know your place." Her refusal to budge finally wore through Bradly's patience, erasing every bit of softness from his face. "Stella, do you have to humiliate me like this in front of everyone? Where does that leave my dignity? "It's just a crappy old bracelet. Am I really worth less to you than some trinket?" He said it with such conviction, as if he'd wiped from his memory the solemn vow he'd made when proposing: that he'd hunt down every single one of her mother's sold-off keepsakes, no matter what. Stella's hand flew up, delivering a resounding slap across his cheek. The sharp crack rang out, pulling shocked stares from every corner of the room. Bradly's head snapped sideways, his face livid as he fixed her with a glare, his words hissing through clenched teeth. "Stella, drop the drama already. Have I pampered you too much these days, turning you into this unreasonable nightmare?" Stella reined in her temper, keeping her tone even. "Bradly, you better not live to regret today." Without another word, she turned and walked out, not sparing a backward glance. As her figure receded, Shanna gently touched the angry red mark on Bradly's cheek, her voice full of worry. "Mr. Woodard, are you okay? "Stella's got no boundaries. How could she hit you with all these people watching?" Bradly swatted her hand aside, his nails digging into his palm as he stared after her retreating path. "I've spoiled her rotten, letting her forget that everything she has comes from me." Shanna peeked at his changing expression, testing the waters. "Mr. Woodard, about the bracelet..." Bradly rubbed his throbbing cheek, pulled a bank card from his pocket, and handed it over. "1.7 million dollars on there. Buy whatever catches your eye." Box 217, Stella rapped on the door, eager to thank the mystery bidder face-to-face. Silence. She caught a server walking by. "Excuse me, any idea where the gentleman from this box headed?" "He slipped out right after nabbing the last item," the server said. Disappointment flashed in her eyes, but Stella pressed on, "Do you know who he was?" The server gave her a regretful smile. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard, we're not allowed to spill on our VIPs. Don't make this harder for us." Catching herself, Stella moved out of the way. "Thanks all the same." By the time she made it home from the auction, an hour had ticked by. Stella went straight up to the study, fired up the computer, and dove into the assets registered under her and Bradly's names. After tallying up the numbers, she snatched her phone, found lawyer Rubin Cobb's contact, and hit dial. She said, "I've sorted out the asset division documents for me and Bradly and sent them over. I need you to handle the property split by tomorrow." Rubin quickly received the files and nodded respectfully. "Of course, Mrs. Woodard. I'll get right on it." Stella stared intently at her computer screen, her grip tightening on the mouse. "If Bradly's committed bigamy, how should our assets be divided?" "Generally, any property the bigamous party gained through the bigamy can be claimed back by the other spouse," Rubin replied matter-of-factly. Half of Bradly's current wealth had come from Stella's investments to support his career early on. Her expression darkened, and she promptly forwarded the marriage license between him and Shanna. "Rubin, please use every legal avenue to recover my half of the assets." After hanging up, Stella slumped back in her chair, utterly drained physically and emotionally. She closed her eyes slowly, but sleep was nowhere in sight. Bradly would never agree to a divorce. Until she had everything locked down, she couldn't let on that anything was amiss. Just then, the study door was kicked open from the outside. Bradly flung his jacket onto the desk and yanked Stella up from her seat in front of the computer. "Do you realize that because of your little outburst, I've become a laughingstock in our circles? "What exactly do you want? Are you still obsessing over what happened back then?" Stella opened her eyes slowly, her gaze settling calmly on Bradly, but she remained silent. A fire raged in Bradly's chest, intensifying by the second, and he couldn't hold back his fury any longer. "Since we got married, have I ever done anything to wrong you? I come home right on time every night after work, I always fill you in on any business dinners, and if there's even a hint of a woman involved, I skip them entirely! I've bent over backward, and it's still not good enough for you?" He remembered every detail crystal clear. In his mind, these were the sacrifices he'd made to marry her. Stella suddenly found the whole thing absurd. She couldn't bear to look at him anymore, so she stood up and walked straight out of the study without a backward glance. Behind her, Bradly's voice echoed heavily. "Stella, no matter what you think, my conscience is clear." It felt like Stella's heart had been shattered into icy fragments, a sharp, bitter pain surging through her. Her mind buzzed, and for a moment, all she could hear was that phrase repeating over and over. She thought, 'My conscience is clear? So, in his eyes, everything he's done is perfectly justifiable.' The next morning, when Stella woke up, Bradly was already gone. On the table sat the breakfast he'd prepared, tailored exactly to her tastes. Stella pressed her lips together, her feelings a complicated tangle. They'd ended things on a sour note last night, yet Bradly had still made her breakfast this morning. But this was the same man who'd lied to her for years. No matter what, it was time to end things with Bradly. She didn't touch the food and headed straight to the office. These past few years, she'd stayed out of Bradly's business dealings. A lot of her old financial records were outdated now, and she needed the latest reports. The secretary looked startled when she saw her, then managed to say, "Mrs. Woodard, are you here to see Mr. Woodard?" "No." Stella replied evenly. "Send the finance manager in to see me." Her shares were second only to Bradly's, giving her full access to every aspect of the company. The secretary hesitated briefly before nodding. Stella noticed her immediately turning to make a phone call, probably alerting Bradly. Stella didn't intervene; let her. She settled into the finance office, sipping her coffee absentmindedly while flipping through magazines on the shelf. Most were glossy entertainment rags, mixed in with novels and comics. Stella frowned, only now picking up on the details: the desk was covered in a pink plaid mat, cluttered with adorable plush toys. The standout pair was a set of couple dolls, their outfits emblazoned with the letters W and E. It hit Stella suddenly what that meant, and just then, the door behind her swung open. Shanna rushed in. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard." She was clutching a cup of coffee as she apologized. "I had no idea you'd drop by like this..." Chapter 5 All For Milford Stella arched an eyebrow as she looked her over. "So you're the finance manager?" Shanna nodded with a quick smile. "That's me. If you need anything at all, just say the word. Bradly, well, Mr. Woodard is tied up in a meeting right now. But don't worry, I'll make sure to relay whatever message you have." Stella let out a soft laugh. "No need for that." She regarded Shanna with clear curiosity. "I'm not looking for Bradly. I'm here to see you." Shanna's smile faltered for a moment before she recovered, her tone turning gentle. "Mrs. Woodard, I get that you're still bothered by what went down at the auction last night, but there's no reason to be so worked up about my connection to Mr. Woodard. After all..." She raised her hand, the elegant diamond ring on her finger glinting under the light, perfectly complementing her bashful grin. "I'm already married, and things are great between me and my husband." Stella's eyes locked on the ring, her breath hitching just for an instant. It was ridiculous. In this whole messed-up situation, she was the one playing the role of the mistress. The ring was an exact match for the one Bradly had given her during his proposal. But within seconds, Stella averted her gaze. "It's a lovely ring, but you're mistaken." She spoke unhurriedly, "I'm just here to grab the latest financial report from you. That's all." Stella caught the sour shift in Shanna's expression and smiled to herself. "Seems like you're the one on edge here, Ms. Erickson." Shanna's face transformed completely, that smug spark in her eyes snuffed out. She bit her lip, unable to find words for a long beat. Stella watched her with unruffled poise. "Do I need to repeat my request, Ms. Erickson?" The words had barely left her mouth when Bradly burst in, his expression clouding over at the sight. "Stella, wasn't the scene from last night enough?" His voice was laced with ice. "How long are you planning to drag this out? I've told you already. There's nothing going on between me and Shanna. If you don't believe me..." Stella interrupted him mid-sentence, "Oh, I believe you. Absolutely." A faint smirk tugged at her lips, though her eyes remained frosty as they settled on Shanna. "After all, Ms. Erickson's already married. She just mentioned it herself." The statement landed like a bomb. Shanna's face drained of color, and Bradly's followed suit. He shot her a withering glare. Tears sprang to Shanna's eyes in an instant. Stella had no interest in watching the drama unfold any further. She said evenly, "I'm here for this year's financials. I hold forty percent of the company. Surely I can access that, right?" Bradly seemed to snap back to reality, nodding hastily. "Of course you can." He barked orders at the secretary to fetch it immediately, all the while stealing wary glances at her face. Once he confirmed she wasn't giving anything away, he exhaled almost imperceptibly in relief. He said, "Stella, what's with the sudden interest? You've never bothered with company matters before." Stella answered coolly, "After the account freeze last night, I decided it's smarter to set up a separate one." Bradly's expression froze again. "Stella..." The secretary returned promptly with the report. Stella brushed Bradly aside, skimmed through it quickly, and was heading for the door when he caught her by the wrist. He said, "Stella, about the family dinner tonight, are you coming home with me?" His tone was pleading, like he needed her answer to reassure himself that she hadn't caught on to anything fishy. Stella didn't look back, just replying calmly, "Sure." Bradly's face lit up. "Great, I'll swing by after work to pick you up." Stella dropped her gaze, masking the cool detachment in her eyes. She'd only agreed to head back to the family estate for one specific reason. The marriage license from when she and Bradly had tied the knot was a phony, but he'd made a whole production out of stashing it away at the house, claiming it had to be kept secure. Nothing could serve as stronger proof. Once she got her hands on it, his bigamy would be ironclad. Stella didn't bother waiting for Bradly; she hailed a cab and got there ahead of time. She'd figured it was just a standard family gathering, but she was caught off guard by the full turnout. Bradly's parents, fresh from their overseas vacation last week, were back, and even the distant relatives from the Woodard family's side branches had shown up en masse. "Stella, dear." As she walked in, Nadine Woodard peered over her shoulder. "Bradly didn't come with you?" Stella answered evenly, "He'll be along shortly." Nadine clicked her tongue, her irritation obvious. "On an important occasion like this, letting someone from outside the family arrive solo, what's got into him?" Stella's brow furrowed just a touch. She and Bradly had been engaged since childhood, but after her mother's passing, the Daniels family's status had tanked while the Woodard family kept climbing. That was when Nadine started pushing to scrap the arrangement, and she'd mentioned it more than a few times. But Chuck Woodard was upright and principled, flat-out refusing to play the social-climbing game. With Bradly dead set on marrying her and no one else, Nadine had reluctantly given in, though she made her resentment clear. Even after the marriage, she never passed up an opportunity to give Stella the cold shoulder. She was about to add something else when the butler rushed in and murmured, "He's here." Nadine promptly dropped the subject with Stella and jumped to her feet, the extended family hustling out right behind her to welcome the arrivals. The level of pomp surprised Stella. The Woodard family was already at the top of Ostralver's social elite. For them to pull out all the stops like this... Standing at the edge of the group, Stella glanced up and saw a black Maybach rolling up to the front of the estate. Someone hurried forward to open the door respectfully, and a tall, imposing figure stepped out unhurriedly. The man wore a sleek black suit, his chiseled features sharp, eyes as midnight, radiating a fierce intensity. Every gesture exuded a natural poise and authority that made it tough to hold his stare. The crowd swarmed forward in a rush, but he stayed cool and detached the whole time, his stunningly handsome face as impassive as carved ice, showing zero emotion. Then, as if picking up on something, he looked up toward Stella. Their eyes locked unexpectedly, sending her heart pounding. It was Milford Woodard, Bradly's brother. He'd returned to the country. Though they were brothers in name, Milford wasn't all that tight with the family. He'd headed overseas young and had spent years growing the business abroad. His father Edward Woodard was a total lightweight, good only at spending cash, not earning it. His grandpa Chuck had the smarts and drive, but age was catching up, leaving him unable to manage it all. Real power over the Woodard family had shifted to Milford ages ago. Stella let out a quiet breath. She thought, 'That explains the big crowd today. They've all turned out for Milford.' Chapter 6 Need Help? Stella lingered in the corner of the living room, watching the relatives descend like a swarm of locusts, all scrambling to surround Milford. Bradly stood next to Nadine, flashing a polished smile as he greeted, "Hey, Milford." The uncles who'd been buttering up Bradly just a minute ago quickly switched gears, beaming with over-the-top enthusiasm as they stepped up to say hello. "Milford, what prompted the sudden return?" "Milford, I hear you're in the middle of acquiring a domestic company? You're just getting more impressive by the day." "Come on inside, take a seat. We've got some top-shelf coffee." Bradly caught the stark contrast in the uncles' warmth, his smile fading briefly before he pulled it together and led the way forward. Stella quietly eyed the tall, strikingly handsome Milford striding into the living room like the star of the show, instinctively edging back a step. Now fully pushed to the fringes of the crowd, she shifted aside to let the trailing group pass, doing everything she could to blend into the wallpaper. Milford approached steadily. Unlike Bradly's flashy, outgoing vibe, he had a more brooding, aloof kind of handsomeness, like a pine tree blanketed in snow, regal and intimidating. He acknowledged the flattery around him with simple nods, his eyes scanning the room casually, subtly taking stock of everyone there. Until his gaze swept over Stella again, and he came to an abrupt halt. He paused, causing Bradly to stop too. "Something wrong, Milford?" Milford didn't respond, his steady gaze fixed on Stella. It was only a look, but it jolted her to her core. She felt an odd sense of being claimed, uninvited. Yet she'd barely crossed paths with Milford before. Bradly and the others traced his stare, his eyebrow quirking up. "Stella, come say hi to Big Milford." Stella started to step forward, but Milford beat her to it, walking straight toward her. Bradly and the rest exchanged surprised glances. So far, everyone had been approaching Milford. He hadn't initiated with a soul. Milford's deep eyes gave nothing away. "Stella?" Her breath hitched, like a faint breeze had brushed her ear. She hadn't anticipated him coming over to chat. It had been years, and they'd only met once or twice, but he still remembered her. Stella nodded. "Milford, it's been ages—" Before she could finish, Milford held out his hand. The move was so casual, so natural. Out of pure reflex and politeness, Stella extended hers, their palms connecting. In that brief clasp, she felt him squeeze gently, his thumb settling on her fingers and grazing them with a warm intensity. Milford released after just a second. Suddenly, Bradly sidled up, drawing Stella into his side with an arm around her waist, lacing his fingers through her left hand. He said, "Milford, how long are you in town this time? Stella and I can take you out to dinner one of these days." Milford took in their cozy pose, his glance dropping to their intertwined hands. "About a month." The words had barely left his mouth when Chuck came down the stairs, leaning on the butler for support. Milford headed over to talk with him. Not long after, the kitchen called that the party was ready. Stella trailed Bradly to their seats on the left side of the main table. Everyone filed in and sat. As the eldest branch, the two Woodard brothers took priority. Chuck claimed the head of the main table, with Nadine and Milford next in line. Stella and Bradly fell further down the order, landing her right across from Milford on the diagonal. The family feast got underway, with everyone firing questions at Milford about what he'd been up to lately. Stella kept her head down, nibbling at her food while catching bits of the conversation. Zrester bigwig, major stakeholder in Wonder Group, founder of that financial exchange and the smart transportation AI... Milford's credentials were endless and mind-blowing. She thought back to that Zrester party invite list she'd snagged years ago. Milford was third from the top, while she languished at the bottom. In all these years, she'd had next to no interaction with him. Right after the wedding, this mysterious Milford had only shown up once. He dropped off a gift and vanished. In just a handful of years, Milford had climbed to the pinnacle of Zrester's power players. His talent was obvious. Before long, the family party wound down, and folks scattered to grab desserts. Still hung up on that marriage license, Stella excused herself to head upstairs for a coat change. Bradly was itching to chat with Milford, his gaze fixed that way as he muttered distractedly, "Yeah, go on up." Stella wasted no time hustling upstairs. With the crowd milling about downstairs, she slipped to the third floor of the villa and nudged open Bradly's bedroom door. There it was: the glaring marriage license perched right on top of the nightstand, framed, flanked by their wedding portrait. As she stepped closer, memories of Bradly's cozy moments with Shanna flooded her brain, her nails digging slowly into her palm. That license seared her eyes, like it was sneering at her gullibility. She never should've caved, never should've handed Bradly a second shot. It just went to show that people's hearts circled back for seconds. Disgust flickered in her eyes as she hauled the desk's computer chair over, the kind with wheels and a swivel, shaky at best. She climbed onto it, planting one foot on the bed for stability, teetering just enough to hold steady. Stella hiked up her pearl-white knee-length dress a bit and stretched upward slowly. Fingers extended to the max, but she was still a couple inches shy. She rose onto her tiptoes, straining, but no dice. Frowning from her perch, she scanned around and snagged a book from beside the cabinet. As she leaned down, footsteps suddenly echoed outside the door. Fast, but measured. A man's, for sure. Her pulse spiked. She clutched the table, scrambling to hop down, but, perfect timing, her other sleeve caught on the cabinet's edge. She tugged frantically to break free, but it was too late to descend. The door flew open out of nowhere. Stella went rigid, her knees giving way as she toppled backward off the chair. A quick yelp escaped her, but the expected crash never hit. A firm hand latched precisely onto her thigh, another banding around her waist, hauling her into a solid hold and planting her feet firmly on the floor. She slammed into a warm, toned chest, a crisp, grounding sandalwood aroma enveloping her, not Bradly's scent. Stella glanced up, nearly clipping the guy's chin. Milford let go right away, backing off a step to give her space. Her cheeks burned, the thigh he'd gripped feeling like it was on fire. Mortified and frozen, she stammered, "Th-thanks." Milford stayed composed, his eyes skimming her flushed face and the pinkened patch of skin on her thigh from his hold. His Adam's apple dipped subtly. "Didn't realize you were in here. My bad." Stella shook her head, even more flustered. She was the one imposing on him. Milford flicked a glance upward. "Need some help?" She looked too. Up top, the marriage license screamed for attention. Chapter 7 Don't Let Me Hate You Stella just came out with it. "I want to get the marriage license down." Milford hesitated for a beat, without probing why she needed it, and slid the chair out of the way. Tall and long-limbed, he barely had to tip up on his toes to snag it effortlessly. Milford skimmed the lettering on the license, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes before the faintest quirk tugged at his lips, almost undetectable. He passed it over to Stella. "Ah, I see." She missed the words, taking it with a soft murmur: "Thanks, Milford." Her palms were slick with sweat now, but holding the certificate still sent an icy shiver through her. Those bold letters were a brutal reminder. This whole marriage had been one big joke. From beginning to end, Bradly's grand performance of undying love had always had a third wheel in the shadows. Milford dropped his gaze. Towering over her, all he could make out was the neat swirl at the top of her head, round and oddly appealing. Those slim, pale hands gripped the certificate like a vise, completely bloodless. Milford asked offhandedly, "So, what's the marriage license for?" "Oh, I just want to bring it home and store it there," Stella shot back, pulling an excuse out of thin air. Milford's stare felt like it enveloped her, the heat of it almost scorching, though he kept his hands to himself. Then he casually adjusted his cufflinks and turned to go. Stella let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, sagging against the cool cabinet. Her thigh still tingled with warmth from his grip; she quickly smoothed her skirt down, tucked the license into her bag, and only left the room once everything looked undisturbed. Bradly was still out in the back garden, deep in conversation. Stella kept her face neutral, strolling over to stand at his side. A few relatives were chatting with him. "Hey, word is Milford actually got back a couple days ago, but only tipped us off today." Bradly looked taken aback. "I thought he was flying in today?" "Nope, sounds like he hit up some auction. I only heard bits and pieces, supposedly the other night at the Empire Auction House." "He must not have gone. I was there that evening too, and I didn't see him anywhere," Bradly said, frowning in confusion. Stella's eyelashes flickered subtly, but she played it cool. Out of nowhere, her mind jumped back to that enigmatic bidder in suite 217. She wondered, 'Could Milford be the mystery guest who got the bracelet for me?' She shoved the thought down as soon as it surfaced. They'd only crossed paths once, total strangers really, connected by the flimsiest in-law tie. No matter how you sliced it, Milford wouldn't stick his neck out for her. Just like Bradly said, he hadn't caught wind of anything, so it couldn't be Milford. Stella let it go. After some more mingling, the group started to break up. Bradly steered her over to bid farewell to Milford. "Mom, Milford, we're taking off. Let's set up a family dinner soon when things settle." Milford slouched back in his chair with effortless nonchalance and gave a nod. "I'm knee-deep in an acquisition, no hurry on the get-together. But you..." He lifted his head, his expression sharpening. "Keep your life on the straight and narrow. Don't veer off track." The edge of warning in his voice was crystal clear. Bradly had grown up overshadowed by Milford; he went rigid but brushed it off casually. "Come on, everything's good. My company's running smooth as ever. If you're skeptical, drop by anytime and pore over the financials—knock yourself out." "It's not just about the company," Milford said softly, eyes down as he savored a sip of coffee. Stella couldn't help stealing a glance at him, and in that instant, a ridiculous idea struck her. From what Bradly had mentioned, Milford was abroad most of the time but still had the inside scoop on everything back home. She wondered, 'Does he know about the shady stuff Bradly is up to on the sly?' "Milford, I hear you. I'll make sure to nurture my marriage with Stella, our whole life together." Bradly grinned, threading his fingers through Stella's. Milford's gaze lingered on their joined hands for a second before drifting away, sealed with a subtle nod. Stella had no desire for any more close contact with Bradly, so she subtly shook his hand free without thinking. A split second later, his disbelieving stare locked onto her face, and he tried to grab her again. She'd known her move would humiliate him in the moment, so she didn't bother saying goodbye to Milford. She just turned and walked out ahead. Once they slid into the car, Bradly shed his polite, deferential mask from earlier, reverting to his entitled rich-kid swagger. He tugged his tie loose, a flicker of annoyance pinching his brows. "Always playing the big-brother card to chew me out, same crap since we were little. "So what if he's crushing it overseas? I'm holding my own just fine back home. Who in Ostralver would even think about messing with me?" Bradly fished out a menthol cigarette on autopilot, ready to light up, but he caught himself after glancing at Stella and shoved it back. He said, "All these years, folks have been whispering, or saying it straight to my face, that my company's thriving because of his pull. Like he's behind every damn thing. "And you? You flat-out refused to let me hold your hand back there. Trying to make me look like an idiot in front of him?" His expression iced over, the edge in his voice impossible to miss. Stella's frown deepened as she took it in. Even without knowing Milford all that well, she understood that Bradly's cocky antics in Ostralver, brushing people off like they were nothing, had always been propped up by Milford's clout. She'd assumed the brothers were tight, but clearly Bradly's respect was just for show; underneath, his grudge against Milford simmered deep. She could overlook a lot, but with things the way they were now, there was zero point in him putting on that phony hand-holding act. Stella gripped her bag, the one with the marriage license inside, and couldn't bite her tongue. "We haven't held hands in forever. It feels off to me." The car went dead quiet. She was right. Their physical closeness had dwindled so much that even she couldn't pinpoint the last time. Bradly's brow creased, and he snapped the cigarette filter clean off between his fingers. "What was that?" Stella met his eyes steadily. "From here on out, let's skip the pointless touchy-feely stuff. It just doesn't sit right." She hadn't even finished when the brakes screeched harshly. The car lurched to a halt on the empty shoulder of the road. Stella almost smacked into the window from the force, her pulse hammering as she barked, "Are you out of your mind?" Bradly loomed over her, fingers digging into her chin, irritation boiling in his glare. "Stella, do you have any idea what you're saying?" The pinch stung like crazy, and the absurdity of it all hit her as she wrestled to shove him off. "Is it not true? When's the last time we even held hands. Can you remember?" Bradly's gaze turned stormy, like she'd struck a raw spot. "I bet you're hung up on Milford, just like that girl from the second branch. That's why you pulled away in front of him. You're trying to cut ties with me?" "Bradly! What the hell are you babbling about?" Anger surged through her as she pushed harder. "Don't you dare pin your gross history on me!" The way the family had orbited Milford like he was the sun had obviously gotten under his skin. The more she resisted, the darker his look grew. Abruptly, he leaned in and smashed his mouth against hers. Stella's eyes flew wide, her head whipping aside to evade as she hammered at his shoulders with everything she had. He'd locked lips with Shanna god knows how often. The thought turned her stomach, so she clamped down and bit him hard. Bradly yelped in pain, jerking back as the fog cleared and he clocked what he'd just done, regret flashing across his face. Blood dotted his lip, but he brushed it off, lunging to wrap her in his arms. "I'm sorry, Stella, baby, I'm so sorry. I screwed up; it was a stupid impulse..." Drained of energy, Stella sagged into the passenger seat, letting him hold her while a barren wave of emptiness and revulsion washed over her. The hug she'd once melted into now repulsed her to her core. "Get off me." Her voice came out rough and scratchy. "Bradly, don't push me to hating you."
Chapter 1 Don't Want Him Anymore "I'm sorry, ma'am." On the other end of the line, the insurance customer service rep said coolly, "After checking our records, the car owner, Mr. Woodard, is indeed married, but the spouse listed here isn't you." Stella Daniels had gotten into a car accident on her way to the Woodard Group headquarters. She couldn't get through to Bradly Woodard on his phone, so she had no choice but to call the insurance company. The car was registered in Bradly's name, but as his wife, she should be able to process the claim too. "When Mr. Woodard picked up the car, he came with his wife and provided the original marriage license. Her last name is Erickson, and her full name is Shanna Erickson," the rep said. It hit Stella like a slap in the face. Dizziness washed over her in waves, leaving her whole body shaking uncontrollably. She and Bradly had been childhood sweethearts. Their families were old friends, and everyone in Ostralver's high society knew how clingy he was with her. Bradly couldn't stand being apart from her even for a single day. Three years ago, when Stella headed abroad for her studies, Bradly had the plane stopped just for her. During her three years in Ensland, he expanded his business overseas to make it easier to look after her. Sixteen thousand miles apart, he'd still fly across the ocean every week to see her. The year she came down with a severe lung illness and nearly didn't pull through, she spent a week in intensive care. Bradly ignored the infection risks and stayed right by her side, sliding a ring onto her finger. He said, "If anything happens to you, I'll go with you. We'll be husband and wife in the next life too." For Bradly's sake, she turned down her mentor's offer to stay on in the lab and headed back home. Brimming with excitement, she went to find him, planning to surprise him. But when she pushed open the door to the CEO's office, she saw a slender, pretty woman straddling his lap. The woman's innocent face tilted upward, her voice whiny and aggrieved. "Mr. Woodard, what happens to me now that Stella is back?" Bradly sat in his executive chair, his tall frame looming over her. A flash of ruthlessness crossed his stern features. "You? You're just her stand-in. Don't forget your place." He lifted his hand, pinching her delicate chin with a sneer. "Barely a three-out-of-ten resemblance, and you think you can compare to her?" Stella was still clutching the gift she'd prepared for him. With a loud "bang," it dropped to the floor, finally breaking the scene in the office. Bradly's face drained of color as he shoved the woman off and jumped to his feet. That woman was Shanna. After Stella caught them in the act, Bradly fired Shanna on the spot and pulled out all the stops to win her back. Bradly, the arrogant prince of Ostralver's elite circles, humbled himself to the dust before her, begging her to give him another chance. Any project she set her sights on, he'd drop without a second thought. He stood in the pouring rain outside her building for over a week, just for a glimpse of her. He said, "Stella, I'm not asking you to forgive me. At least let me explain. "I only ever saw Shanna as your replacement. You've been gone abroad for so long; I missed you terribly. I swear, I just kept her around. Nothing more ever happened between us. "That time you walked in, I'd had too much to drink, and she deliberately tempted me. I lost control for a moment... "I've already let her go, and she won't show up in our lives again. Stella, please, come back to me." Back then, Stella couldn't stand even the slightest betrayal. She insisted on breaking off the engagement. Until that one incident. She was kidnapped by a business rival. The kidnappers reneged on the deal, tied her up in an abandoned factory, and set the place ablaze. Bradly charged into the flames without a second thought to rescue her, shielding her from a collapsing steel beam. He ended up gravely injured, confined to bed for nearly six months. By risking his life, Bradly finally melted her resolve. Once he was out of the hospital, she accepted his proposal, and they threw a lavish wedding. In the two years since they tied the knot, he'd treated her just as devotedly as ever, with zero scandals. He even imposed a strict curfew on himself, heading home right on time every day. Even on out-of-town business trips, he'd video call her constantly. His partners would tease him about being henpecked. He never denied it. Instead, he'd grin proudly and say, "A real man takes care of his family." Memories rushed through Stella's mind like a whirlwind, every past moment flashing by in a blur. Her legs buckled, and she dropped to her knees, burying her face in her hands. She couldn't figure out which Bradly was the real one anymore. A bitter, mocking gleam sparked in her eyes. She thought, 'How absurd.' She'd been his wife for two years, and only now was she learning that even their marriage license had been a sham. Stella scrubbed her face hard, her bangs already soaked with cold sweat. She ignored the other driver's furious yelling and calmly dialed the police. They showed up fast. After finishing her statement, Stella left the station under a sky that had gone completely dark. Her phone lit up with several missed calls from Bradly. When she hadn't answered, he'd sent texts instead. Bradly: [Babe, I was tied up in a key meeting this afternoon. Signal jammers were on, so I missed your call. You okay?] Bradly: [I've got a client dinner tonight, so I'll be late getting home. I double-checked: no women involved, so no need to worry.] Bradly: [Head to bed early. Don't wait up. Love you.] Stella stared at the screen, a sharp wave of irony twisting in her gut. Bradly didn't stagger in until the wee hours. He reeked of alcohol, which almost, but not quite, masked the subtle whiff of perfume on him. "Honey..." He could barely keep his balance, stumbling over to wrap his arms around her through the blanket. "I missed you so damn much..." Stella didn't say a word. Only once he was dead to the world did she sit up quietly and unlock his phone with his fingerprint. The thing was squeaky clean, no suspicious traces at all. His contacts were mostly buddies and business folks, with hers pinned at the top as "Darling Wife." Flawlessly tidy, just like their sham of a marriage. Stella hooked the phone up to her computer, and it didn't take long to uncover his second WhatsApp account. She signed in, and right away, messages popped up from a profile with a cute pink kitten avatar, labeled "Baby." Shanna: [Bradly, thanks for tonight. Without you, I wouldn't have known what to do.] Shanna: [I've always thought meeting you was the luckiest thing that's ever happened to me. I won't intrude on your life. As long as you swing by to see me once in a while, that's enough to make me happy.] Stella scrolled back through the history. She'd suspected as much, but seeing it all laid out still hit her like a punch to the chest, leaving her breathless. They chatted nearly every day. Shanna never missed a good morning message, and Bradly's replies had shifted over time, from total silence at first, to sporadic responses, and now to answering every single one. A chill spread through her. Stella clutched the phone tighter, knowing she should quit while she was ahead but unable to stop herself from digging deeper. Shanna: [Bradly, sorry, I had a few drinks and lost it for a bit. Doc says I'm okay now, so don't stress.] Shanna: [Mrs. Woodard's birthday bash is important. Go enjoy it with her. I'll be fine.] Stella squeezed her eyes shut as the memory came rushing back. Her birthday. Bradly had spent over a month planning it down to the last detail, but that day, he was totally distracted. Hell, he almost cut his own hand while slicing the cake. When she'd asked what was up, he'd brushed it off as work drama, told her not to worry, then pulled her into a soft embrace and encouraged her to blow out the candles and make a wish. It all made sense now, as she stared at this chat log. That same day, Shanna had tried to kill herself by slashing her wrists and ended up in the ER. A sour bitterness flooded her chest like a rising tide. In those brief seconds when she'd closed her eyes to wish, she wondered, 'Was he agonizing over Shanna in the hospital, or picturing endless years together with her?' Stella knew she didn't need an answer to that anymore. She gently placed the phone back and looked down at Bradly, fast asleep beside her. She'd known him since she was four, and for the twenty years that followed, she'd truly believed his love was hers alone, irreplaceable. But now she saw it for what it was: just cheap free samples at a store, handed out to anyone who walked by. If that was all it amounted to, she was done with it. Chapter 2 Bid Against Her The next day, Stella woke to find Bradly busy in the kitchen, his broad shoulders narrowing to a slim waist, his tall, lean build moving with purpose. The sight hit her hard, a dull ache tightening in her chest. Bradly had learned to cook entirely for her sake. She still remembered that turbulent period when the Woodard Group was in crisis. His rivals had targeted her, paying off a servant to poison her food. She'd been unconscious for three full days. When she finally woke, Bradly was there, his eyes red-rimmed and veined with exhaustion, gripping her hand like a lifeline. The instant she stirred, the imposing Bradly crumbled forward, enveloping her in a hug as scalding tears fell onto her skin. From then on, Bradly threw himself into cooking lessons, taking charge of all her meals. In less than a month, he'd gone from a spoiled elite who couldn't distinguish spices to turning out dishes worthy of a Michelin chef. Just then, his phone rang. Stella glanced at it but made no move to answer. Bradly darted out of the kitchen, apron still on, grabbing the phone with a barely concealed flash of anxiety. Stella pretended not to notice and went to wash up. When she came back, the table was set with breakfast, and he was slipping into his suit jacket from the coat rack. Seeing her, he said gently, "There's an emergency at work. I have to run. Sorry I can't join you for breakfast." Stella murmured, "Sure, work comes first." He was clearly in a hurry, because he didn't pick up on the new edge of cool distance in her tone and rushed out. She stared blankly after him until he was gone, then dumped the entire spread into the trash. Then she picked up her phone and dialed a number. "That offer you made before? I'm on board." The person on the other end erupted in delight, chattering away before shifting to broken Andosa Language. "Stella, why the sudden change of heart? I've bugged you about this so many times, and you always said you were married now and focusing on family." A mocking glint flickered in Stella's eyes. She thought, 'Married? This so-called marriage has been dead on arrival.' The caller was her former mentor from her overseas studies. He'd reached out lately, hoping she'd join his new team and spearhead a major project. At the time, she'd kept saying no out of loyalty to Bradly. Now, she only wished she'd seen through the absurd joke of their marriage earlier. After the call, she contacted immigration to schedule a passport renewal. It would take about a week. But before heading out, she had one loose end to tie up. That evening, Stella showed up at a private auction at the Cloud Hotel. She was after one of her mother's keepsakes. Her mom had died when she was eight, and soon after, the Daniels family had liquidated her wedding gift. Stella had been hunting down the items ever since. Over the years, she'd only reclaimed a few. Tonight's auction featured a bracelet from that collection, one her mother had picked up on a trip to Ijance. It was utterly unique, irreplaceable. Whatever it took, she was getting it back. Stella settled into her seat just as the auction was about to start. She was flipping through the catalog when Bradly's voice floated over. "Didn't I already pick out that royal blue sapphire set for you? Not good enough?" His voice carried that familiar tenderness. Shanna linked her arm with his, pouting playfully. "Your taste sucks! I want to pick my own birthday gift." Stella watched them quietly until Bradly threaded through the guests and their gazes collided by chance. The color drained from his face. On pure reflex, he jerked his arm away from Shanna. "Stella." He strode over quickly. "I tried calling you a few times, but you didn't answer. Were you planning to surprise me?" Even though he tried to play it cool, she could still catch that subtle hint of panic in his expression. Stella didn't bother calling him on it, replying evenly, "My phone was on silent. I didn't hear it." Bradly visibly relaxed, casually taking her hand in his with a look of concern. "Your hands are like ice. Didn't I warn you about the cold snap today? You're always putting style over staying warm. If you catch a chill, you know it'll just kill me." As he talked, he signaled a server for a blanket and draped it snugly around her shoulders. Stella kept a straight face, brushing him off as she looked past him to Shanna, who lingered behind with a scowl. Shanna nibbled her lip, then defiantly dropped into the seat next to Bradly, her gaze simmering with irritation. Bradly leaned closer, dropping his voice to explain, "We just wrapped up a major project at the company, and Shanna pulled her weight big time. Her birthday's around the corner, so I thought I'd treat her to something as a project bonus." He eyed her anxiously. "Stella, you're not mad, right?" Shanna piped up in a soft, vulnerable tone. "Mrs. Woodard, if this upsets you, I'll just go. I don't want to get in the way of you and Mr. Woodard." Stella's mouth quirked into a smile that never touched her eyes. "We're married. A little thing like this? Of course it doesn't bother me." The auction got underway shortly after. Bradly treated Shanna like she was invisible, focusing entirely on Stella. He paged through the catalog, throwing in bids left and right. "Babe, this would look amazing on you." He grinned, tenderly brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his tone warm and intimate. "You'd be gorgeous in it." Stella averted her eyes, but out of the corner of her vision, she saw Shanna discreetly clutching the edge of Bradly's jacket in the dim light. Their gazes locked for a split second in a shared, lingering look. She masked the derision in her own eyes, struck by how absurd it all was. Bradly seemed totally at ease juggling both women, convinced he was keeping things balanced, one with the official status, the other with his undivided public attention. She thought, 'What could be fairer than that?' But Stella had never been interested in that kind of equilibrium. Her world extended far beyond romance. Bradly? He was just a small detour on her path, a misstep she'd own up to. And now, it was time to set things right. "Next up: a string of bracelet. Fine-grained texture, deep aroma that lingers. Starting bid at 170,000 dollars, with increments of at least 20,000 dollars!" The auctioneer's pumped-up voice echoed through the room. Finally, Stella's main target for the evening. Bids flew in fast, the screen flickering with updates as the auctioneer called out, "Number 17 lady at 200,000 dollars! Number 9 gentleman ups it to 260,000 dollars! Going higher?" Once the initial frenzy tapered off, Stella lifted her paddle. "500,000 dollars." She'd doubled the current bid in one go. It was a hefty amount. Sure, the bracelet was top-notch, but it wasn't the auction's highlight. The room went quiet after her call; no one countered. "Fantastic! Number 11 lady at 500,000 dollars! "500,000 dollars once! 500,000 dollars twice!" The auctioneer hoisted his gavel, poised to bring it down. "No more bids? Then 500,000 dollars—" "520,000 dollars," A gentle, hesitant voice interrupted. Shanna shrank against Bradly's side, paddle in hand, murmuring timidly to him, "Is this where I put in the amount?" Chapter 3 You're Dirty Stella frowned and raised her bid. "540,000 dollars." But Shanna was right behind her, countering with, "560,000 dollars." How annoyingly precise, each time, she stuck to the bare minimum, slapping on just 20,000 dollars more than Stella's offer. Shanna turned toward her, her voice dripping with plea. "Stella, you've got plenty of jewelry already. Please, let me have this one. I adore it. "I'm not like you, born with money, everything handed to you on a silver platter. You snap your fingers and get whatever you want. If it goes any higher, I really won't be able to keep up." Stella didn't bother looking at her, just quirking her lips in a thin smile. "Isn't Mr. Woodard covering the cost for you? What are you stressing about?" Shanna's face went a shade paler, but she answered in that soft, demure tone, "Even so, Mr. Woodard earns his money the hard way. If I can save him a bit, I ought to." She was the epitome of considerate and caring. After several more back-and-forth bids, the bracelet's price had soared to 700,000 dollars. Stella let out a chilly scoff and was opening her mouth to up the ante when Bradly beat her to it. He said, "Babe, why don't we just let Shanna take this bracelet?" Stella's fingers curled into a tight fist, her nails biting into her palm. She lifted her gaze, any lingering warmth in her eyes turning to ice. "What did you just say?" Bradly let out a resigned sigh, giving her hand a comforting pat as he murmured gently, "Babe, I already told Shanna she'd get a gift tonight, and she's got her heart set on this one. No need to compete with her. "Plus, I've already snagged you a handful of other pieces. Isn't that plenty?" He said it all lightly, teasingly, as if it were nothing more than a harmless quip. Stella shut her eyes, a nameless sourness creeping along her nerves, coiling around her heart until it felt like she couldn't draw a breath. Given Shanna's modest background, 700,000 dollars was way out of her league. She wouldn't even make the guest list here on her own. The only reason she was in that seat, trading bids blow for blow, was Bradly's backing. His pampering had delivered her straight into Stella's path. Stella whispered, "What if I refuse to back down?" She hoisted her paddle once more, her voice echoing through the room. "1 million dollars." A hush blanketed the hall. The auctioneer clearly picked up on the drama, his delivery faltering. "Number eleven at 1 million dollars. Do I hear higher?" Shanna's eyes welled up, on the verge of tears, as she cast a helpless look at Bradly before tacking on another fifty thousand. "1 million 20 thousand dollars." Stella's features hardened to frost, and she was poised to fire back when the manager bustled over, bending close to murmur, "Mrs. Woodard, apologies. We ran a credit verification on your account, and it's frozen. Got another one we can use?" The words slammed into her like a bolt from the blue, ringing in her ears. She snapped her head toward Bradly, but he'd already looked away. An icy numbness spread through her arms and legs. She though,t 'Of course, it has to be him.' Her primary account was linked with his; besides her, only he could authorize a freeze on her cards. Triumph flickered in Shanna's eyes as she added with a pointed edge, "Well, in that case, Mrs. Woodard, maybe it's time to step aside. You've got so much already. Can't you let me have this one little thing?" Up on stage, the auction rolled on, the display frozen on Shanna's latest bid: 1 million 20 thousand dollars. Shanna could hardly hide her glee, chirping sweetly, "Go on, call it!" But the words had barely left her lips when someone announced he would bid for the lot at any costs right in the second-floor VIP suite. After a momentary silence, the room burst into chaos. "He's declared absolute intent!" Even the auctioneer's expression changed. He'd been in the game for over a decade, but this was his first encounter with such a scenario. He hurriedly called out, "Lot number six goes to the gentleman in box 217, regardless of how high the price goes." Anyone up in those second-floor VIP suites was either swimming in money or held serious sway in Ostralver's upper crust. Stella glanced upward toward the source of the voice, catching only a vague outline behind the draped curtains. Even when she couldn't see his face, the man's crossed-legged posture radiated an unspoken dominance that pressed down on the room. The auctioneer slammed his gavel down with finality, proclaiming, "Congratulations to our esteemed guest in box 217 on winning lot number six! You're now upgraded to black gold status!" Across all of Ostralver's elite scene, fewer than a handful had ever hit black gold level at these events. Stella wondered, 'Just who is this mystery man?' Stella loosened her clenched fist slightly, torn between relief that her mother's heirloom hadn't landed in Shanna's clutches and anxiety over reclaiming it from this unknown figure. No matter what, she'd stop at nothing, pay any price, to bring her mother's possession home. She rose to her feet, intent on marching over to box 217 for a chat, when the attendant who'd just ducked inside reappeared, tray in hand with the bracelet. "What's this? The bidder in 217 having second thoughts?" "Auctions don't do take-backs." "Probably short on funds. I called it. No one's done this here before." As the murmurs swirled, the attendant headed straight for Stella, dipping into a courteous bow with a warm smile. She said, "Mrs. Woodard, the gentleman in box 217 requests that I deliver the bracelet to you as a gift. He wishes for you to follow your true path and for all to unfold as it should." The place erupted in gossip once more, with guests shooting glances her way, some envious, others skeptical, many flat-out stunned. "Isn't that Mrs. Woodard? What's her deal with the upstairs guy?" "Likely just buttering up Mr. Woodard." "Nah, I don't buy it. Out of all the goodies tonight, why zero in on those beads for Mrs. Woodard? Sounds like she's got a real connection there." The buzz filtered through, and Bradly's face turned stone-cold. In a tight, edged voice, he demanded, "Stella, what's the story with you and whoever's in box 217?" Stella held his piercing stare and said flatly, "I have no idea who he is." "!" Bradly jumped up, clamping down on her wrist like a vice. Her soft, fair skin reddened almost instantly under the pressure. Stella winced sharply, jerking her arm back on reflex. "Bradly, have you lost your mind? Haven't you stirred up enough drama for one day?" But he barreled on, blind to her fury, his reddened eyes locked on her as if he could swallow her up. "What's really between you two? "Stella, through all our married years, I've bent over backward for you. Anything you desired, I served it up without question. Why would you betray me like this?" In his mind, it was already a done deal: she was entangled in something shady with the man above. If the guy was angling for a favor from him, Bradly would've recognized him right away. People in Ostralver didn't beat around the bush when they needed something from him. They came direct. The jab landed raw and direct. Bradly blinked, frozen for a beat as a flicker of alarm shot through his eyes. Chapter 4 Don't Know You'd Come Bradly said, "I'm sorry, Stella. I didn't mean it like that. I had no right getting jealous over you and some stranger. It's all on me." Bradly's eyes reddened. "But honestly, there's nothing going on between Shanna and me. I just brought her along as a thank-you. Can you let this slide?" Seeing his cue, Shanna ducked her head meekly, her voice catching. "That's right, Mrs. Woodard. I've been bending over backward to keep my distance from Mr. Woodard so you wouldn't get the wrong impression. "I'm not asking for the world, just a decent birthday gift. I didn't grow up with your advantages; you've had everything handed to you and even snagged a catch like Mr. Woodard. Can't I at least pick out something for myself?" "Just a gift, huh?" Stella closed in on her, one step at a time. "Ms. Erickson, I've never given a damn about this 'gift' you're going on about. What gets under my skin is you, a Woodard Group employee, crossing lines you have no business crossing." As they drew closer, Bradly instinctively stepped in front of Shanna, his voice soft and coaxing. "Stella, if it's bugging you this much, I'll transfer her to a branch office once the auction's over. "But for now, cut me some slack. Let Shanna have the bracelet. When we get home, name your price on anything, and it's yours." Shanna bobbed her head in agreement, tears glistening on her lashes as she pleaded, "Stella, I really adore this bracelet. You've got it all already. Why go after the one thing I want? "Or is this just because you hate my guts and can't resist taking shots at me?" "What makes you think I'd ever like you?" Stella let out a cold snort. "This belonged to me from the start. Why the hell would I give it up?" She took the bracelet from the attendant with casual ease, her smile sharp but empty. "Ms. Erickson, know your place." Her refusal to budge finally wore through Bradly's patience, erasing every bit of softness from his face. "Stella, do you have to humiliate me like this in front of everyone? Where does that leave my dignity? "It's just a crappy old bracelet. Am I really worth less to you than some trinket?" He said it with such conviction, as if he'd wiped from his memory the solemn vow he'd made when proposing: that he'd hunt down every single one of her mother's sold-off keepsakes, no matter what. Stella's hand flew up, delivering a resounding slap across his cheek. The sharp crack rang out, pulling shocked stares from every corner of the room. Bradly's head snapped sideways, his face livid as he fixed her with a glare, his words hissing through clenched teeth. "Stella, drop the drama already. Have I pampered you too much these days, turning you into this unreasonable nightmare?" Stella reined in her temper, keeping her tone even. "Bradly, you better not live to regret today." Without another word, she turned and walked out, not sparing a backward glance. As her figure receded, Shanna gently touched the angry red mark on Bradly's cheek, her voice full of worry. "Mr. Woodard, are you okay? "Stella's got no boundaries. How could she hit you with all these people watching?" Bradly swatted her hand aside, his nails digging into his palm as he stared after her retreating path. "I've spoiled her rotten, letting her forget that everything she has comes from me." Shanna peeked at his changing expression, testing the waters. "Mr. Woodard, about the bracelet..." Bradly rubbed his throbbing cheek, pulled a bank card from his pocket, and handed it over. "1.7 million dollars on there. Buy whatever catches your eye." Box 217, Stella rapped on the door, eager to thank the mystery bidder face-to-face. Silence. She caught a server walking by. "Excuse me, any idea where the gentleman from this box headed?" "He slipped out right after nabbing the last item," the server said. Disappointment flashed in her eyes, but Stella pressed on, "Do you know who he was?" The server gave her a regretful smile. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard, we're not allowed to spill on our VIPs. Don't make this harder for us." Catching herself, Stella moved out of the way. "Thanks all the same." By the time she made it home from the auction, an hour had ticked by. Stella went straight up to the study, fired up the computer, and dove into the assets registered under her and Bradly's names. After tallying up the numbers, she snatched her phone, found lawyer Rubin Cobb's contact, and hit dial. She said, "I've sorted out the asset division documents for me and Bradly and sent them over. I need you to handle the property split by tomorrow." Rubin quickly received the files and nodded respectfully. "Of course, Mrs. Woodard. I'll get right on it." Stella stared intently at her computer screen, her grip tightening on the mouse. "If Bradly's committed bigamy, how should our assets be divided?" "Generally, any property the bigamous party gained through the bigamy can be claimed back by the other spouse," Rubin replied matter-of-factly. Half of Bradly's current wealth had come from Stella's investments to support his career early on. Her expression darkened, and she promptly forwarded the marriage license between him and Shanna. "Rubin, please use every legal avenue to recover my half of the assets." After hanging up, Stella slumped back in her chair, utterly drained physically and emotionally. She closed her eyes slowly, but sleep was nowhere in sight. Bradly would never agree to a divorce. Until she had everything locked down, she couldn't let on that anything was amiss. Just then, the study door was kicked open from the outside. Bradly flung his jacket onto the desk and yanked Stella up from her seat in front of the computer. "Do you realize that because of your little outburst, I've become a laughingstock in our circles? "What exactly do you want? Are you still obsessing over what happened back then?" Stella opened her eyes slowly, her gaze settling calmly on Bradly, but she remained silent. A fire raged in Bradly's chest, intensifying by the second, and he couldn't hold back his fury any longer. "Since we got married, have I ever done anything to wrong you? I come home right on time every night after work, I always fill you in on any business dinners, and if there's even a hint of a woman involved, I skip them entirely! I've bent over backward, and it's still not good enough for you?" He remembered every detail crystal clear. In his mind, these were the sacrifices he'd made to marry her. Stella suddenly found the whole thing absurd. She couldn't bear to look at him anymore, so she stood up and walked straight out of the study without a backward glance. Behind her, Bradly's voice echoed heavily. "Stella, no matter what you think, my conscience is clear." It felt like Stella's heart had been shattered into icy fragments, a sharp, bitter pain surging through her. Her mind buzzed, and for a moment, all she could hear was that phrase repeating over and over. She thought, 'My conscience is clear? So, in his eyes, everything he's done is perfectly justifiable.' The next morning, when Stella woke up, Bradly was already gone. On the table sat the breakfast he'd prepared, tailored exactly to her tastes. Stella pressed her lips together, her feelings a complicated tangle. They'd ended things on a sour note last night, yet Bradly had still made her breakfast this morning. But this was the same man who'd lied to her for years. No matter what, it was time to end things with Bradly. She didn't touch the food and headed straight to the office. These past few years, she'd stayed out of Bradly's business dealings. A lot of her old financial records were outdated now, and she needed the latest reports. The secretary looked startled when she saw her, then managed to say, "Mrs. Woodard, are you here to see Mr. Woodard?" "No." Stella replied evenly. "Send the finance manager in to see me." Her shares were second only to Bradly's, giving her full access to every aspect of the company. The secretary hesitated briefly before nodding. Stella noticed her immediately turning to make a phone call, probably alerting Bradly. Stella didn't intervene; let her. She settled into the finance office, sipping her coffee absentmindedly while flipping through magazines on the shelf. Most were glossy entertainment rags, mixed in with novels and comics. Stella frowned, only now picking up on the details: the desk was covered in a pink plaid mat, cluttered with adorable plush toys. The standout pair was a set of couple dolls, their outfits emblazoned with the letters W and E. It hit Stella suddenly what that meant, and just then, the door behind her swung open. Shanna rushed in. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard." She was clutching a cup of coffee as she apologized. "I had no idea you'd drop by like this..." Chapter 5 All For Milford Stella arched an eyebrow as she looked her over. "So you're the finance manager?" Shanna nodded with a quick smile. "That's me. If you need anything at all, just say the word. Bradly, well, Mr. Woodard is tied up in a meeting right now. But don't worry, I'll make sure to relay whatever message you have." Stella let out a soft laugh. "No need for that." She regarded Shanna with clear curiosity. "I'm not looking for Bradly. I'm here to see you." Shanna's smile faltered for a moment before she recovered, her tone turning gentle. "Mrs. Woodard, I get that you're still bothered by what went down at the auction last night, but there's no reason to be so worked up about my connection to Mr. Woodard. After all..." She raised her hand, the elegant diamond ring on her finger glinting under the light, perfectly complementing her bashful grin. "I'm already married, and things are great between me and my husband." Stella's eyes locked on the ring, her breath hitching just for an instant. It was ridiculous. In this whole messed-up situation, she was the one playing the role of the mistress. The ring was an exact match for the one Bradly had given her during his proposal. But within seconds, Stella averted her gaze. "It's a lovely ring, but you're mistaken." She spoke unhurriedly, "I'm just here to grab the latest financial report from you. That's all." Stella caught the sour shift in Shanna's expression and smiled to herself. "Seems like you're the one on edge here, Ms. Erickson." Shanna's face transformed completely, that smug spark in her eyes snuffed out. She bit her lip, unable to find words for a long beat. Stella watched her with unruffled poise. "Do I need to repeat my request, Ms. Erickson?" The words had barely left her mouth when Bradly burst in, his expression clouding over at the sight. "Stella, wasn't the scene from last night enough?" His voice was laced with ice. "How long are you planning to drag this out? I've told you already. There's nothing going on between me and Shanna. If you don't believe me..." Stella interrupted him mid-sentence, "Oh, I believe you. Absolutely." A faint smirk tugged at her lips, though her eyes remained frosty as they settled on Shanna. "After all, Ms. Erickson's already married. She just mentioned it herself." The statement landed like a bomb. Shanna's face drained of color, and Bradly's followed suit. He shot her a withering glare. Tears sprang to Shanna's eyes in an instant. Stella had no interest in watching the drama unfold any further. She said evenly, "I'm here for this year's financials. I hold forty percent of the company. Surely I can access that, right?" Bradly seemed to snap back to reality, nodding hastily. "Of course you can." He barked orders at the secretary to fetch it immediately, all the while stealing wary glances at her face. Once he confirmed she wasn't giving anything away, he exhaled almost imperceptibly in relief. He said, "Stella, what's with the sudden interest? You've never bothered with company matters before." Stella answered coolly, "After the account freeze last night, I decided it's smarter to set up a separate one." Bradly's expression froze again. "Stella..." The secretary returned promptly with the report. Stella brushed Bradly aside, skimmed through it quickly, and was heading for the door when he caught her by the wrist. He said, "Stella, about the family dinner tonight, are you coming home with me?" His tone was pleading, like he needed her answer to reassure himself that she hadn't caught on to anything fishy. Stella didn't look back, just replying calmly, "Sure." Bradly's face lit up. "Great, I'll swing by after work to pick you up." Stella dropped her gaze, masking the cool detachment in her eyes. She'd only agreed to head back to the family estate for one specific reason. The marriage license from when she and Bradly had tied the knot was a phony, but he'd made a whole production out of stashing it away at the house, claiming it had to be kept secure. Nothing could serve as stronger proof. Once she got her hands on it, his bigamy would be ironclad. Stella didn't bother waiting for Bradly; she hailed a cab and got there ahead of time. She'd figured it was just a standard family gathering, but she was caught off guard by the full turnout. Bradly's parents, fresh from their overseas vacation last week, were back, and even the distant relatives from the Woodard family's side branches had shown up en masse. "Stella, dear." As she walked in, Nadine Woodard peered over her shoulder. "Bradly didn't come with you?" Stella answered evenly, "He'll be along shortly." Nadine clicked her tongue, her irritation obvious. "On an important occasion like this, letting someone from outside the family arrive solo, what's got into him?" Stella's brow furrowed just a touch. She and Bradly had been engaged since childhood, but after her mother's passing, the Daniels family's status had tanked while the Woodard family kept climbing. That was when Nadine started pushing to scrap the arrangement, and she'd mentioned it more than a few times. But Chuck Woodard was upright and principled, flat-out refusing to play the social-climbing game. With Bradly dead set on marrying her and no one else, Nadine had reluctantly given in, though she made her resentment clear. Even after the marriage, she never passed up an opportunity to give Stella the cold shoulder. She was about to add something else when the butler rushed in and murmured, "He's here." Nadine promptly dropped the subject with Stella and jumped to her feet, the extended family hustling out right behind her to welcome the arrivals. The level of pomp surprised Stella. The Woodard family was already at the top of Ostralver's social elite. For them to pull out all the stops like this... Standing at the edge of the group, Stella glanced up and saw a black Maybach rolling up to the front of the estate. Someone hurried forward to open the door respectfully, and a tall, imposing figure stepped out unhurriedly. The man wore a sleek black suit, his chiseled features sharp, eyes as midnight, radiating a fierce intensity. Every gesture exuded a natural poise and authority that made it tough to hold his stare. The crowd swarmed forward in a rush, but he stayed cool and detached the whole time, his stunningly handsome face as impassive as carved ice, showing zero emotion. Then, as if picking up on something, he looked up toward Stella. Their eyes locked unexpectedly, sending her heart pounding. It was Milford Woodard, Bradly's brother. He'd returned to the country. Though they were brothers in name, Milford wasn't all that tight with the family. He'd headed overseas young and had spent years growing the business abroad. His father Edward Woodard was a total lightweight, good only at spending cash, not earning it. His grandpa Chuck had the smarts and drive, but age was catching up, leaving him unable to manage it all. Real power over the Woodard family had shifted to Milford ages ago. Stella let out a quiet breath. She thought, 'That explains the big crowd today. They've all turned out for Milford.' Chapter 6 Need Help? Stella lingered in the corner of the living room, watching the relatives descend like a swarm of locusts, all scrambling to surround Milford. Bradly stood next to Nadine, flashing a polished smile as he greeted, "Hey, Milford." The uncles who'd been buttering up Bradly just a minute ago quickly switched gears, beaming with over-the-top enthusiasm as they stepped up to say hello. "Milford, what prompted the sudden return?" "Milford, I hear you're in the middle of acquiring a domestic company? You're just getting more impressive by the day." "Come on inside, take a seat. We've got some top-shelf coffee." Bradly caught the stark contrast in the uncles' warmth, his smile fading briefly before he pulled it together and led the way forward. Stella quietly eyed the tall, strikingly handsome Milford striding into the living room like the star of the show, instinctively edging back a step. Now fully pushed to the fringes of the crowd, she shifted aside to let the trailing group pass, doing everything she could to blend into the wallpaper. Milford approached steadily. Unlike Bradly's flashy, outgoing vibe, he had a more brooding, aloof kind of handsomeness, like a pine tree blanketed in snow, regal and intimidating. He acknowledged the flattery around him with simple nods, his eyes scanning the room casually, subtly taking stock of everyone there. Until his gaze swept over Stella again, and he came to an abrupt halt. He paused, causing Bradly to stop too. "Something wrong, Milford?" Milford didn't respond, his steady gaze fixed on Stella. It was only a look, but it jolted her to her core. She felt an odd sense of being claimed, uninvited. Yet she'd barely crossed paths with Milford before. Bradly and the others traced his stare, his eyebrow quirking up. "Stella, come say hi to Big Milford." Stella started to step forward, but Milford beat her to it, walking straight toward her. Bradly and the rest exchanged surprised glances. So far, everyone had been approaching Milford. He hadn't initiated with a soul. Milford's deep eyes gave nothing away. "Stella?" Her breath hitched, like a faint breeze had brushed her ear. She hadn't anticipated him coming over to chat. It had been years, and they'd only met once or twice, but he still remembered her. Stella nodded. "Milford, it's been ages—" Before she could finish, Milford held out his hand. The move was so casual, so natural. Out of pure reflex and politeness, Stella extended hers, their palms connecting. In that brief clasp, she felt him squeeze gently, his thumb settling on her fingers and grazing them with a warm intensity. Milford released after just a second. Suddenly, Bradly sidled up, drawing Stella into his side with an arm around her waist, lacing his fingers through her left hand. He said, "Milford, how long are you in town this time? Stella and I can take you out to dinner one of these days." Milford took in their cozy pose, his glance dropping to their intertwined hands. "About a month." The words had barely left his mouth when Chuck came down the stairs, leaning on the butler for support. Milford headed over to talk with him. Not long after, the kitchen called that the party was ready. Stella trailed Bradly to their seats on the left side of the main table. Everyone filed in and sat. As the eldest branch, the two Woodard brothers took priority. Chuck claimed the head of the main table, with Nadine and Milford next in line. Stella and Bradly fell further down the order, landing her right across from Milford on the diagonal. The family feast got underway, with everyone firing questions at Milford about what he'd been up to lately. Stella kept her head down, nibbling at her food while catching bits of the conversation. Zrester bigwig, major stakeholder in Wonder Group, founder of that financial exchange and the smart transportation AI... Milford's credentials were endless and mind-blowing. She thought back to that Zrester party invite list she'd snagged years ago. Milford was third from the top, while she languished at the bottom. In all these years, she'd had next to no interaction with him. Right after the wedding, this mysterious Milford had only shown up once. He dropped off a gift and vanished. In just a handful of years, Milford had climbed to the pinnacle of Zrester's power players. His talent was obvious. Before long, the family party wound down, and folks scattered to grab desserts. Still hung up on that marriage license, Stella excused herself to head upstairs for a coat change. Bradly was itching to chat with Milford, his gaze fixed that way as he muttered distractedly, "Yeah, go on up." Stella wasted no time hustling upstairs. With the crowd milling about downstairs, she slipped to the third floor of the villa and nudged open Bradly's bedroom door. There it was: the glaring marriage license perched right on top of the nightstand, framed, flanked by their wedding portrait. As she stepped closer, memories of Bradly's cozy moments with Shanna flooded her brain, her nails digging slowly into her palm. That license seared her eyes, like it was sneering at her gullibility. She never should've caved, never should've handed Bradly a second shot. It just went to show that people's hearts circled back for seconds. Disgust flickered in her eyes as she hauled the desk's computer chair over, the kind with wheels and a swivel, shaky at best. She climbed onto it, planting one foot on the bed for stability, teetering just enough to hold steady. Stella hiked up her pearl-white knee-length dress a bit and stretched upward slowly. Fingers extended to the max, but she was still a couple inches shy. She rose onto her tiptoes, straining, but no dice. Frowning from her perch, she scanned around and snagged a book from beside the cabinet. As she leaned down, footsteps suddenly echoed outside the door. Fast, but measured. A man's, for sure. Her pulse spiked. She clutched the table, scrambling to hop down, but, perfect timing, her other sleeve caught on the cabinet's edge. She tugged frantically to break free, but it was too late to descend. The door flew open out of nowhere. Stella went rigid, her knees giving way as she toppled backward off the chair. A quick yelp escaped her, but the expected crash never hit. A firm hand latched precisely onto her thigh, another banding around her waist, hauling her into a solid hold and planting her feet firmly on the floor. She slammed into a warm, toned chest, a crisp, grounding sandalwood aroma enveloping her, not Bradly's scent. Stella glanced up, nearly clipping the guy's chin. Milford let go right away, backing off a step to give her space. Her cheeks burned, the thigh he'd gripped feeling like it was on fire. Mortified and frozen, she stammered, "Th-thanks." Milford stayed composed, his eyes skimming her flushed face and the pinkened patch of skin on her thigh from his hold. His Adam's apple dipped subtly. "Didn't realize you were in here. My bad." Stella shook her head, even more flustered. She was the one imposing on him. Milford flicked a glance upward. "Need some help?" She looked too. Up top, the marriage license screamed for attention. Chapter 7 Don't Let Me Hate You Stella just came out with it. "I want to get the marriage license down." Milford hesitated for a beat, without probing why she needed it, and slid the chair out of the way. Tall and long-limbed, he barely had to tip up on his toes to snag it effortlessly. Milford skimmed the lettering on the license, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes before the faintest quirk tugged at his lips, almost undetectable. He passed it over to Stella. "Ah, I see." She missed the words, taking it with a soft murmur: "Thanks, Milford." Her palms were slick with sweat now, but holding the certificate still sent an icy shiver through her. Those bold letters were a brutal reminder. This whole marriage had been one big joke. From beginning to end, Bradly's grand performance of undying love had always had a third wheel in the shadows. Milford dropped his gaze. Towering over her, all he could make out was the neat swirl at the top of her head, round and oddly appealing. Those slim, pale hands gripped the certificate like a vise, completely bloodless. Milford asked offhandedly, "So, what's the marriage license for?" "Oh, I just want to bring it home and store it there," Stella shot back, pulling an excuse out of thin air. Milford's stare felt like it enveloped her, the heat of it almost scorching, though he kept his hands to himself. Then he casually adjusted his cufflinks and turned to go. Stella let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, sagging against the cool cabinet. Her thigh still tingled with warmth from his grip; she quickly smoothed her skirt down, tucked the license into her bag, and only left the room once everything looked undisturbed. Bradly was still out in the back garden, deep in conversation. Stella kept her face neutral, strolling over to stand at his side. A few relatives were chatting with him. "Hey, word is Milford actually got back a couple days ago, but only tipped us off today." Bradly looked taken aback. "I thought he was flying in today?" "Nope, sounds like he hit up some auction. I only heard bits and pieces, supposedly the other night at the Empire Auction House." "He must not have gone. I was there that evening too, and I didn't see him anywhere," Bradly said, frowning in confusion. Stella's eyelashes flickered subtly, but she played it cool. Out of nowhere, her mind jumped back to that enigmatic bidder in suite 217. She wondered, 'Could Milford be the mystery guest who got the bracelet for me?' She shoved the thought down as soon as it surfaced. They'd only crossed paths once, total strangers really, connected by the flimsiest in-law tie. No matter how you sliced it, Milford wouldn't stick his neck out for her. Just like Bradly said, he hadn't caught wind of anything, so it couldn't be Milford. Stella let it go. After some more mingling, the group started to break up. Bradly steered her over to bid farewell to Milford. "Mom, Milford, we're taking off. Let's set up a family dinner soon when things settle." Milford slouched back in his chair with effortless nonchalance and gave a nod. "I'm knee-deep in an acquisition, no hurry on the get-together. But you..." He lifted his head, his expression sharpening. "Keep your life on the straight and narrow. Don't veer off track." The edge of warning in his voice was crystal clear. Bradly had grown up overshadowed by Milford; he went rigid but brushed it off casually. "Come on, everything's good. My company's running smooth as ever. If you're skeptical, drop by anytime and pore over the financials—knock yourself out." "It's not just about the company," Milford said softly, eyes down as he savored a sip of coffee. Stella couldn't help stealing a glance at him, and in that instant, a ridiculous idea struck her. From what Bradly had mentioned, Milford was abroad most of the time but still had the inside scoop on everything back home. She wondered, 'Does he know about the shady stuff Bradly is up to on the sly?' "Milford, I hear you. I'll make sure to nurture my marriage with Stella, our whole life together." Bradly grinned, threading his fingers through Stella's. Milford's gaze lingered on their joined hands for a second before drifting away, sealed with a subtle nod. Stella had no desire for any more close contact with Bradly, so she subtly shook his hand free without thinking. A split second later, his disbelieving stare locked onto her face, and he tried to grab her again. She'd known her move would humiliate him in the moment, so she didn't bother saying goodbye to Milford. She just turned and walked out ahead. Once they slid into the car, Bradly shed his polite, deferential mask from earlier, reverting to his entitled rich-kid swagger. He tugged his tie loose, a flicker of annoyance pinching his brows. "Always playing the big-brother card to chew me out, same crap since we were little. "So what if he's crushing it overseas? I'm holding my own just fine back home. Who in Ostralver would even think about messing with me?" Bradly fished out a menthol cigarette on autopilot, ready to light up, but he caught himself after glancing at Stella and shoved it back. He said, "All these years, folks have been whispering, or saying it straight to my face, that my company's thriving because of his pull. Like he's behind every damn thing. "And you? You flat-out refused to let me hold your hand back there. Trying to make me look like an idiot in front of him?" His expression iced over, the edge in his voice impossible to miss. Stella's frown deepened as she took it in. Even without knowing Milford all that well, she understood that Bradly's cocky antics in Ostralver, brushing people off like they were nothing, had always been propped up by Milford's clout. She'd assumed the brothers were tight, but clearly Bradly's respect was just for show; underneath, his grudge against Milford simmered deep. She could overlook a lot, but with things the way they were now, there was zero point in him putting on that phony hand-holding act. Stella gripped her bag, the one with the marriage license inside, and couldn't bite her tongue. "We haven't held hands in forever. It feels off to me." The car went dead quiet. She was right. Their physical closeness had dwindled so much that even she couldn't pinpoint the last time. Bradly's brow creased, and he snapped the cigarette filter clean off between his fingers. "What was that?" Stella met his eyes steadily. "From here on out, let's skip the pointless touchy-feely stuff. It just doesn't sit right." She hadn't even finished when the brakes screeched harshly. The car lurched to a halt on the empty shoulder of the road. Stella almost smacked into the window from the force, her pulse hammering as she barked, "Are you out of your mind?" Bradly loomed over her, fingers digging into her chin, irritation boiling in his glare. "Stella, do you have any idea what you're saying?" The pinch stung like crazy, and the absurdity of it all hit her as she wrestled to shove him off. "Is it not true? When's the last time we even held hands. Can you remember?" Bradly's gaze turned stormy, like she'd struck a raw spot. "I bet you're hung up on Milford, just like that girl from the second branch. That's why you pulled away in front of him. You're trying to cut ties with me?" "Bradly! What the hell are you babbling about?" Anger surged through her as she pushed harder. "Don't you dare pin your gross history on me!" The way the family had orbited Milford like he was the sun had obviously gotten under his skin. The more she resisted, the darker his look grew. Abruptly, he leaned in and smashed his mouth against hers. Stella's eyes flew wide, her head whipping aside to evade as she hammered at his shoulders with everything she had. He'd locked lips with Shanna god knows how often. The thought turned her stomach, so she clamped down and bit him hard. Bradly yelped in pain, jerking back as the fog cleared and he clocked what he'd just done, regret flashing across his face. Blood dotted his lip, but he brushed it off, lunging to wrap her in his arms. "I'm sorry, Stella, baby, I'm so sorry. I screwed up; it was a stupid impulse..." Drained of energy, Stella sagged into the passenger seat, letting him hold her while a barren wave of emptiness and revulsion washed over her. The hug she'd once melted into now repulsed her to her core. "Get off me." Her voice came out rough and scratchy. "Bradly, don't push me to hating you."
Chapter 1 Don't Want Him Anymore "I'm sorry, ma'am." On the other end of the line, the insurance customer service rep said coolly, "After checking our records, the car owner, Mr. Woodard, is indeed married, but the spouse listed here isn't you." Stella Daniels had gotten into a car accident on her way to the Woodard Group headquarters. She couldn't get through to Bradly Woodard on his phone, so she had no choice but to call the insurance company. The car was registered in Bradly's name, but as his wife, she should be able to process the claim too. "When Mr. Woodard picked up the car, he came with his wife and provided the original marriage license. Her last name is Erickson, and her full name is Shanna Erickson," the rep said. It hit Stella like a slap in the face. Dizziness washed over her in waves, leaving her whole body shaking uncontrollably. She and Bradly had been childhood sweethearts. Their families were old friends, and everyone in Ostralver's high society knew how clingy he was with her. Bradly couldn't stand being apart from her even for a single day. Three years ago, when Stella headed abroad for her studies, Bradly had the plane stopped just for her. During her three years in Ensland, he expanded his business overseas to make it easier to look after her. Sixteen thousand miles apart, he'd still fly across the ocean every week to see her. The year she came down with a severe lung illness and nearly didn't pull through, she spent a week in intensive care. Bradly ignored the infection risks and stayed right by her side, sliding a ring onto her finger. He said, "If anything happens to you, I'll go with you. We'll be husband and wife in the next life too." For Bradly's sake, she turned down her mentor's offer to stay on in the lab and headed back home. Brimming with excitement, she went to find him, planning to surprise him. But when she pushed open the door to the CEO's office, she saw a slender, pretty woman straddling his lap. The woman's innocent face tilted upward, her voice whiny and aggrieved. "Mr. Woodard, what happens to me now that Stella is back?" Bradly sat in his executive chair, his tall frame looming over her. A flash of ruthlessness crossed his stern features. "You? You're just her stand-in. Don't forget your place." He lifted his hand, pinching her delicate chin with a sneer. "Barely a three-out-of-ten resemblance, and you think you can compare to her?" Stella was still clutching the gift she'd prepared for him. With a loud "bang," it dropped to the floor, finally breaking the scene in the office. Bradly's face drained of color as he shoved the woman off and jumped to his feet. That woman was Shanna. After Stella caught them in the act, Bradly fired Shanna on the spot and pulled out all the stops to win her back. Bradly, the arrogant prince of Ostralver's elite circles, humbled himself to the dust before her, begging her to give him another chance. Any project she set her sights on, he'd drop without a second thought. He stood in the pouring rain outside her building for over a week, just for a glimpse of her. He said, "Stella, I'm not asking you to forgive me. At least let me explain. "I only ever saw Shanna as your replacement. You've been gone abroad for so long; I missed you terribly. I swear, I just kept her around. Nothing more ever happened between us. "That time you walked in, I'd had too much to drink, and she deliberately tempted me. I lost control for a moment... "I've already let her go, and she won't show up in our lives again. Stella, please, come back to me." Back then, Stella couldn't stand even the slightest betrayal. She insisted on breaking off the engagement. Until that one incident. She was kidnapped by a business rival. The kidnappers reneged on the deal, tied her up in an abandoned factory, and set the place ablaze. Bradly charged into the flames without a second thought to rescue her, shielding her from a collapsing steel beam. He ended up gravely injured, confined to bed for nearly six months. By risking his life, Bradly finally melted her resolve. Once he was out of the hospital, she accepted his proposal, and they threw a lavish wedding. In the two years since they tied the knot, he'd treated her just as devotedly as ever, with zero scandals. He even imposed a strict curfew on himself, heading home right on time every day. Even on out-of-town business trips, he'd video call her constantly. His partners would tease him about being henpecked. He never denied it. Instead, he'd grin proudly and say, "A real man takes care of his family." Memories rushed through Stella's mind like a whirlwind, every past moment flashing by in a blur. Her legs buckled, and she dropped to her knees, burying her face in her hands. She couldn't figure out which Bradly was the real one anymore. A bitter, mocking gleam sparked in her eyes. She thought, 'How absurd.' She'd been his wife for two years, and only now was she learning that even their marriage license had been a sham. Stella scrubbed her face hard, her bangs already soaked with cold sweat. She ignored the other driver's furious yelling and calmly dialed the police. They showed up fast. After finishing her statement, Stella left the station under a sky that had gone completely dark. Her phone lit up with several missed calls from Bradly. When she hadn't answered, he'd sent texts instead. Bradly: [Babe, I was tied up in a key meeting this afternoon. Signal jammers were on, so I missed your call. You okay?] Bradly: [I've got a client dinner tonight, so I'll be late getting home. I double-checked: no women involved, so no need to worry.] Bradly: [Head to bed early. Don't wait up. Love you.] Stella stared at the screen, a sharp wave of irony twisting in her gut. Bradly didn't stagger in until the wee hours. He reeked of alcohol, which almost, but not quite, masked the subtle whiff of perfume on him. "Honey..." He could barely keep his balance, stumbling over to wrap his arms around her through the blanket. "I missed you so damn much..." Stella didn't say a word. Only once he was dead to the world did she sit up quietly and unlock his phone with his fingerprint. The thing was squeaky clean, no suspicious traces at all. His contacts were mostly buddies and business folks, with hers pinned at the top as "Darling Wife." Flawlessly tidy, just like their sham of a marriage. Stella hooked the phone up to her computer, and it didn't take long to uncover his second WhatsApp account. She signed in, and right away, messages popped up from a profile with a cute pink kitten avatar, labeled "Baby." Shanna: [Bradly, thanks for tonight. Without you, I wouldn't have known what to do.] Shanna: [I've always thought meeting you was the luckiest thing that's ever happened to me. I won't intrude on your life. As long as you swing by to see me once in a while, that's enough to make me happy.] Stella scrolled back through the history. She'd suspected as much, but seeing it all laid out still hit her like a punch to the chest, leaving her breathless. They chatted nearly every day. Shanna never missed a good morning message, and Bradly's replies had shifted over time, from total silence at first, to sporadic responses, and now to answering every single one. A chill spread through her. Stella clutched the phone tighter, knowing she should quit while she was ahead but unable to stop herself from digging deeper. Shanna: [Bradly, sorry, I had a few drinks and lost it for a bit. Doc says I'm okay now, so don't stress.] Shanna: [Mrs. Woodard's birthday bash is important. Go enjoy it with her. I'll be fine.] Stella squeezed her eyes shut as the memory came rushing back. Her birthday. Bradly had spent over a month planning it down to the last detail, but that day, he was totally distracted. Hell, he almost cut his own hand while slicing the cake. When she'd asked what was up, he'd brushed it off as work drama, told her not to worry, then pulled her into a soft embrace and encouraged her to blow out the candles and make a wish. It all made sense now, as she stared at this chat log. That same day, Shanna had tried to kill herself by slashing her wrists and ended up in the ER. A sour bitterness flooded her chest like a rising tide. In those brief seconds when she'd closed her eyes to wish, she wondered, 'Was he agonizing over Shanna in the hospital, or picturing endless years together with her?' Stella knew she didn't need an answer to that anymore. She gently placed the phone back and looked down at Bradly, fast asleep beside her. She'd known him since she was four, and for the twenty years that followed, she'd truly believed his love was hers alone, irreplaceable. But now she saw it for what it was: just cheap free samples at a store, handed out to anyone who walked by. If that was all it amounted to, she was done with it. Chapter 2 Bid Against Her The next day, Stella woke to find Bradly busy in the kitchen, his broad shoulders narrowing to a slim waist, his tall, lean build moving with purpose. The sight hit her hard, a dull ache tightening in her chest. Bradly had learned to cook entirely for her sake. She still remembered that turbulent period when the Woodard Group was in crisis. His rivals had targeted her, paying off a servant to poison her food. She'd been unconscious for three full days. When she finally woke, Bradly was there, his eyes red-rimmed and veined with exhaustion, gripping her hand like a lifeline. The instant she stirred, the imposing Bradly crumbled forward, enveloping her in a hug as scalding tears fell onto her skin. From then on, Bradly threw himself into cooking lessons, taking charge of all her meals. In less than a month, he'd gone from a spoiled elite who couldn't distinguish spices to turning out dishes worthy of a Michelin chef. Just then, his phone rang. Stella glanced at it but made no move to answer. Bradly darted out of the kitchen, apron still on, grabbing the phone with a barely concealed flash of anxiety. Stella pretended not to notice and went to wash up. When she came back, the table was set with breakfast, and he was slipping into his suit jacket from the coat rack. Seeing her, he said gently, "There's an emergency at work. I have to run. Sorry I can't join you for breakfast." Stella murmured, "Sure, work comes first." He was clearly in a hurry, because he didn't pick up on the new edge of cool distance in her tone and rushed out. She stared blankly after him until he was gone, then dumped the entire spread into the trash. Then she picked up her phone and dialed a number. "That offer you made before? I'm on board." The person on the other end erupted in delight, chattering away before shifting to broken Andosa Language. "Stella, why the sudden change of heart? I've bugged you about this so many times, and you always said you were married now and focusing on family." A mocking glint flickered in Stella's eyes. She thought, 'Married? This so-called marriage has been dead on arrival.' The caller was her former mentor from her overseas studies. He'd reached out lately, hoping she'd join his new team and spearhead a major project. At the time, she'd kept saying no out of loyalty to Bradly. Now, she only wished she'd seen through the absurd joke of their marriage earlier. After the call, she contacted immigration to schedule a passport renewal. It would take about a week. But before heading out, she had one loose end to tie up. That evening, Stella showed up at a private auction at the Cloud Hotel. She was after one of her mother's keepsakes. Her mom had died when she was eight, and soon after, the Daniels family had liquidated her wedding gift. Stella had been hunting down the items ever since. Over the years, she'd only reclaimed a few. Tonight's auction featured a bracelet from that collection, one her mother had picked up on a trip to Ijance. It was utterly unique, irreplaceable. Whatever it took, she was getting it back. Stella settled into her seat just as the auction was about to start. She was flipping through the catalog when Bradly's voice floated over. "Didn't I already pick out that royal blue sapphire set for you? Not good enough?" His voice carried that familiar tenderness. Shanna linked her arm with his, pouting playfully. "Your taste sucks! I want to pick my own birthday gift." Stella watched them quietly until Bradly threaded through the guests and their gazes collided by chance. The color drained from his face. On pure reflex, he jerked his arm away from Shanna. "Stella." He strode over quickly. "I tried calling you a few times, but you didn't answer. Were you planning to surprise me?" Even though he tried to play it cool, she could still catch that subtle hint of panic in his expression. Stella didn't bother calling him on it, replying evenly, "My phone was on silent. I didn't hear it." Bradly visibly relaxed, casually taking her hand in his with a look of concern. "Your hands are like ice. Didn't I warn you about the cold snap today? You're always putting style over staying warm. If you catch a chill, you know it'll just kill me." As he talked, he signaled a server for a blanket and draped it snugly around her shoulders. Stella kept a straight face, brushing him off as she looked past him to Shanna, who lingered behind with a scowl. Shanna nibbled her lip, then defiantly dropped into the seat next to Bradly, her gaze simmering with irritation. Bradly leaned closer, dropping his voice to explain, "We just wrapped up a major project at the company, and Shanna pulled her weight big time. Her birthday's around the corner, so I thought I'd treat her to something as a project bonus." He eyed her anxiously. "Stella, you're not mad, right?" Shanna piped up in a soft, vulnerable tone. "Mrs. Woodard, if this upsets you, I'll just go. I don't want to get in the way of you and Mr. Woodard." Stella's mouth quirked into a smile that never touched her eyes. "We're married. A little thing like this? Of course it doesn't bother me." The auction got underway shortly after. Bradly treated Shanna like she was invisible, focusing entirely on Stella. He paged through the catalog, throwing in bids left and right. "Babe, this would look amazing on you." He grinned, tenderly brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his tone warm and intimate. "You'd be gorgeous in it." Stella averted her eyes, but out of the corner of her vision, she saw Shanna discreetly clutching the edge of Bradly's jacket in the dim light. Their gazes locked for a split second in a shared, lingering look. She masked the derision in her own eyes, struck by how absurd it all was. Bradly seemed totally at ease juggling both women, convinced he was keeping things balanced, one with the official status, the other with his undivided public attention. She thought, 'What could be fairer than that?' But Stella had never been interested in that kind of equilibrium. Her world extended far beyond romance. Bradly? He was just a small detour on her path, a misstep she'd own up to. And now, it was time to set things right. "Next up: a string of bracelet. Fine-grained texture, deep aroma that lingers. Starting bid at 170,000 dollars, with increments of at least 20,000 dollars!" The auctioneer's pumped-up voice echoed through the room. Finally, Stella's main target for the evening. Bids flew in fast, the screen flickering with updates as the auctioneer called out, "Number 17 lady at 200,000 dollars! Number 9 gentleman ups it to 260,000 dollars! Going higher?" Once the initial frenzy tapered off, Stella lifted her paddle. "500,000 dollars." She'd doubled the current bid in one go. It was a hefty amount. Sure, the bracelet was top-notch, but it wasn't the auction's highlight. The room went quiet after her call; no one countered. "Fantastic! Number 11 lady at 500,000 dollars! "500,000 dollars once! 500,000 dollars twice!" The auctioneer hoisted his gavel, poised to bring it down. "No more bids? Then 500,000 dollars—" "520,000 dollars," A gentle, hesitant voice interrupted. Shanna shrank against Bradly's side, paddle in hand, murmuring timidly to him, "Is this where I put in the amount?" Chapter 3 You're Dirty Stella frowned and raised her bid. "540,000 dollars." But Shanna was right behind her, countering with, "560,000 dollars." How annoyingly precise, each time, she stuck to the bare minimum, slapping on just 20,000 dollars more than Stella's offer. Shanna turned toward her, her voice dripping with plea. "Stella, you've got plenty of jewelry already. Please, let me have this one. I adore it. "I'm not like you, born with money, everything handed to you on a silver platter. You snap your fingers and get whatever you want. If it goes any higher, I really won't be able to keep up." Stella didn't bother looking at her, just quirking her lips in a thin smile. "Isn't Mr. Woodard covering the cost for you? What are you stressing about?" Shanna's face went a shade paler, but she answered in that soft, demure tone, "Even so, Mr. Woodard earns his money the hard way. If I can save him a bit, I ought to." She was the epitome of considerate and caring. After several more back-and-forth bids, the bracelet's price had soared to 700,000 dollars. Stella let out a chilly scoff and was opening her mouth to up the ante when Bradly beat her to it. He said, "Babe, why don't we just let Shanna take this bracelet?" Stella's fingers curled into a tight fist, her nails biting into her palm. She lifted her gaze, any lingering warmth in her eyes turning to ice. "What did you just say?" Bradly let out a resigned sigh, giving her hand a comforting pat as he murmured gently, "Babe, I already told Shanna she'd get a gift tonight, and she's got her heart set on this one. No need to compete with her. "Plus, I've already snagged you a handful of other pieces. Isn't that plenty?" He said it all lightly, teasingly, as if it were nothing more than a harmless quip. Stella shut her eyes, a nameless sourness creeping along her nerves, coiling around her heart until it felt like she couldn't draw a breath. Given Shanna's modest background, 700,000 dollars was way out of her league. She wouldn't even make the guest list here on her own. The only reason she was in that seat, trading bids blow for blow, was Bradly's backing. His pampering had delivered her straight into Stella's path. Stella whispered, "What if I refuse to back down?" She hoisted her paddle once more, her voice echoing through the room. "1 million dollars." A hush blanketed the hall. The auctioneer clearly picked up on the drama, his delivery faltering. "Number eleven at 1 million dollars. Do I hear higher?" Shanna's eyes welled up, on the verge of tears, as she cast a helpless look at Bradly before tacking on another fifty thousand. "1 million 20 thousand dollars." Stella's features hardened to frost, and she was poised to fire back when the manager bustled over, bending close to murmur, "Mrs. Woodard, apologies. We ran a credit verification on your account, and it's frozen. Got another one we can use?" The words slammed into her like a bolt from the blue, ringing in her ears. She snapped her head toward Bradly, but he'd already looked away. An icy numbness spread through her arms and legs. She though,t 'Of course, it has to be him.' Her primary account was linked with his; besides her, only he could authorize a freeze on her cards. Triumph flickered in Shanna's eyes as she added with a pointed edge, "Well, in that case, Mrs. Woodard, maybe it's time to step aside. You've got so much already. Can't you let me have this one little thing?" Up on stage, the auction rolled on, the display frozen on Shanna's latest bid: 1 million 20 thousand dollars. Shanna could hardly hide her glee, chirping sweetly, "Go on, call it!" But the words had barely left her lips when someone announced he would bid for the lot at any costs right in the second-floor VIP suite. After a momentary silence, the room burst into chaos. "He's declared absolute intent!" Even the auctioneer's expression changed. He'd been in the game for over a decade, but this was his first encounter with such a scenario. He hurriedly called out, "Lot number six goes to the gentleman in box 217, regardless of how high the price goes." Anyone up in those second-floor VIP suites was either swimming in money or held serious sway in Ostralver's upper crust. Stella glanced upward toward the source of the voice, catching only a vague outline behind the draped curtains. Even when she couldn't see his face, the man's crossed-legged posture radiated an unspoken dominance that pressed down on the room. The auctioneer slammed his gavel down with finality, proclaiming, "Congratulations to our esteemed guest in box 217 on winning lot number six! You're now upgraded to black gold status!" Across all of Ostralver's elite scene, fewer than a handful had ever hit black gold level at these events. Stella wondered, 'Just who is this mystery man?' Stella loosened her clenched fist slightly, torn between relief that her mother's heirloom hadn't landed in Shanna's clutches and anxiety over reclaiming it from this unknown figure. No matter what, she'd stop at nothing, pay any price, to bring her mother's possession home. She rose to her feet, intent on marching over to box 217 for a chat, when the attendant who'd just ducked inside reappeared, tray in hand with the bracelet. "What's this? The bidder in 217 having second thoughts?" "Auctions don't do take-backs." "Probably short on funds. I called it. No one's done this here before." As the murmurs swirled, the attendant headed straight for Stella, dipping into a courteous bow with a warm smile. She said, "Mrs. Woodard, the gentleman in box 217 requests that I deliver the bracelet to you as a gift. He wishes for you to follow your true path and for all to unfold as it should." The place erupted in gossip once more, with guests shooting glances her way, some envious, others skeptical, many flat-out stunned. "Isn't that Mrs. Woodard? What's her deal with the upstairs guy?" "Likely just buttering up Mr. Woodard." "Nah, I don't buy it. Out of all the goodies tonight, why zero in on those beads for Mrs. Woodard? Sounds like she's got a real connection there." The buzz filtered through, and Bradly's face turned stone-cold. In a tight, edged voice, he demanded, "Stella, what's the story with you and whoever's in box 217?" Stella held his piercing stare and said flatly, "I have no idea who he is." "!" Bradly jumped up, clamping down on her wrist like a vice. Her soft, fair skin reddened almost instantly under the pressure. Stella winced sharply, jerking her arm back on reflex. "Bradly, have you lost your mind? Haven't you stirred up enough drama for one day?" But he barreled on, blind to her fury, his reddened eyes locked on her as if he could swallow her up. "What's really between you two? "Stella, through all our married years, I've bent over backward for you. Anything you desired, I served it up without question. Why would you betray me like this?" In his mind, it was already a done deal: she was entangled in something shady with the man above. If the guy was angling for a favor from him, Bradly would've recognized him right away. People in Ostralver didn't beat around the bush when they needed something from him. They came direct. The jab landed raw and direct. Bradly blinked, frozen for a beat as a flicker of alarm shot through his eyes. Chapter 4 Don't Know You'd Come Bradly said, "I'm sorry, Stella. I didn't mean it like that. I had no right getting jealous over you and some stranger. It's all on me." Bradly's eyes reddened. "But honestly, there's nothing going on between Shanna and me. I just brought her along as a thank-you. Can you let this slide?" Seeing his cue, Shanna ducked her head meekly, her voice catching. "That's right, Mrs. Woodard. I've been bending over backward to keep my distance from Mr. Woodard so you wouldn't get the wrong impression. "I'm not asking for the world, just a decent birthday gift. I didn't grow up with your advantages; you've had everything handed to you and even snagged a catch like Mr. Woodard. Can't I at least pick out something for myself?" "Just a gift, huh?" Stella closed in on her, one step at a time. "Ms. Erickson, I've never given a damn about this 'gift' you're going on about. What gets under my skin is you, a Woodard Group employee, crossing lines you have no business crossing." As they drew closer, Bradly instinctively stepped in front of Shanna, his voice soft and coaxing. "Stella, if it's bugging you this much, I'll transfer her to a branch office once the auction's over. "But for now, cut me some slack. Let Shanna have the bracelet. When we get home, name your price on anything, and it's yours." Shanna bobbed her head in agreement, tears glistening on her lashes as she pleaded, "Stella, I really adore this bracelet. You've got it all already. Why go after the one thing I want? "Or is this just because you hate my guts and can't resist taking shots at me?" "What makes you think I'd ever like you?" Stella let out a cold snort. "This belonged to me from the start. Why the hell would I give it up?" She took the bracelet from the attendant with casual ease, her smile sharp but empty. "Ms. Erickson, know your place." Her refusal to budge finally wore through Bradly's patience, erasing every bit of softness from his face. "Stella, do you have to humiliate me like this in front of everyone? Where does that leave my dignity? "It's just a crappy old bracelet. Am I really worth less to you than some trinket?" He said it with such conviction, as if he'd wiped from his memory the solemn vow he'd made when proposing: that he'd hunt down every single one of her mother's sold-off keepsakes, no matter what. Stella's hand flew up, delivering a resounding slap across his cheek. The sharp crack rang out, pulling shocked stares from every corner of the room. Bradly's head snapped sideways, his face livid as he fixed her with a glare, his words hissing through clenched teeth. "Stella, drop the drama already. Have I pampered you too much these days, turning you into this unreasonable nightmare?" Stella reined in her temper, keeping her tone even. "Bradly, you better not live to regret today." Without another word, she turned and walked out, not sparing a backward glance. As her figure receded, Shanna gently touched the angry red mark on Bradly's cheek, her voice full of worry. "Mr. Woodard, are you okay? "Stella's got no boundaries. How could she hit you with all these people watching?" Bradly swatted her hand aside, his nails digging into his palm as he stared after her retreating path. "I've spoiled her rotten, letting her forget that everything she has comes from me." Shanna peeked at his changing expression, testing the waters. "Mr. Woodard, about the bracelet..." Bradly rubbed his throbbing cheek, pulled a bank card from his pocket, and handed it over. "1.7 million dollars on there. Buy whatever catches your eye." Box 217, Stella rapped on the door, eager to thank the mystery bidder face-to-face. Silence. She caught a server walking by. "Excuse me, any idea where the gentleman from this box headed?" "He slipped out right after nabbing the last item," the server said. Disappointment flashed in her eyes, but Stella pressed on, "Do you know who he was?" The server gave her a regretful smile. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard, we're not allowed to spill on our VIPs. Don't make this harder for us." Catching herself, Stella moved out of the way. "Thanks all the same." By the time she made it home from the auction, an hour had ticked by. Stella went straight up to the study, fired up the computer, and dove into the assets registered under her and Bradly's names. After tallying up the numbers, she snatched her phone, found lawyer Rubin Cobb's contact, and hit dial. She said, "I've sorted out the asset division documents for me and Bradly and sent them over. I need you to handle the property split by tomorrow." Rubin quickly received the files and nodded respectfully. "Of course, Mrs. Woodard. I'll get right on it." Stella stared intently at her computer screen, her grip tightening on the mouse. "If Bradly's committed bigamy, how should our assets be divided?" "Generally, any property the bigamous party gained through the bigamy can be claimed back by the other spouse," Rubin replied matter-of-factly. Half of Bradly's current wealth had come from Stella's investments to support his career early on. Her expression darkened, and she promptly forwarded the marriage license between him and Shanna. "Rubin, please use every legal avenue to recover my half of the assets." After hanging up, Stella slumped back in her chair, utterly drained physically and emotionally. She closed her eyes slowly, but sleep was nowhere in sight. Bradly would never agree to a divorce. Until she had everything locked down, she couldn't let on that anything was amiss. Just then, the study door was kicked open from the outside. Bradly flung his jacket onto the desk and yanked Stella up from her seat in front of the computer. "Do you realize that because of your little outburst, I've become a laughingstock in our circles? "What exactly do you want? Are you still obsessing over what happened back then?" Stella opened her eyes slowly, her gaze settling calmly on Bradly, but she remained silent. A fire raged in Bradly's chest, intensifying by the second, and he couldn't hold back his fury any longer. "Since we got married, have I ever done anything to wrong you? I come home right on time every night after work, I always fill you in on any business dinners, and if there's even a hint of a woman involved, I skip them entirely! I've bent over backward, and it's still not good enough for you?" He remembered every detail crystal clear. In his mind, these were the sacrifices he'd made to marry her. Stella suddenly found the whole thing absurd. She couldn't bear to look at him anymore, so she stood up and walked straight out of the study without a backward glance. Behind her, Bradly's voice echoed heavily. "Stella, no matter what you think, my conscience is clear." It felt like Stella's heart had been shattered into icy fragments, a sharp, bitter pain surging through her. Her mind buzzed, and for a moment, all she could hear was that phrase repeating over and over. She thought, 'My conscience is clear? So, in his eyes, everything he's done is perfectly justifiable.' The next morning, when Stella woke up, Bradly was already gone. On the table sat the breakfast he'd prepared, tailored exactly to her tastes. Stella pressed her lips together, her feelings a complicated tangle. They'd ended things on a sour note last night, yet Bradly had still made her breakfast this morning. But this was the same man who'd lied to her for years. No matter what, it was time to end things with Bradly. She didn't touch the food and headed straight to the office. These past few years, she'd stayed out of Bradly's business dealings. A lot of her old financial records were outdated now, and she needed the latest reports. The secretary looked startled when she saw her, then managed to say, "Mrs. Woodard, are you here to see Mr. Woodard?" "No." Stella replied evenly. "Send the finance manager in to see me." Her shares were second only to Bradly's, giving her full access to every aspect of the company. The secretary hesitated briefly before nodding. Stella noticed her immediately turning to make a phone call, probably alerting Bradly. Stella didn't intervene; let her. She settled into the finance office, sipping her coffee absentmindedly while flipping through magazines on the shelf. Most were glossy entertainment rags, mixed in with novels and comics. Stella frowned, only now picking up on the details: the desk was covered in a pink plaid mat, cluttered with adorable plush toys. The standout pair was a set of couple dolls, their outfits emblazoned with the letters W and E. It hit Stella suddenly what that meant, and just then, the door behind her swung open. Shanna rushed in. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard." She was clutching a cup of coffee as she apologized. "I had no idea you'd drop by like this..." Chapter 5 All For Milford Stella arched an eyebrow as she looked her over. "So you're the finance manager?" Shanna nodded with a quick smile. "That's me. If you need anything at all, just say the word. Bradly, well, Mr. Woodard is tied up in a meeting right now. But don't worry, I'll make sure to relay whatever message you have." Stella let out a soft laugh. "No need for that." She regarded Shanna with clear curiosity. "I'm not looking for Bradly. I'm here to see you." Shanna's smile faltered for a moment before she recovered, her tone turning gentle. "Mrs. Woodard, I get that you're still bothered by what went down at the auction last night, but there's no reason to be so worked up about my connection to Mr. Woodard. After all..." She raised her hand, the elegant diamond ring on her finger glinting under the light, perfectly complementing her bashful grin. "I'm already married, and things are great between me and my husband." Stella's eyes locked on the ring, her breath hitching just for an instant. It was ridiculous. In this whole messed-up situation, she was the one playing the role of the mistress. The ring was an exact match for the one Bradly had given her during his proposal. But within seconds, Stella averted her gaze. "It's a lovely ring, but you're mistaken." She spoke unhurriedly, "I'm just here to grab the latest financial report from you. That's all." Stella caught the sour shift in Shanna's expression and smiled to herself. "Seems like you're the one on edge here, Ms. Erickson." Shanna's face transformed completely, that smug spark in her eyes snuffed out. She bit her lip, unable to find words for a long beat. Stella watched her with unruffled poise. "Do I need to repeat my request, Ms. Erickson?" The words had barely left her mouth when Bradly burst in, his expression clouding over at the sight. "Stella, wasn't the scene from last night enough?" His voice was laced with ice. "How long are you planning to drag this out? I've told you already. There's nothing going on between me and Shanna. If you don't believe me..." Stella interrupted him mid-sentence, "Oh, I believe you. Absolutely." A faint smirk tugged at her lips, though her eyes remained frosty as they settled on Shanna. "After all, Ms. Erickson's already married. She just mentioned it herself." The statement landed like a bomb. Shanna's face drained of color, and Bradly's followed suit. He shot her a withering glare. Tears sprang to Shanna's eyes in an instant. Stella had no interest in watching the drama unfold any further. She said evenly, "I'm here for this year's financials. I hold forty percent of the company. Surely I can access that, right?" Bradly seemed to snap back to reality, nodding hastily. "Of course you can." He barked orders at the secretary to fetch it immediately, all the while stealing wary glances at her face. Once he confirmed she wasn't giving anything away, he exhaled almost imperceptibly in relief. He said, "Stella, what's with the sudden interest? You've never bothered with company matters before." Stella answered coolly, "After the account freeze last night, I decided it's smarter to set up a separate one." Bradly's expression froze again. "Stella..." The secretary returned promptly with the report. Stella brushed Bradly aside, skimmed through it quickly, and was heading for the door when he caught her by the wrist. He said, "Stella, about the family dinner tonight, are you coming home with me?" His tone was pleading, like he needed her answer to reassure himself that she hadn't caught on to anything fishy. Stella didn't look back, just replying calmly, "Sure." Bradly's face lit up. "Great, I'll swing by after work to pick you up." Stella dropped her gaze, masking the cool detachment in her eyes. She'd only agreed to head back to the family estate for one specific reason. The marriage license from when she and Bradly had tied the knot was a phony, but he'd made a whole production out of stashing it away at the house, claiming it had to be kept secure. Nothing could serve as stronger proof. Once she got her hands on it, his bigamy would be ironclad. Stella didn't bother waiting for Bradly; she hailed a cab and got there ahead of time. She'd figured it was just a standard family gathering, but she was caught off guard by the full turnout. Bradly's parents, fresh from their overseas vacation last week, were back, and even the distant relatives from the Woodard family's side branches had shown up en masse. "Stella, dear." As she walked in, Nadine Woodard peered over her shoulder. "Bradly didn't come with you?" Stella answered evenly, "He'll be along shortly." Nadine clicked her tongue, her irritation obvious. "On an important occasion like this, letting someone from outside the family arrive solo, what's got into him?" Stella's brow furrowed just a touch. She and Bradly had been engaged since childhood, but after her mother's passing, the Daniels family's status had tanked while the Woodard family kept climbing. That was when Nadine started pushing to scrap the arrangement, and she'd mentioned it more than a few times. But Chuck Woodard was upright and principled, flat-out refusing to play the social-climbing game. With Bradly dead set on marrying her and no one else, Nadine had reluctantly given in, though she made her resentment clear. Even after the marriage, she never passed up an opportunity to give Stella the cold shoulder. She was about to add something else when the butler rushed in and murmured, "He's here." Nadine promptly dropped the subject with Stella and jumped to her feet, the extended family hustling out right behind her to welcome the arrivals. The level of pomp surprised Stella. The Woodard family was already at the top of Ostralver's social elite. For them to pull out all the stops like this... Standing at the edge of the group, Stella glanced up and saw a black Maybach rolling up to the front of the estate. Someone hurried forward to open the door respectfully, and a tall, imposing figure stepped out unhurriedly. The man wore a sleek black suit, his chiseled features sharp, eyes as midnight, radiating a fierce intensity. Every gesture exuded a natural poise and authority that made it tough to hold his stare. The crowd swarmed forward in a rush, but he stayed cool and detached the whole time, his stunningly handsome face as impassive as carved ice, showing zero emotion. Then, as if picking up on something, he looked up toward Stella. Their eyes locked unexpectedly, sending her heart pounding. It was Milford Woodard, Bradly's brother. He'd returned to the country. Though they were brothers in name, Milford wasn't all that tight with the family. He'd headed overseas young and had spent years growing the business abroad. His father Edward Woodard was a total lightweight, good only at spending cash, not earning it. His grandpa Chuck had the smarts and drive, but age was catching up, leaving him unable to manage it all. Real power over the Woodard family had shifted to Milford ages ago. Stella let out a quiet breath. She thought, 'That explains the big crowd today. They've all turned out for Milford.' Chapter 6 Need Help? Stella lingered in the corner of the living room, watching the relatives descend like a swarm of locusts, all scrambling to surround Milford. Bradly stood next to Nadine, flashing a polished smile as he greeted, "Hey, Milford." The uncles who'd been buttering up Bradly just a minute ago quickly switched gears, beaming with over-the-top enthusiasm as they stepped up to say hello. "Milford, what prompted the sudden return?" "Milford, I hear you're in the middle of acquiring a domestic company? You're just getting more impressive by the day." "Come on inside, take a seat. We've got some top-shelf coffee." Bradly caught the stark contrast in the uncles' warmth, his smile fading briefly before he pulled it together and led the way forward. Stella quietly eyed the tall, strikingly handsome Milford striding into the living room like the star of the show, instinctively edging back a step. Now fully pushed to the fringes of the crowd, she shifted aside to let the trailing group pass, doing everything she could to blend into the wallpaper. Milford approached steadily. Unlike Bradly's flashy, outgoing vibe, he had a more brooding, aloof kind of handsomeness, like a pine tree blanketed in snow, regal and intimidating. He acknowledged the flattery around him with simple nods, his eyes scanning the room casually, subtly taking stock of everyone there. Until his gaze swept over Stella again, and he came to an abrupt halt. He paused, causing Bradly to stop too. "Something wrong, Milford?" Milford didn't respond, his steady gaze fixed on Stella. It was only a look, but it jolted her to her core. She felt an odd sense of being claimed, uninvited. Yet she'd barely crossed paths with Milford before. Bradly and the others traced his stare, his eyebrow quirking up. "Stella, come say hi to Big Milford." Stella started to step forward, but Milford beat her to it, walking straight toward her. Bradly and the rest exchanged surprised glances. So far, everyone had been approaching Milford. He hadn't initiated with a soul. Milford's deep eyes gave nothing away. "Stella?" Her breath hitched, like a faint breeze had brushed her ear. She hadn't anticipated him coming over to chat. It had been years, and they'd only met once or twice, but he still remembered her. Stella nodded. "Milford, it's been ages—" Before she could finish, Milford held out his hand. The move was so casual, so natural. Out of pure reflex and politeness, Stella extended hers, their palms connecting. In that brief clasp, she felt him squeeze gently, his thumb settling on her fingers and grazing them with a warm intensity. Milford released after just a second. Suddenly, Bradly sidled up, drawing Stella into his side with an arm around her waist, lacing his fingers through her left hand. He said, "Milford, how long are you in town this time? Stella and I can take you out to dinner one of these days." Milford took in their cozy pose, his glance dropping to their intertwined hands. "About a month." The words had barely left his mouth when Chuck came down the stairs, leaning on the butler for support. Milford headed over to talk with him. Not long after, the kitchen called that the party was ready. Stella trailed Bradly to their seats on the left side of the main table. Everyone filed in and sat. As the eldest branch, the two Woodard brothers took priority. Chuck claimed the head of the main table, with Nadine and Milford next in line. Stella and Bradly fell further down the order, landing her right across from Milford on the diagonal. The family feast got underway, with everyone firing questions at Milford about what he'd been up to lately. Stella kept her head down, nibbling at her food while catching bits of the conversation. Zrester bigwig, major stakeholder in Wonder Group, founder of that financial exchange and the smart transportation AI... Milford's credentials were endless and mind-blowing. She thought back to that Zrester party invite list she'd snagged years ago. Milford was third from the top, while she languished at the bottom. In all these years, she'd had next to no interaction with him. Right after the wedding, this mysterious Milford had only shown up once. He dropped off a gift and vanished. In just a handful of years, Milford had climbed to the pinnacle of Zrester's power players. His talent was obvious. Before long, the family party wound down, and folks scattered to grab desserts. Still hung up on that marriage license, Stella excused herself to head upstairs for a coat change. Bradly was itching to chat with Milford, his gaze fixed that way as he muttered distractedly, "Yeah, go on up." Stella wasted no time hustling upstairs. With the crowd milling about downstairs, she slipped to the third floor of the villa and nudged open Bradly's bedroom door. There it was: the glaring marriage license perched right on top of the nightstand, framed, flanked by their wedding portrait. As she stepped closer, memories of Bradly's cozy moments with Shanna flooded her brain, her nails digging slowly into her palm. That license seared her eyes, like it was sneering at her gullibility. She never should've caved, never should've handed Bradly a second shot. It just went to show that people's hearts circled back for seconds. Disgust flickered in her eyes as she hauled the desk's computer chair over, the kind with wheels and a swivel, shaky at best. She climbed onto it, planting one foot on the bed for stability, teetering just enough to hold steady. Stella hiked up her pearl-white knee-length dress a bit and stretched upward slowly. Fingers extended to the max, but she was still a couple inches shy. She rose onto her tiptoes, straining, but no dice. Frowning from her perch, she scanned around and snagged a book from beside the cabinet. As she leaned down, footsteps suddenly echoed outside the door. Fast, but measured. A man's, for sure. Her pulse spiked. She clutched the table, scrambling to hop down, but, perfect timing, her other sleeve caught on the cabinet's edge. She tugged frantically to break free, but it was too late to descend. The door flew open out of nowhere. Stella went rigid, her knees giving way as she toppled backward off the chair. A quick yelp escaped her, but the expected crash never hit. A firm hand latched precisely onto her thigh, another banding around her waist, hauling her into a solid hold and planting her feet firmly on the floor. She slammed into a warm, toned chest, a crisp, grounding sandalwood aroma enveloping her, not Bradly's scent. Stella glanced up, nearly clipping the guy's chin. Milford let go right away, backing off a step to give her space. Her cheeks burned, the thigh he'd gripped feeling like it was on fire. Mortified and frozen, she stammered, "Th-thanks." Milford stayed composed, his eyes skimming her flushed face and the pinkened patch of skin on her thigh from his hold. His Adam's apple dipped subtly. "Didn't realize you were in here. My bad." Stella shook her head, even more flustered. She was the one imposing on him. Milford flicked a glance upward. "Need some help?" She looked too. Up top, the marriage license screamed for attention. Chapter 7 Don't Let Me Hate You Stella just came out with it. "I want to get the marriage license down." Milford hesitated for a beat, without probing why she needed it, and slid the chair out of the way. Tall and long-limbed, he barely had to tip up on his toes to snag it effortlessly. Milford skimmed the lettering on the license, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes before the faintest quirk tugged at his lips, almost undetectable. He passed it over to Stella. "Ah, I see." She missed the words, taking it with a soft murmur: "Thanks, Milford." Her palms were slick with sweat now, but holding the certificate still sent an icy shiver through her. Those bold letters were a brutal reminder. This whole marriage had been one big joke. From beginning to end, Bradly's grand performance of undying love had always had a third wheel in the shadows. Milford dropped his gaze. Towering over her, all he could make out was the neat swirl at the top of her head, round and oddly appealing. Those slim, pale hands gripped the certificate like a vise, completely bloodless. Milford asked offhandedly, "So, what's the marriage license for?" "Oh, I just want to bring it home and store it there," Stella shot back, pulling an excuse out of thin air. Milford's stare felt like it enveloped her, the heat of it almost scorching, though he kept his hands to himself. Then he casually adjusted his cufflinks and turned to go. Stella let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, sagging against the cool cabinet. Her thigh still tingled with warmth from his grip; she quickly smoothed her skirt down, tucked the license into her bag, and only left the room once everything looked undisturbed. Bradly was still out in the back garden, deep in conversation. Stella kept her face neutral, strolling over to stand at his side. A few relatives were chatting with him. "Hey, word is Milford actually got back a couple days ago, but only tipped us off today." Bradly looked taken aback. "I thought he was flying in today?" "Nope, sounds like he hit up some auction. I only heard bits and pieces, supposedly the other night at the Empire Auction House." "He must not have gone. I was there that evening too, and I didn't see him anywhere," Bradly said, frowning in confusion. Stella's eyelashes flickered subtly, but she played it cool. Out of nowhere, her mind jumped back to that enigmatic bidder in suite 217. She wondered, 'Could Milford be the mystery guest who got the bracelet for me?' She shoved the thought down as soon as it surfaced. They'd only crossed paths once, total strangers really, connected by the flimsiest in-law tie. No matter how you sliced it, Milford wouldn't stick his neck out for her. Just like Bradly said, he hadn't caught wind of anything, so it couldn't be Milford. Stella let it go. After some more mingling, the group started to break up. Bradly steered her over to bid farewell to Milford. "Mom, Milford, we're taking off. Let's set up a family dinner soon when things settle." Milford slouched back in his chair with effortless nonchalance and gave a nod. "I'm knee-deep in an acquisition, no hurry on the get-together. But you..." He lifted his head, his expression sharpening. "Keep your life on the straight and narrow. Don't veer off track." The edge of warning in his voice was crystal clear. Bradly had grown up overshadowed by Milford; he went rigid but brushed it off casually. "Come on, everything's good. My company's running smooth as ever. If you're skeptical, drop by anytime and pore over the financials—knock yourself out." "It's not just about the company," Milford said softly, eyes down as he savored a sip of coffee. Stella couldn't help stealing a glance at him, and in that instant, a ridiculous idea struck her. From what Bradly had mentioned, Milford was abroad most of the time but still had the inside scoop on everything back home. She wondered, 'Does he know about the shady stuff Bradly is up to on the sly?' "Milford, I hear you. I'll make sure to nurture my marriage with Stella, our whole life together." Bradly grinned, threading his fingers through Stella's. Milford's gaze lingered on their joined hands for a second before drifting away, sealed with a subtle nod. Stella had no desire for any more close contact with Bradly, so she subtly shook his hand free without thinking. A split second later, his disbelieving stare locked onto her face, and he tried to grab her again. She'd known her move would humiliate him in the moment, so she didn't bother saying goodbye to Milford. She just turned and walked out ahead. Once they slid into the car, Bradly shed his polite, deferential mask from earlier, reverting to his entitled rich-kid swagger. He tugged his tie loose, a flicker of annoyance pinching his brows. "Always playing the big-brother card to chew me out, same crap since we were little. "So what if he's crushing it overseas? I'm holding my own just fine back home. Who in Ostralver would even think about messing with me?" Bradly fished out a menthol cigarette on autopilot, ready to light up, but he caught himself after glancing at Stella and shoved it back. He said, "All these years, folks have been whispering, or saying it straight to my face, that my company's thriving because of his pull. Like he's behind every damn thing. "And you? You flat-out refused to let me hold your hand back there. Trying to make me look like an idiot in front of him?" His expression iced over, the edge in his voice impossible to miss. Stella's frown deepened as she took it in. Even without knowing Milford all that well, she understood that Bradly's cocky antics in Ostralver, brushing people off like they were nothing, had always been propped up by Milford's clout. She'd assumed the brothers were tight, but clearly Bradly's respect was just for show; underneath, his grudge against Milford simmered deep. She could overlook a lot, but with things the way they were now, there was zero point in him putting on that phony hand-holding act. Stella gripped her bag, the one with the marriage license inside, and couldn't bite her tongue. "We haven't held hands in forever. It feels off to me." The car went dead quiet. She was right. Their physical closeness had dwindled so much that even she couldn't pinpoint the last time. Bradly's brow creased, and he snapped the cigarette filter clean off between his fingers. "What was that?" Stella met his eyes steadily. "From here on out, let's skip the pointless touchy-feely stuff. It just doesn't sit right." She hadn't even finished when the brakes screeched harshly. The car lurched to a halt on the empty shoulder of the road. Stella almost smacked into the window from the force, her pulse hammering as she barked, "Are you out of your mind?" Bradly loomed over her, fingers digging into her chin, irritation boiling in his glare. "Stella, do you have any idea what you're saying?" The pinch stung like crazy, and the absurdity of it all hit her as she wrestled to shove him off. "Is it not true? When's the last time we even held hands. Can you remember?" Bradly's gaze turned stormy, like she'd struck a raw spot. "I bet you're hung up on Milford, just like that girl from the second branch. That's why you pulled away in front of him. You're trying to cut ties with me?" "Bradly! What the hell are you babbling about?" Anger surged through her as she pushed harder. "Don't you dare pin your gross history on me!" The way the family had orbited Milford like he was the sun had obviously gotten under his skin. The more she resisted, the darker his look grew. Abruptly, he leaned in and smashed his mouth against hers. Stella's eyes flew wide, her head whipping aside to evade as she hammered at his shoulders with everything she had. He'd locked lips with Shanna god knows how often. The thought turned her stomach, so she clamped down and bit him hard. Bradly yelped in pain, jerking back as the fog cleared and he clocked what he'd just done, regret flashing across his face. Blood dotted his lip, but he brushed it off, lunging to wrap her in his arms. "I'm sorry, Stella, baby, I'm so sorry. I screwed up; it was a stupid impulse..." Drained of energy, Stella sagged into the passenger seat, letting him hold her while a barren wave of emptiness and revulsion washed over her. The hug she'd once melted into now repulsed her to her core. "Get off me." Her voice came out rough and scratchy. "Bradly, don't push me to hating you."
Chapter 1 Don't Want Him Anymore "I'm sorry, ma'am." On the other end of the line, the insurance customer service rep said coolly, "After checking our records, the car owner, Mr. Woodard, is indeed married, but the spouse listed here isn't you." Stella Daniels had gotten into a car accident on her way to the Woodard Group headquarters. She couldn't get through to Bradly Woodard on his phone, so she had no choice but to call the insurance company. The car was registered in Bradly's name, but as his wife, she should be able to process the claim too. "When Mr. Woodard picked up the car, he came with his wife and provided the original marriage license. Her last name is Erickson, and her full name is Shanna Erickson," the rep said. It hit Stella like a slap in the face. Dizziness washed over her in waves, leaving her whole body shaking uncontrollably. She and Bradly had been childhood sweethearts. Their families were old friends, and everyone in Ostralver's high society knew how clingy he was with her. Bradly couldn't stand being apart from her even for a single day. Three years ago, when Stella headed abroad for her studies, Bradly had the plane stopped just for her. During her three years in Ensland, he expanded his business overseas to make it easier to look after her. Sixteen thousand miles apart, he'd still fly across the ocean every week to see her. The year she came down with a severe lung illness and nearly didn't pull through, she spent a week in intensive care. Bradly ignored the infection risks and stayed right by her side, sliding a ring onto her finger. He said, "If anything happens to you, I'll go with you. We'll be husband and wife in the next life too." For Bradly's sake, she turned down her mentor's offer to stay on in the lab and headed back home. Brimming with excitement, she went to find him, planning to surprise him. But when she pushed open the door to the CEO's office, she saw a slender, pretty woman straddling his lap. The woman's innocent face tilted upward, her voice whiny and aggrieved. "Mr. Woodard, what happens to me now that Stella is back?" Bradly sat in his executive chair, his tall frame looming over her. A flash of ruthlessness crossed his stern features. "You? You're just her stand-in. Don't forget your place." He lifted his hand, pinching her delicate chin with a sneer. "Barely a three-out-of-ten resemblance, and you think you can compare to her?" Stella was still clutching the gift she'd prepared for him. With a loud "bang," it dropped to the floor, finally breaking the scene in the office. Bradly's face drained of color as he shoved the woman off and jumped to his feet. That woman was Shanna. After Stella caught them in the act, Bradly fired Shanna on the spot and pulled out all the stops to win her back. Bradly, the arrogant prince of Ostralver's elite circles, humbled himself to the dust before her, begging her to give him another chance. Any project she set her sights on, he'd drop without a second thought. He stood in the pouring rain outside her building for over a week, just for a glimpse of her. He said, "Stella, I'm not asking you to forgive me. At least let me explain. "I only ever saw Shanna as your replacement. You've been gone abroad for so long; I missed you terribly. I swear, I just kept her around. Nothing more ever happened between us. "That time you walked in, I'd had too much to drink, and she deliberately tempted me. I lost control for a moment... "I've already let her go, and she won't show up in our lives again. Stella, please, come back to me." Back then, Stella couldn't stand even the slightest betrayal. She insisted on breaking off the engagement. Until that one incident. She was kidnapped by a business rival. The kidnappers reneged on the deal, tied her up in an abandoned factory, and set the place ablaze. Bradly charged into the flames without a second thought to rescue her, shielding her from a collapsing steel beam. He ended up gravely injured, confined to bed for nearly six months. By risking his life, Bradly finally melted her resolve. Once he was out of the hospital, she accepted his proposal, and they threw a lavish wedding. In the two years since they tied the knot, he'd treated her just as devotedly as ever, with zero scandals. He even imposed a strict curfew on himself, heading home right on time every day. Even on out-of-town business trips, he'd video call her constantly. His partners would tease him about being henpecked. He never denied it. Instead, he'd grin proudly and say, "A real man takes care of his family." Memories rushed through Stella's mind like a whirlwind, every past moment flashing by in a blur. Her legs buckled, and she dropped to her knees, burying her face in her hands. She couldn't figure out which Bradly was the real one anymore. A bitter, mocking gleam sparked in her eyes. She thought, 'How absurd.' She'd been his wife for two years, and only now was she learning that even their marriage license had been a sham. Stella scrubbed her face hard, her bangs already soaked with cold sweat. She ignored the other driver's furious yelling and calmly dialed the police. They showed up fast. After finishing her statement, Stella left the station under a sky that had gone completely dark. Her phone lit up with several missed calls from Bradly. When she hadn't answered, he'd sent texts instead. Bradly: [Babe, I was tied up in a key meeting this afternoon. Signal jammers were on, so I missed your call. You okay?] Bradly: [I've got a client dinner tonight, so I'll be late getting home. I double-checked: no women involved, so no need to worry.] Bradly: [Head to bed early. Don't wait up. Love you.] Stella stared at the screen, a sharp wave of irony twisting in her gut. Bradly didn't stagger in until the wee hours. He reeked of alcohol, which almost, but not quite, masked the subtle whiff of perfume on him. "Honey..." He could barely keep his balance, stumbling over to wrap his arms around her through the blanket. "I missed you so damn much..." Stella didn't say a word. Only once he was dead to the world did she sit up quietly and unlock his phone with his fingerprint. The thing was squeaky clean, no suspicious traces at all. His contacts were mostly buddies and business folks, with hers pinned at the top as "Darling Wife." Flawlessly tidy, just like their sham of a marriage. Stella hooked the phone up to her computer, and it didn't take long to uncover his second WhatsApp account. She signed in, and right away, messages popped up from a profile with a cute pink kitten avatar, labeled "Baby." Shanna: [Bradly, thanks for tonight. Without you, I wouldn't have known what to do.] Shanna: [I've always thought meeting you was the luckiest thing that's ever happened to me. I won't intrude on your life. As long as you swing by to see me once in a while, that's enough to make me happy.] Stella scrolled back through the history. She'd suspected as much, but seeing it all laid out still hit her like a punch to the chest, leaving her breathless. They chatted nearly every day. Shanna never missed a good morning message, and Bradly's replies had shifted over time, from total silence at first, to sporadic responses, and now to answering every single one. A chill spread through her. Stella clutched the phone tighter, knowing she should quit while she was ahead but unable to stop herself from digging deeper. Shanna: [Bradly, sorry, I had a few drinks and lost it for a bit. Doc says I'm okay now, so don't stress.] Shanna: [Mrs. Woodard's birthday bash is important. Go enjoy it with her. I'll be fine.] Stella squeezed her eyes shut as the memory came rushing back. Her birthday. Bradly had spent over a month planning it down to the last detail, but that day, he was totally distracted. Hell, he almost cut his own hand while slicing the cake. When she'd asked what was up, he'd brushed it off as work drama, told her not to worry, then pulled her into a soft embrace and encouraged her to blow out the candles and make a wish. It all made sense now, as she stared at this chat log. That same day, Shanna had tried to kill herself by slashing her wrists and ended up in the ER. A sour bitterness flooded her chest like a rising tide. In those brief seconds when she'd closed her eyes to wish, she wondered, 'Was he agonizing over Shanna in the hospital, or picturing endless years together with her?' Stella knew she didn't need an answer to that anymore. She gently placed the phone back and looked down at Bradly, fast asleep beside her. She'd known him since she was four, and for the twenty years that followed, she'd truly believed his love was hers alone, irreplaceable. But now she saw it for what it was: just cheap free samples at a store, handed out to anyone who walked by. If that was all it amounted to, she was done with it. Chapter 2 Bid Against Her The next day, Stella woke to find Bradly busy in the kitchen, his broad shoulders narrowing to a slim waist, his tall, lean build moving with purpose. The sight hit her hard, a dull ache tightening in her chest. Bradly had learned to cook entirely for her sake. She still remembered that turbulent period when the Woodard Group was in crisis. His rivals had targeted her, paying off a servant to poison her food. She'd been unconscious for three full days. When she finally woke, Bradly was there, his eyes red-rimmed and veined with exhaustion, gripping her hand like a lifeline. The instant she stirred, the imposing Bradly crumbled forward, enveloping her in a hug as scalding tears fell onto her skin. From then on, Bradly threw himself into cooking lessons, taking charge of all her meals. In less than a month, he'd gone from a spoiled elite who couldn't distinguish spices to turning out dishes worthy of a Michelin chef. Just then, his phone rang. Stella glanced at it but made no move to answer. Bradly darted out of the kitchen, apron still on, grabbing the phone with a barely concealed flash of anxiety. Stella pretended not to notice and went to wash up. When she came back, the table was set with breakfast, and he was slipping into his suit jacket from the coat rack. Seeing her, he said gently, "There's an emergency at work. I have to run. Sorry I can't join you for breakfast." Stella murmured, "Sure, work comes first." He was clearly in a hurry, because he didn't pick up on the new edge of cool distance in her tone and rushed out. She stared blankly after him until he was gone, then dumped the entire spread into the trash. Then she picked up her phone and dialed a number. "That offer you made before? I'm on board." The person on the other end erupted in delight, chattering away before shifting to broken Andosa Language. "Stella, why the sudden change of heart? I've bugged you about this so many times, and you always said you were married now and focusing on family." A mocking glint flickered in Stella's eyes. She thought, 'Married? This so-called marriage has been dead on arrival.' The caller was her former mentor from her overseas studies. He'd reached out lately, hoping she'd join his new team and spearhead a major project. At the time, she'd kept saying no out of loyalty to Bradly. Now, she only wished she'd seen through the absurd joke of their marriage earlier. After the call, she contacted immigration to schedule a passport renewal. It would take about a week. But before heading out, she had one loose end to tie up. That evening, Stella showed up at a private auction at the Cloud Hotel. She was after one of her mother's keepsakes. Her mom had died when she was eight, and soon after, the Daniels family had liquidated her wedding gift. Stella had been hunting down the items ever since. Over the years, she'd only reclaimed a few. Tonight's auction featured a bracelet from that collection, one her mother had picked up on a trip to Ijance. It was utterly unique, irreplaceable. Whatever it took, she was getting it back. Stella settled into her seat just as the auction was about to start. She was flipping through the catalog when Bradly's voice floated over. "Didn't I already pick out that royal blue sapphire set for you? Not good enough?" His voice carried that familiar tenderness. Shanna linked her arm with his, pouting playfully. "Your taste sucks! I want to pick my own birthday gift." Stella watched them quietly until Bradly threaded through the guests and their gazes collided by chance. The color drained from his face. On pure reflex, he jerked his arm away from Shanna. "Stella." He strode over quickly. "I tried calling you a few times, but you didn't answer. Were you planning to surprise me?" Even though he tried to play it cool, she could still catch that subtle hint of panic in his expression. Stella didn't bother calling him on it, replying evenly, "My phone was on silent. I didn't hear it." Bradly visibly relaxed, casually taking her hand in his with a look of concern. "Your hands are like ice. Didn't I warn you about the cold snap today? You're always putting style over staying warm. If you catch a chill, you know it'll just kill me." As he talked, he signaled a server for a blanket and draped it snugly around her shoulders. Stella kept a straight face, brushing him off as she looked past him to Shanna, who lingered behind with a scowl. Shanna nibbled her lip, then defiantly dropped into the seat next to Bradly, her gaze simmering with irritation. Bradly leaned closer, dropping his voice to explain, "We just wrapped up a major project at the company, and Shanna pulled her weight big time. Her birthday's around the corner, so I thought I'd treat her to something as a project bonus." He eyed her anxiously. "Stella, you're not mad, right?" Shanna piped up in a soft, vulnerable tone. "Mrs. Woodard, if this upsets you, I'll just go. I don't want to get in the way of you and Mr. Woodard." Stella's mouth quirked into a smile that never touched her eyes. "We're married. A little thing like this? Of course it doesn't bother me." The auction got underway shortly after. Bradly treated Shanna like she was invisible, focusing entirely on Stella. He paged through the catalog, throwing in bids left and right. "Babe, this would look amazing on you." He grinned, tenderly brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his tone warm and intimate. "You'd be gorgeous in it." Stella averted her eyes, but out of the corner of her vision, she saw Shanna discreetly clutching the edge of Bradly's jacket in the dim light. Their gazes locked for a split second in a shared, lingering look. She masked the derision in her own eyes, struck by how absurd it all was. Bradly seemed totally at ease juggling both women, convinced he was keeping things balanced, one with the official status, the other with his undivided public attention. She thought, 'What could be fairer than that?' But Stella had never been interested in that kind of equilibrium. Her world extended far beyond romance. Bradly? He was just a small detour on her path, a misstep she'd own up to. And now, it was time to set things right. "Next up: a string of bracelet. Fine-grained texture, deep aroma that lingers. Starting bid at 170,000 dollars, with increments of at least 20,000 dollars!" The auctioneer's pumped-up voice echoed through the room. Finally, Stella's main target for the evening. Bids flew in fast, the screen flickering with updates as the auctioneer called out, "Number 17 lady at 200,000 dollars! Number 9 gentleman ups it to 260,000 dollars! Going higher?" Once the initial frenzy tapered off, Stella lifted her paddle. "500,000 dollars." She'd doubled the current bid in one go. It was a hefty amount. Sure, the bracelet was top-notch, but it wasn't the auction's highlight. The room went quiet after her call; no one countered. "Fantastic! Number 11 lady at 500,000 dollars! "500,000 dollars once! 500,000 dollars twice!" The auctioneer hoisted his gavel, poised to bring it down. "No more bids? Then 500,000 dollars—" "520,000 dollars," A gentle, hesitant voice interrupted. Shanna shrank against Bradly's side, paddle in hand, murmuring timidly to him, "Is this where I put in the amount?" Chapter 3 You're Dirty Stella frowned and raised her bid. "540,000 dollars." But Shanna was right behind her, countering with, "560,000 dollars." How annoyingly precise, each time, she stuck to the bare minimum, slapping on just 20,000 dollars more than Stella's offer. Shanna turned toward her, her voice dripping with plea. "Stella, you've got plenty of jewelry already. Please, let me have this one. I adore it. "I'm not like you, born with money, everything handed to you on a silver platter. You snap your fingers and get whatever you want. If it goes any higher, I really won't be able to keep up." Stella didn't bother looking at her, just quirking her lips in a thin smile. "Isn't Mr. Woodard covering the cost for you? What are you stressing about?" Shanna's face went a shade paler, but she answered in that soft, demure tone, "Even so, Mr. Woodard earns his money the hard way. If I can save him a bit, I ought to." She was the epitome of considerate and caring. After several more back-and-forth bids, the bracelet's price had soared to 700,000 dollars. Stella let out a chilly scoff and was opening her mouth to up the ante when Bradly beat her to it. He said, "Babe, why don't we just let Shanna take this bracelet?" Stella's fingers curled into a tight fist, her nails biting into her palm. She lifted her gaze, any lingering warmth in her eyes turning to ice. "What did you just say?" Bradly let out a resigned sigh, giving her hand a comforting pat as he murmured gently, "Babe, I already told Shanna she'd get a gift tonight, and she's got her heart set on this one. No need to compete with her. "Plus, I've already snagged you a handful of other pieces. Isn't that plenty?" He said it all lightly, teasingly, as if it were nothing more than a harmless quip. Stella shut her eyes, a nameless sourness creeping along her nerves, coiling around her heart until it felt like she couldn't draw a breath. Given Shanna's modest background, 700,000 dollars was way out of her league. She wouldn't even make the guest list here on her own. The only reason she was in that seat, trading bids blow for blow, was Bradly's backing. His pampering had delivered her straight into Stella's path. Stella whispered, "What if I refuse to back down?" She hoisted her paddle once more, her voice echoing through the room. "1 million dollars." A hush blanketed the hall. The auctioneer clearly picked up on the drama, his delivery faltering. "Number eleven at 1 million dollars. Do I hear higher?" Shanna's eyes welled up, on the verge of tears, as she cast a helpless look at Bradly before tacking on another fifty thousand. "1 million 20 thousand dollars." Stella's features hardened to frost, and she was poised to fire back when the manager bustled over, bending close to murmur, "Mrs. Woodard, apologies. We ran a credit verification on your account, and it's frozen. Got another one we can use?" The words slammed into her like a bolt from the blue, ringing in her ears. She snapped her head toward Bradly, but he'd already looked away. An icy numbness spread through her arms and legs. She though,t 'Of course, it has to be him.' Her primary account was linked with his; besides her, only he could authorize a freeze on her cards. Triumph flickered in Shanna's eyes as she added with a pointed edge, "Well, in that case, Mrs. Woodard, maybe it's time to step aside. You've got so much already. Can't you let me have this one little thing?" Up on stage, the auction rolled on, the display frozen on Shanna's latest bid: 1 million 20 thousand dollars. Shanna could hardly hide her glee, chirping sweetly, "Go on, call it!" But the words had barely left her lips when someone announced he would bid for the lot at any costs right in the second-floor VIP suite. After a momentary silence, the room burst into chaos. "He's declared absolute intent!" Even the auctioneer's expression changed. He'd been in the game for over a decade, but this was his first encounter with such a scenario. He hurriedly called out, "Lot number six goes to the gentleman in box 217, regardless of how high the price goes." Anyone up in those second-floor VIP suites was either swimming in money or held serious sway in Ostralver's upper crust. Stella glanced upward toward the source of the voice, catching only a vague outline behind the draped curtains. Even when she couldn't see his face, the man's crossed-legged posture radiated an unspoken dominance that pressed down on the room. The auctioneer slammed his gavel down with finality, proclaiming, "Congratulations to our esteemed guest in box 217 on winning lot number six! You're now upgraded to black gold status!" Across all of Ostralver's elite scene, fewer than a handful had ever hit black gold level at these events. Stella wondered, 'Just who is this mystery man?' Stella loosened her clenched fist slightly, torn between relief that her mother's heirloom hadn't landed in Shanna's clutches and anxiety over reclaiming it from this unknown figure. No matter what, she'd stop at nothing, pay any price, to bring her mother's possession home. She rose to her feet, intent on marching over to box 217 for a chat, when the attendant who'd just ducked inside reappeared, tray in hand with the bracelet. "What's this? The bidder in 217 having second thoughts?" "Auctions don't do take-backs." "Probably short on funds. I called it. No one's done this here before." As the murmurs swirled, the attendant headed straight for Stella, dipping into a courteous bow with a warm smile. She said, "Mrs. Woodard, the gentleman in box 217 requests that I deliver the bracelet to you as a gift. He wishes for you to follow your true path and for all to unfold as it should." The place erupted in gossip once more, with guests shooting glances her way, some envious, others skeptical, many flat-out stunned. "Isn't that Mrs. Woodard? What's her deal with the upstairs guy?" "Likely just buttering up Mr. Woodard." "Nah, I don't buy it. Out of all the goodies tonight, why zero in on those beads for Mrs. Woodard? Sounds like she's got a real connection there." The buzz filtered through, and Bradly's face turned stone-cold. In a tight, edged voice, he demanded, "Stella, what's the story with you and whoever's in box 217?" Stella held his piercing stare and said flatly, "I have no idea who he is." "!" Bradly jumped up, clamping down on her wrist like a vice. Her soft, fair skin reddened almost instantly under the pressure. Stella winced sharply, jerking her arm back on reflex. "Bradly, have you lost your mind? Haven't you stirred up enough drama for one day?" But he barreled on, blind to her fury, his reddened eyes locked on her as if he could swallow her up. "What's really between you two? "Stella, through all our married years, I've bent over backward for you. Anything you desired, I served it up without question. Why would you betray me like this?" In his mind, it was already a done deal: she was entangled in something shady with the man above. If the guy was angling for a favor from him, Bradly would've recognized him right away. People in Ostralver didn't beat around the bush when they needed something from him. They came direct. The jab landed raw and direct. Bradly blinked, frozen for a beat as a flicker of alarm shot through his eyes. Chapter 4 Don't Know You'd Come Bradly said, "I'm sorry, Stella. I didn't mean it like that. I had no right getting jealous over you and some stranger. It's all on me." Bradly's eyes reddened. "But honestly, there's nothing going on between Shanna and me. I just brought her along as a thank-you. Can you let this slide?" Seeing his cue, Shanna ducked her head meekly, her voice catching. "That's right, Mrs. Woodard. I've been bending over backward to keep my distance from Mr. Woodard so you wouldn't get the wrong impression. "I'm not asking for the world, just a decent birthday gift. I didn't grow up with your advantages; you've had everything handed to you and even snagged a catch like Mr. Woodard. Can't I at least pick out something for myself?" "Just a gift, huh?" Stella closed in on her, one step at a time. "Ms. Erickson, I've never given a damn about this 'gift' you're going on about. What gets under my skin is you, a Woodard Group employee, crossing lines you have no business crossing." As they drew closer, Bradly instinctively stepped in front of Shanna, his voice soft and coaxing. "Stella, if it's bugging you this much, I'll transfer her to a branch office once the auction's over. "But for now, cut me some slack. Let Shanna have the bracelet. When we get home, name your price on anything, and it's yours." Shanna bobbed her head in agreement, tears glistening on her lashes as she pleaded, "Stella, I really adore this bracelet. You've got it all already. Why go after the one thing I want? "Or is this just because you hate my guts and can't resist taking shots at me?" "What makes you think I'd ever like you?" Stella let out a cold snort. "This belonged to me from the start. Why the hell would I give it up?" She took the bracelet from the attendant with casual ease, her smile sharp but empty. "Ms. Erickson, know your place." Her refusal to budge finally wore through Bradly's patience, erasing every bit of softness from his face. "Stella, do you have to humiliate me like this in front of everyone? Where does that leave my dignity? "It's just a crappy old bracelet. Am I really worth less to you than some trinket?" He said it with such conviction, as if he'd wiped from his memory the solemn vow he'd made when proposing: that he'd hunt down every single one of her mother's sold-off keepsakes, no matter what. Stella's hand flew up, delivering a resounding slap across his cheek. The sharp crack rang out, pulling shocked stares from every corner of the room. Bradly's head snapped sideways, his face livid as he fixed her with a glare, his words hissing through clenched teeth. "Stella, drop the drama already. Have I pampered you too much these days, turning you into this unreasonable nightmare?" Stella reined in her temper, keeping her tone even. "Bradly, you better not live to regret today." Without another word, she turned and walked out, not sparing a backward glance. As her figure receded, Shanna gently touched the angry red mark on Bradly's cheek, her voice full of worry. "Mr. Woodard, are you okay? "Stella's got no boundaries. How could she hit you with all these people watching?" Bradly swatted her hand aside, his nails digging into his palm as he stared after her retreating path. "I've spoiled her rotten, letting her forget that everything she has comes from me." Shanna peeked at his changing expression, testing the waters. "Mr. Woodard, about the bracelet..." Bradly rubbed his throbbing cheek, pulled a bank card from his pocket, and handed it over. "1.7 million dollars on there. Buy whatever catches your eye." Box 217, Stella rapped on the door, eager to thank the mystery bidder face-to-face. Silence. She caught a server walking by. "Excuse me, any idea where the gentleman from this box headed?" "He slipped out right after nabbing the last item," the server said. Disappointment flashed in her eyes, but Stella pressed on, "Do you know who he was?" The server gave her a regretful smile. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard, we're not allowed to spill on our VIPs. Don't make this harder for us." Catching herself, Stella moved out of the way. "Thanks all the same." By the time she made it home from the auction, an hour had ticked by. Stella went straight up to the study, fired up the computer, and dove into the assets registered under her and Bradly's names. After tallying up the numbers, she snatched her phone, found lawyer Rubin Cobb's contact, and hit dial. She said, "I've sorted out the asset division documents for me and Bradly and sent them over. I need you to handle the property split by tomorrow." Rubin quickly received the files and nodded respectfully. "Of course, Mrs. Woodard. I'll get right on it." Stella stared intently at her computer screen, her grip tightening on the mouse. "If Bradly's committed bigamy, how should our assets be divided?" "Generally, any property the bigamous party gained through the bigamy can be claimed back by the other spouse," Rubin replied matter-of-factly. Half of Bradly's current wealth had come from Stella's investments to support his career early on. Her expression darkened, and she promptly forwarded the marriage license between him and Shanna. "Rubin, please use every legal avenue to recover my half of the assets." After hanging up, Stella slumped back in her chair, utterly drained physically and emotionally. She closed her eyes slowly, but sleep was nowhere in sight. Bradly would never agree to a divorce. Until she had everything locked down, she couldn't let on that anything was amiss. Just then, the study door was kicked open from the outside. Bradly flung his jacket onto the desk and yanked Stella up from her seat in front of the computer. "Do you realize that because of your little outburst, I've become a laughingstock in our circles? "What exactly do you want? Are you still obsessing over what happened back then?" Stella opened her eyes slowly, her gaze settling calmly on Bradly, but she remained silent. A fire raged in Bradly's chest, intensifying by the second, and he couldn't hold back his fury any longer. "Since we got married, have I ever done anything to wrong you? I come home right on time every night after work, I always fill you in on any business dinners, and if there's even a hint of a woman involved, I skip them entirely! I've bent over backward, and it's still not good enough for you?" He remembered every detail crystal clear. In his mind, these were the sacrifices he'd made to marry her. Stella suddenly found the whole thing absurd. She couldn't bear to look at him anymore, so she stood up and walked straight out of the study without a backward glance. Behind her, Bradly's voice echoed heavily. "Stella, no matter what you think, my conscience is clear." It felt like Stella's heart had been shattered into icy fragments, a sharp, bitter pain surging through her. Her mind buzzed, and for a moment, all she could hear was that phrase repeating over and over. She thought, 'My conscience is clear? So, in his eyes, everything he's done is perfectly justifiable.' The next morning, when Stella woke up, Bradly was already gone. On the table sat the breakfast he'd prepared, tailored exactly to her tastes. Stella pressed her lips together, her feelings a complicated tangle. They'd ended things on a sour note last night, yet Bradly had still made her breakfast this morning. But this was the same man who'd lied to her for years. No matter what, it was time to end things with Bradly. She didn't touch the food and headed straight to the office. These past few years, she'd stayed out of Bradly's business dealings. A lot of her old financial records were outdated now, and she needed the latest reports. The secretary looked startled when she saw her, then managed to say, "Mrs. Woodard, are you here to see Mr. Woodard?" "No." Stella replied evenly. "Send the finance manager in to see me." Her shares were second only to Bradly's, giving her full access to every aspect of the company. The secretary hesitated briefly before nodding. Stella noticed her immediately turning to make a phone call, probably alerting Bradly. Stella didn't intervene; let her. She settled into the finance office, sipping her coffee absentmindedly while flipping through magazines on the shelf. Most were glossy entertainment rags, mixed in with novels and comics. Stella frowned, only now picking up on the details: the desk was covered in a pink plaid mat, cluttered with adorable plush toys. The standout pair was a set of couple dolls, their outfits emblazoned with the letters W and E. It hit Stella suddenly what that meant, and just then, the door behind her swung open. Shanna rushed in. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard." She was clutching a cup of coffee as she apologized. "I had no idea you'd drop by like this..." Chapter 5 All For Milford Stella arched an eyebrow as she looked her over. "So you're the finance manager?" Shanna nodded with a quick smile. "That's me. If you need anything at all, just say the word. Bradly, well, Mr. Woodard is tied up in a meeting right now. But don't worry, I'll make sure to relay whatever message you have." Stella let out a soft laugh. "No need for that." She regarded Shanna with clear curiosity. "I'm not looking for Bradly. I'm here to see you." Shanna's smile faltered for a moment before she recovered, her tone turning gentle. "Mrs. Woodard, I get that you're still bothered by what went down at the auction last night, but there's no reason to be so worked up about my connection to Mr. Woodard. After all..." She raised her hand, the elegant diamond ring on her finger glinting under the light, perfectly complementing her bashful grin. "I'm already married, and things are great between me and my husband." Stella's eyes locked on the ring, her breath hitching just for an instant. It was ridiculous. In this whole messed-up situation, she was the one playing the role of the mistress. The ring was an exact match for the one Bradly had given her during his proposal. But within seconds, Stella averted her gaze. "It's a lovely ring, but you're mistaken." She spoke unhurriedly, "I'm just here to grab the latest financial report from you. That's all." Stella caught the sour shift in Shanna's expression and smiled to herself. "Seems like you're the one on edge here, Ms. Erickson." Shanna's face transformed completely, that smug spark in her eyes snuffed out. She bit her lip, unable to find words for a long beat. Stella watched her with unruffled poise. "Do I need to repeat my request, Ms. Erickson?" The words had barely left her mouth when Bradly burst in, his expression clouding over at the sight. "Stella, wasn't the scene from last night enough?" His voice was laced with ice. "How long are you planning to drag this out? I've told you already. There's nothing going on between me and Shanna. If you don't believe me..." Stella interrupted him mid-sentence, "Oh, I believe you. Absolutely." A faint smirk tugged at her lips, though her eyes remained frosty as they settled on Shanna. "After all, Ms. Erickson's already married. She just mentioned it herself." The statement landed like a bomb. Shanna's face drained of color, and Bradly's followed suit. He shot her a withering glare. Tears sprang to Shanna's eyes in an instant. Stella had no interest in watching the drama unfold any further. She said evenly, "I'm here for this year's financials. I hold forty percent of the company. Surely I can access that, right?" Bradly seemed to snap back to reality, nodding hastily. "Of course you can." He barked orders at the secretary to fetch it immediately, all the while stealing wary glances at her face. Once he confirmed she wasn't giving anything away, he exhaled almost imperceptibly in relief. He said, "Stella, what's with the sudden interest? You've never bothered with company matters before." Stella answered coolly, "After the account freeze last night, I decided it's smarter to set up a separate one." Bradly's expression froze again. "Stella..." The secretary returned promptly with the report. Stella brushed Bradly aside, skimmed through it quickly, and was heading for the door when he caught her by the wrist. He said, "Stella, about the family dinner tonight, are you coming home with me?" His tone was pleading, like he needed her answer to reassure himself that she hadn't caught on to anything fishy. Stella didn't look back, just replying calmly, "Sure." Bradly's face lit up. "Great, I'll swing by after work to pick you up." Stella dropped her gaze, masking the cool detachment in her eyes. She'd only agreed to head back to the family estate for one specific reason. The marriage license from when she and Bradly had tied the knot was a phony, but he'd made a whole production out of stashing it away at the house, claiming it had to be kept secure. Nothing could serve as stronger proof. Once she got her hands on it, his bigamy would be ironclad. Stella didn't bother waiting for Bradly; she hailed a cab and got there ahead of time. She'd figured it was just a standard family gathering, but she was caught off guard by the full turnout. Bradly's parents, fresh from their overseas vacation last week, were back, and even the distant relatives from the Woodard family's side branches had shown up en masse. "Stella, dear." As she walked in, Nadine Woodard peered over her shoulder. "Bradly didn't come with you?" Stella answered evenly, "He'll be along shortly." Nadine clicked her tongue, her irritation obvious. "On an important occasion like this, letting someone from outside the family arrive solo, what's got into him?" Stella's brow furrowed just a touch. She and Bradly had been engaged since childhood, but after her mother's passing, the Daniels family's status had tanked while the Woodard family kept climbing. That was when Nadine started pushing to scrap the arrangement, and she'd mentioned it more than a few times. But Chuck Woodard was upright and principled, flat-out refusing to play the social-climbing game. With Bradly dead set on marrying her and no one else, Nadine had reluctantly given in, though she made her resentment clear. Even after the marriage, she never passed up an opportunity to give Stella the cold shoulder. She was about to add something else when the butler rushed in and murmured, "He's here." Nadine promptly dropped the subject with Stella and jumped to her feet, the extended family hustling out right behind her to welcome the arrivals. The level of pomp surprised Stella. The Woodard family was already at the top of Ostralver's social elite. For them to pull out all the stops like this... Standing at the edge of the group, Stella glanced up and saw a black Maybach rolling up to the front of the estate. Someone hurried forward to open the door respectfully, and a tall, imposing figure stepped out unhurriedly. The man wore a sleek black suit, his chiseled features sharp, eyes as midnight, radiating a fierce intensity. Every gesture exuded a natural poise and authority that made it tough to hold his stare. The crowd swarmed forward in a rush, but he stayed cool and detached the whole time, his stunningly handsome face as impassive as carved ice, showing zero emotion. Then, as if picking up on something, he looked up toward Stella. Their eyes locked unexpectedly, sending her heart pounding. It was Milford Woodard, Bradly's brother. He'd returned to the country. Though they were brothers in name, Milford wasn't all that tight with the family. He'd headed overseas young and had spent years growing the business abroad. His father Edward Woodard was a total lightweight, good only at spending cash, not earning it. His grandpa Chuck had the smarts and drive, but age was catching up, leaving him unable to manage it all. Real power over the Woodard family had shifted to Milford ages ago. Stella let out a quiet breath. She thought, 'That explains the big crowd today. They've all turned out for Milford.' Chapter 6 Need Help? Stella lingered in the corner of the living room, watching the relatives descend like a swarm of locusts, all scrambling to surround Milford. Bradly stood next to Nadine, flashing a polished smile as he greeted, "Hey, Milford." The uncles who'd been buttering up Bradly just a minute ago quickly switched gears, beaming with over-the-top enthusiasm as they stepped up to say hello. "Milford, what prompted the sudden return?" "Milford, I hear you're in the middle of acquiring a domestic company? You're just getting more impressive by the day." "Come on inside, take a seat. We've got some top-shelf coffee." Bradly caught the stark contrast in the uncles' warmth, his smile fading briefly before he pulled it together and led the way forward. Stella quietly eyed the tall, strikingly handsome Milford striding into the living room like the star of the show, instinctively edging back a step. Now fully pushed to the fringes of the crowd, she shifted aside to let the trailing group pass, doing everything she could to blend into the wallpaper. Milford approached steadily. Unlike Bradly's flashy, outgoing vibe, he had a more brooding, aloof kind of handsomeness, like a pine tree blanketed in snow, regal and intimidating. He acknowledged the flattery around him with simple nods, his eyes scanning the room casually, subtly taking stock of everyone there. Until his gaze swept over Stella again, and he came to an abrupt halt. He paused, causing Bradly to stop too. "Something wrong, Milford?" Milford didn't respond, his steady gaze fixed on Stella. It was only a look, but it jolted her to her core. She felt an odd sense of being claimed, uninvited. Yet she'd barely crossed paths with Milford before. Bradly and the others traced his stare, his eyebrow quirking up. "Stella, come say hi to Big Milford." Stella started to step forward, but Milford beat her to it, walking straight toward her. Bradly and the rest exchanged surprised glances. So far, everyone had been approaching Milford. He hadn't initiated with a soul. Milford's deep eyes gave nothing away. "Stella?" Her breath hitched, like a faint breeze had brushed her ear. She hadn't anticipated him coming over to chat. It had been years, and they'd only met once or twice, but he still remembered her. Stella nodded. "Milford, it's been ages—" Before she could finish, Milford held out his hand. The move was so casual, so natural. Out of pure reflex and politeness, Stella extended hers, their palms connecting. In that brief clasp, she felt him squeeze gently, his thumb settling on her fingers and grazing them with a warm intensity. Milford released after just a second. Suddenly, Bradly sidled up, drawing Stella into his side with an arm around her waist, lacing his fingers through her left hand. He said, "Milford, how long are you in town this time? Stella and I can take you out to dinner one of these days." Milford took in their cozy pose, his glance dropping to their intertwined hands. "About a month." The words had barely left his mouth when Chuck came down the stairs, leaning on the butler for support. Milford headed over to talk with him. Not long after, the kitchen called that the party was ready. Stella trailed Bradly to their seats on the left side of the main table. Everyone filed in and sat. As the eldest branch, the two Woodard brothers took priority. Chuck claimed the head of the main table, with Nadine and Milford next in line. Stella and Bradly fell further down the order, landing her right across from Milford on the diagonal. The family feast got underway, with everyone firing questions at Milford about what he'd been up to lately. Stella kept her head down, nibbling at her food while catching bits of the conversation. Zrester bigwig, major stakeholder in Wonder Group, founder of that financial exchange and the smart transportation AI... Milford's credentials were endless and mind-blowing. She thought back to that Zrester party invite list she'd snagged years ago. Milford was third from the top, while she languished at the bottom. In all these years, she'd had next to no interaction with him. Right after the wedding, this mysterious Milford had only shown up once. He dropped off a gift and vanished. In just a handful of years, Milford had climbed to the pinnacle of Zrester's power players. His talent was obvious. Before long, the family party wound down, and folks scattered to grab desserts. Still hung up on that marriage license, Stella excused herself to head upstairs for a coat change. Bradly was itching to chat with Milford, his gaze fixed that way as he muttered distractedly, "Yeah, go on up." Stella wasted no time hustling upstairs. With the crowd milling about downstairs, she slipped to the third floor of the villa and nudged open Bradly's bedroom door. There it was: the glaring marriage license perched right on top of the nightstand, framed, flanked by their wedding portrait. As she stepped closer, memories of Bradly's cozy moments with Shanna flooded her brain, her nails digging slowly into her palm. That license seared her eyes, like it was sneering at her gullibility. She never should've caved, never should've handed Bradly a second shot. It just went to show that people's hearts circled back for seconds. Disgust flickered in her eyes as she hauled the desk's computer chair over, the kind with wheels and a swivel, shaky at best. She climbed onto it, planting one foot on the bed for stability, teetering just enough to hold steady. Stella hiked up her pearl-white knee-length dress a bit and stretched upward slowly. Fingers extended to the max, but she was still a couple inches shy. She rose onto her tiptoes, straining, but no dice. Frowning from her perch, she scanned around and snagged a book from beside the cabinet. As she leaned down, footsteps suddenly echoed outside the door. Fast, but measured. A man's, for sure. Her pulse spiked. She clutched the table, scrambling to hop down, but, perfect timing, her other sleeve caught on the cabinet's edge. She tugged frantically to break free, but it was too late to descend. The door flew open out of nowhere. Stella went rigid, her knees giving way as she toppled backward off the chair. A quick yelp escaped her, but the expected crash never hit. A firm hand latched precisely onto her thigh, another banding around her waist, hauling her into a solid hold and planting her feet firmly on the floor. She slammed into a warm, toned chest, a crisp, grounding sandalwood aroma enveloping her, not Bradly's scent. Stella glanced up, nearly clipping the guy's chin. Milford let go right away, backing off a step to give her space. Her cheeks burned, the thigh he'd gripped feeling like it was on fire. Mortified and frozen, she stammered, "Th-thanks." Milford stayed composed, his eyes skimming her flushed face and the pinkened patch of skin on her thigh from his hold. His Adam's apple dipped subtly. "Didn't realize you were in here. My bad." Stella shook her head, even more flustered. She was the one imposing on him. Milford flicked a glance upward. "Need some help?" She looked too. Up top, the marriage license screamed for attention. Chapter 7 Don't Let Me Hate You Stella just came out with it. "I want to get the marriage license down." Milford hesitated for a beat, without probing why she needed it, and slid the chair out of the way. Tall and long-limbed, he barely had to tip up on his toes to snag it effortlessly. Milford skimmed the lettering on the license, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes before the faintest quirk tugged at his lips, almost undetectable. He passed it over to Stella. "Ah, I see." She missed the words, taking it with a soft murmur: "Thanks, Milford." Her palms were slick with sweat now, but holding the certificate still sent an icy shiver through her. Those bold letters were a brutal reminder. This whole marriage had been one big joke. From beginning to end, Bradly's grand performance of undying love had always had a third wheel in the shadows. Milford dropped his gaze. Towering over her, all he could make out was the neat swirl at the top of her head, round and oddly appealing. Those slim, pale hands gripped the certificate like a vise, completely bloodless. Milford asked offhandedly, "So, what's the marriage license for?" "Oh, I just want to bring it home and store it there," Stella shot back, pulling an excuse out of thin air. Milford's stare felt like it enveloped her, the heat of it almost scorching, though he kept his hands to himself. Then he casually adjusted his cufflinks and turned to go. Stella let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, sagging against the cool cabinet. Her thigh still tingled with warmth from his grip; she quickly smoothed her skirt down, tucked the license into her bag, and only left the room once everything looked undisturbed. Bradly was still out in the back garden, deep in conversation. Stella kept her face neutral, strolling over to stand at his side. A few relatives were chatting with him. "Hey, word is Milford actually got back a couple days ago, but only tipped us off today." Bradly looked taken aback. "I thought he was flying in today?" "Nope, sounds like he hit up some auction. I only heard bits and pieces, supposedly the other night at the Empire Auction House." "He must not have gone. I was there that evening too, and I didn't see him anywhere," Bradly said, frowning in confusion. Stella's eyelashes flickered subtly, but she played it cool. Out of nowhere, her mind jumped back to that enigmatic bidder in suite 217. She wondered, 'Could Milford be the mystery guest who got the bracelet for me?' She shoved the thought down as soon as it surfaced. They'd only crossed paths once, total strangers really, connected by the flimsiest in-law tie. No matter how you sliced it, Milford wouldn't stick his neck out for her. Just like Bradly said, he hadn't caught wind of anything, so it couldn't be Milford. Stella let it go. After some more mingling, the group started to break up. Bradly steered her over to bid farewell to Milford. "Mom, Milford, we're taking off. Let's set up a family dinner soon when things settle." Milford slouched back in his chair with effortless nonchalance and gave a nod. "I'm knee-deep in an acquisition, no hurry on the get-together. But you..." He lifted his head, his expression sharpening. "Keep your life on the straight and narrow. Don't veer off track." The edge of warning in his voice was crystal clear. Bradly had grown up overshadowed by Milford; he went rigid but brushed it off casually. "Come on, everything's good. My company's running smooth as ever. If you're skeptical, drop by anytime and pore over the financials—knock yourself out." "It's not just about the company," Milford said softly, eyes down as he savored a sip of coffee. Stella couldn't help stealing a glance at him, and in that instant, a ridiculous idea struck her. From what Bradly had mentioned, Milford was abroad most of the time but still had the inside scoop on everything back home. She wondered, 'Does he know about the shady stuff Bradly is up to on the sly?' "Milford, I hear you. I'll make sure to nurture my marriage with Stella, our whole life together." Bradly grinned, threading his fingers through Stella's. Milford's gaze lingered on their joined hands for a second before drifting away, sealed with a subtle nod. Stella had no desire for any more close contact with Bradly, so she subtly shook his hand free without thinking. A split second later, his disbelieving stare locked onto her face, and he tried to grab her again. She'd known her move would humiliate him in the moment, so she didn't bother saying goodbye to Milford. She just turned and walked out ahead. Once they slid into the car, Bradly shed his polite, deferential mask from earlier, reverting to his entitled rich-kid swagger. He tugged his tie loose, a flicker of annoyance pinching his brows. "Always playing the big-brother card to chew me out, same crap since we were little. "So what if he's crushing it overseas? I'm holding my own just fine back home. Who in Ostralver would even think about messing with me?" Bradly fished out a menthol cigarette on autopilot, ready to light up, but he caught himself after glancing at Stella and shoved it back. He said, "All these years, folks have been whispering, or saying it straight to my face, that my company's thriving because of his pull. Like he's behind every damn thing. "And you? You flat-out refused to let me hold your hand back there. Trying to make me look like an idiot in front of him?" His expression iced over, the edge in his voice impossible to miss. Stella's frown deepened as she took it in. Even without knowing Milford all that well, she understood that Bradly's cocky antics in Ostralver, brushing people off like they were nothing, had always been propped up by Milford's clout. She'd assumed the brothers were tight, but clearly Bradly's respect was just for show; underneath, his grudge against Milford simmered deep. She could overlook a lot, but with things the way they were now, there was zero point in him putting on that phony hand-holding act. Stella gripped her bag, the one with the marriage license inside, and couldn't bite her tongue. "We haven't held hands in forever. It feels off to me." The car went dead quiet. She was right. Their physical closeness had dwindled so much that even she couldn't pinpoint the last time. Bradly's brow creased, and he snapped the cigarette filter clean off between his fingers. "What was that?" Stella met his eyes steadily. "From here on out, let's skip the pointless touchy-feely stuff. It just doesn't sit right." She hadn't even finished when the brakes screeched harshly. The car lurched to a halt on the empty shoulder of the road. Stella almost smacked into the window from the force, her pulse hammering as she barked, "Are you out of your mind?" Bradly loomed over her, fingers digging into her chin, irritation boiling in his glare. "Stella, do you have any idea what you're saying?" The pinch stung like crazy, and the absurdity of it all hit her as she wrestled to shove him off. "Is it not true? When's the last time we even held hands. Can you remember?" Bradly's gaze turned stormy, like she'd struck a raw spot. "I bet you're hung up on Milford, just like that girl from the second branch. That's why you pulled away in front of him. You're trying to cut ties with me?" "Bradly! What the hell are you babbling about?" Anger surged through her as she pushed harder. "Don't you dare pin your gross history on me!" The way the family had orbited Milford like he was the sun had obviously gotten under his skin. The more she resisted, the darker his look grew. Abruptly, he leaned in and smashed his mouth against hers. Stella's eyes flew wide, her head whipping aside to evade as she hammered at his shoulders with everything she had. He'd locked lips with Shanna god knows how often. The thought turned her stomach, so she clamped down and bit him hard. Bradly yelped in pain, jerking back as the fog cleared and he clocked what he'd just done, regret flashing across his face. Blood dotted his lip, but he brushed it off, lunging to wrap her in his arms. "I'm sorry, Stella, baby, I'm so sorry. I screwed up; it was a stupid impulse..." Drained of energy, Stella sagged into the passenger seat, letting him hold her while a barren wave of emptiness and revulsion washed over her. The hug she'd once melted into now repulsed her to her core. "Get off me." Her voice came out rough and scratchy. "Bradly, don't push me to hating you."
Chapter 1 Don't Want Him Anymore "I'm sorry, ma'am." On the other end of the line, the insurance customer service rep said coolly, "After checking our records, the car owner, Mr. Woodard, is indeed married, but the spouse listed here isn't you." Stella Daniels had gotten into a car accident on her way to the Woodard Group headquarters. She couldn't get through to Bradly Woodard on his phone, so she had no choice but to call the insurance company. The car was registered in Bradly's name, but as his wife, she should be able to process the claim too. "When Mr. Woodard picked up the car, he came with his wife and provided the original marriage license. Her last name is Erickson, and her full name is Shanna Erickson," the rep said. It hit Stella like a slap in the face. Dizziness washed over her in waves, leaving her whole body shaking uncontrollably. She and Bradly had been childhood sweethearts. Their families were old friends, and everyone in Ostralver's high society knew how clingy he was with her. Bradly couldn't stand being apart from her even for a single day. Three years ago, when Stella headed abroad for her studies, Bradly had the plane stopped just for her. During her three years in Ensland, he expanded his business overseas to make it easier to look after her. Sixteen thousand miles apart, he'd still fly across the ocean every week to see her. The year she came down with a severe lung illness and nearly didn't pull through, she spent a week in intensive care. Bradly ignored the infection risks and stayed right by her side, sliding a ring onto her finger. He said, "If anything happens to you, I'll go with you. We'll be husband and wife in the next life too." For Bradly's sake, she turned down her mentor's offer to stay on in the lab and headed back home. Brimming with excitement, she went to find him, planning to surprise him. But when she pushed open the door to the CEO's office, she saw a slender, pretty woman straddling his lap. The woman's innocent face tilted upward, her voice whiny and aggrieved. "Mr. Woodard, what happens to me now that Stella is back?" Bradly sat in his executive chair, his tall frame looming over her. A flash of ruthlessness crossed his stern features. "You? You're just her stand-in. Don't forget your place." He lifted his hand, pinching her delicate chin with a sneer. "Barely a three-out-of-ten resemblance, and you think you can compare to her?" Stella was still clutching the gift she'd prepared for him. With a loud "bang," it dropped to the floor, finally breaking the scene in the office. Bradly's face drained of color as he shoved the woman off and jumped to his feet. That woman was Shanna. After Stella caught them in the act, Bradly fired Shanna on the spot and pulled out all the stops to win her back. Bradly, the arrogant prince of Ostralver's elite circles, humbled himself to the dust before her, begging her to give him another chance. Any project she set her sights on, he'd drop without a second thought. He stood in the pouring rain outside her building for over a week, just for a glimpse of her. He said, "Stella, I'm not asking you to forgive me. At least let me explain. "I only ever saw Shanna as your replacement. You've been gone abroad for so long; I missed you terribly. I swear, I just kept her around. Nothing more ever happened between us. "That time you walked in, I'd had too much to drink, and she deliberately tempted me. I lost control for a moment... "I've already let her go, and she won't show up in our lives again. Stella, please, come back to me." Back then, Stella couldn't stand even the slightest betrayal. She insisted on breaking off the engagement. Until that one incident. She was kidnapped by a business rival. The kidnappers reneged on the deal, tied her up in an abandoned factory, and set the place ablaze. Bradly charged into the flames without a second thought to rescue her, shielding her from a collapsing steel beam. He ended up gravely injured, confined to bed for nearly six months. By risking his life, Bradly finally melted her resolve. Once he was out of the hospital, she accepted his proposal, and they threw a lavish wedding. In the two years since they tied the knot, he'd treated her just as devotedly as ever, with zero scandals. He even imposed a strict curfew on himself, heading home right on time every day. Even on out-of-town business trips, he'd video call her constantly. His partners would tease him about being henpecked. He never denied it. Instead, he'd grin proudly and say, "A real man takes care of his family." Memories rushed through Stella's mind like a whirlwind, every past moment flashing by in a blur. Her legs buckled, and she dropped to her knees, burying her face in her hands. She couldn't figure out which Bradly was the real one anymore. A bitter, mocking gleam sparked in her eyes. She thought, 'How absurd.' She'd been his wife for two years, and only now was she learning that even their marriage license had been a sham. Stella scrubbed her face hard, her bangs already soaked with cold sweat. She ignored the other driver's furious yelling and calmly dialed the police. They showed up fast. After finishing her statement, Stella left the station under a sky that had gone completely dark. Her phone lit up with several missed calls from Bradly. When she hadn't answered, he'd sent texts instead. Bradly: [Babe, I was tied up in a key meeting this afternoon. Signal jammers were on, so I missed your call. You okay?] Bradly: [I've got a client dinner tonight, so I'll be late getting home. I double-checked: no women involved, so no need to worry.] Bradly: [Head to bed early. Don't wait up. Love you.] Stella stared at the screen, a sharp wave of irony twisting in her gut. Bradly didn't stagger in until the wee hours. He reeked of alcohol, which almost, but not quite, masked the subtle whiff of perfume on him. "Honey..." He could barely keep his balance, stumbling over to wrap his arms around her through the blanket. "I missed you so damn much..." Stella didn't say a word. Only once he was dead to the world did she sit up quietly and unlock his phone with his fingerprint. The thing was squeaky clean, no suspicious traces at all. His contacts were mostly buddies and business folks, with hers pinned at the top as "Darling Wife." Flawlessly tidy, just like their sham of a marriage. Stella hooked the phone up to her computer, and it didn't take long to uncover his second WhatsApp account. She signed in, and right away, messages popped up from a profile with a cute pink kitten avatar, labeled "Baby." Shanna: [Bradly, thanks for tonight. Without you, I wouldn't have known what to do.] Shanna: [I've always thought meeting you was the luckiest thing that's ever happened to me. I won't intrude on your life. As long as you swing by to see me once in a while, that's enough to make me happy.] Stella scrolled back through the history. She'd suspected as much, but seeing it all laid out still hit her like a punch to the chest, leaving her breathless. They chatted nearly every day. Shanna never missed a good morning message, and Bradly's replies had shifted over time, from total silence at first, to sporadic responses, and now to answering every single one. A chill spread through her. Stella clutched the phone tighter, knowing she should quit while she was ahead but unable to stop herself from digging deeper. Shanna: [Bradly, sorry, I had a few drinks and lost it for a bit. Doc says I'm okay now, so don't stress.] Shanna: [Mrs. Woodard's birthday bash is important. Go enjoy it with her. I'll be fine.] Stella squeezed her eyes shut as the memory came rushing back. Her birthday. Bradly had spent over a month planning it down to the last detail, but that day, he was totally distracted. Hell, he almost cut his own hand while slicing the cake. When she'd asked what was up, he'd brushed it off as work drama, told her not to worry, then pulled her into a soft embrace and encouraged her to blow out the candles and make a wish. It all made sense now, as she stared at this chat log. That same day, Shanna had tried to kill herself by slashing her wrists and ended up in the ER. A sour bitterness flooded her chest like a rising tide. In those brief seconds when she'd closed her eyes to wish, she wondered, 'Was he agonizing over Shanna in the hospital, or picturing endless years together with her?' Stella knew she didn't need an answer to that anymore. She gently placed the phone back and looked down at Bradly, fast asleep beside her. She'd known him since she was four, and for the twenty years that followed, she'd truly believed his love was hers alone, irreplaceable. But now she saw it for what it was: just cheap free samples at a store, handed out to anyone who walked by. If that was all it amounted to, she was done with it. Chapter 2 Bid Against Her The next day, Stella woke to find Bradly busy in the kitchen, his broad shoulders narrowing to a slim waist, his tall, lean build moving with purpose. The sight hit her hard, a dull ache tightening in her chest. Bradly had learned to cook entirely for her sake. She still remembered that turbulent period when the Woodard Group was in crisis. His rivals had targeted her, paying off a servant to poison her food. She'd been unconscious for three full days. When she finally woke, Bradly was there, his eyes red-rimmed and veined with exhaustion, gripping her hand like a lifeline. The instant she stirred, the imposing Bradly crumbled forward, enveloping her in a hug as scalding tears fell onto her skin. From then on, Bradly threw himself into cooking lessons, taking charge of all her meals. In less than a month, he'd gone from a spoiled elite who couldn't distinguish spices to turning out dishes worthy of a Michelin chef. Just then, his phone rang. Stella glanced at it but made no move to answer. Bradly darted out of the kitchen, apron still on, grabbing the phone with a barely concealed flash of anxiety. Stella pretended not to notice and went to wash up. When she came back, the table was set with breakfast, and he was slipping into his suit jacket from the coat rack. Seeing her, he said gently, "There's an emergency at work. I have to run. Sorry I can't join you for breakfast." Stella murmured, "Sure, work comes first." He was clearly in a hurry, because he didn't pick up on the new edge of cool distance in her tone and rushed out. She stared blankly after him until he was gone, then dumped the entire spread into the trash. Then she picked up her phone and dialed a number. "That offer you made before? I'm on board." The person on the other end erupted in delight, chattering away before shifting to broken Andosa Language. "Stella, why the sudden change of heart? I've bugged you about this so many times, and you always said you were married now and focusing on family." A mocking glint flickered in Stella's eyes. She thought, 'Married? This so-called marriage has been dead on arrival.' The caller was her former mentor from her overseas studies. He'd reached out lately, hoping she'd join his new team and spearhead a major project. At the time, she'd kept saying no out of loyalty to Bradly. Now, she only wished she'd seen through the absurd joke of their marriage earlier. After the call, she contacted immigration to schedule a passport renewal. It would take about a week. But before heading out, she had one loose end to tie up. That evening, Stella showed up at a private auction at the Cloud Hotel. She was after one of her mother's keepsakes. Her mom had died when she was eight, and soon after, the Daniels family had liquidated her wedding gift. Stella had been hunting down the items ever since. Over the years, she'd only reclaimed a few. Tonight's auction featured a bracelet from that collection, one her mother had picked up on a trip to Ijance. It was utterly unique, irreplaceable. Whatever it took, she was getting it back. Stella settled into her seat just as the auction was about to start. She was flipping through the catalog when Bradly's voice floated over. "Didn't I already pick out that royal blue sapphire set for you? Not good enough?" His voice carried that familiar tenderness. Shanna linked her arm with his, pouting playfully. "Your taste sucks! I want to pick my own birthday gift." Stella watched them quietly until Bradly threaded through the guests and their gazes collided by chance. The color drained from his face. On pure reflex, he jerked his arm away from Shanna. "Stella." He strode over quickly. "I tried calling you a few times, but you didn't answer. Were you planning to surprise me?" Even though he tried to play it cool, she could still catch that subtle hint of panic in his expression. Stella didn't bother calling him on it, replying evenly, "My phone was on silent. I didn't hear it." Bradly visibly relaxed, casually taking her hand in his with a look of concern. "Your hands are like ice. Didn't I warn you about the cold snap today? You're always putting style over staying warm. If you catch a chill, you know it'll just kill me." As he talked, he signaled a server for a blanket and draped it snugly around her shoulders. Stella kept a straight face, brushing him off as she looked past him to Shanna, who lingered behind with a scowl. Shanna nibbled her lip, then defiantly dropped into the seat next to Bradly, her gaze simmering with irritation. Bradly leaned closer, dropping his voice to explain, "We just wrapped up a major project at the company, and Shanna pulled her weight big time. Her birthday's around the corner, so I thought I'd treat her to something as a project bonus." He eyed her anxiously. "Stella, you're not mad, right?" Shanna piped up in a soft, vulnerable tone. "Mrs. Woodard, if this upsets you, I'll just go. I don't want to get in the way of you and Mr. Woodard." Stella's mouth quirked into a smile that never touched her eyes. "We're married. A little thing like this? Of course it doesn't bother me." The auction got underway shortly after. Bradly treated Shanna like she was invisible, focusing entirely on Stella. He paged through the catalog, throwing in bids left and right. "Babe, this would look amazing on you." He grinned, tenderly brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his tone warm and intimate. "You'd be gorgeous in it." Stella averted her eyes, but out of the corner of her vision, she saw Shanna discreetly clutching the edge of Bradly's jacket in the dim light. Their gazes locked for a split second in a shared, lingering look. She masked the derision in her own eyes, struck by how absurd it all was. Bradly seemed totally at ease juggling both women, convinced he was keeping things balanced, one with the official status, the other with his undivided public attention. She thought, 'What could be fairer than that?' But Stella had never been interested in that kind of equilibrium. Her world extended far beyond romance. Bradly? He was just a small detour on her path, a misstep she'd own up to. And now, it was time to set things right. "Next up: a string of bracelet. Fine-grained texture, deep aroma that lingers. Starting bid at 170,000 dollars, with increments of at least 20,000 dollars!" The auctioneer's pumped-up voice echoed through the room. Finally, Stella's main target for the evening. Bids flew in fast, the screen flickering with updates as the auctioneer called out, "Number 17 lady at 200,000 dollars! Number 9 gentleman ups it to 260,000 dollars! Going higher?" Once the initial frenzy tapered off, Stella lifted her paddle. "500,000 dollars." She'd doubled the current bid in one go. It was a hefty amount. Sure, the bracelet was top-notch, but it wasn't the auction's highlight. The room went quiet after her call; no one countered. "Fantastic! Number 11 lady at 500,000 dollars! "500,000 dollars once! 500,000 dollars twice!" The auctioneer hoisted his gavel, poised to bring it down. "No more bids? Then 500,000 dollars—" "520,000 dollars," A gentle, hesitant voice interrupted. Shanna shrank against Bradly's side, paddle in hand, murmuring timidly to him, "Is this where I put in the amount?" Chapter 3 You're Dirty Stella frowned and raised her bid. "540,000 dollars." But Shanna was right behind her, countering with, "560,000 dollars." How annoyingly precise, each time, she stuck to the bare minimum, slapping on just 20,000 dollars more than Stella's offer. Shanna turned toward her, her voice dripping with plea. "Stella, you've got plenty of jewelry already. Please, let me have this one. I adore it. "I'm not like you, born with money, everything handed to you on a silver platter. You snap your fingers and get whatever you want. If it goes any higher, I really won't be able to keep up." Stella didn't bother looking at her, just quirking her lips in a thin smile. "Isn't Mr. Woodard covering the cost for you? What are you stressing about?" Shanna's face went a shade paler, but she answered in that soft, demure tone, "Even so, Mr. Woodard earns his money the hard way. If I can save him a bit, I ought to." She was the epitome of considerate and caring. After several more back-and-forth bids, the bracelet's price had soared to 700,000 dollars. Stella let out a chilly scoff and was opening her mouth to up the ante when Bradly beat her to it. He said, "Babe, why don't we just let Shanna take this bracelet?" Stella's fingers curled into a tight fist, her nails biting into her palm. She lifted her gaze, any lingering warmth in her eyes turning to ice. "What did you just say?" Bradly let out a resigned sigh, giving her hand a comforting pat as he murmured gently, "Babe, I already told Shanna she'd get a gift tonight, and she's got her heart set on this one. No need to compete with her. "Plus, I've already snagged you a handful of other pieces. Isn't that plenty?" He said it all lightly, teasingly, as if it were nothing more than a harmless quip. Stella shut her eyes, a nameless sourness creeping along her nerves, coiling around her heart until it felt like she couldn't draw a breath. Given Shanna's modest background, 700,000 dollars was way out of her league. She wouldn't even make the guest list here on her own. The only reason she was in that seat, trading bids blow for blow, was Bradly's backing. His pampering had delivered her straight into Stella's path. Stella whispered, "What if I refuse to back down?" She hoisted her paddle once more, her voice echoing through the room. "1 million dollars." A hush blanketed the hall. The auctioneer clearly picked up on the drama, his delivery faltering. "Number eleven at 1 million dollars. Do I hear higher?" Shanna's eyes welled up, on the verge of tears, as she cast a helpless look at Bradly before tacking on another fifty thousand. "1 million 20 thousand dollars." Stella's features hardened to frost, and she was poised to fire back when the manager bustled over, bending close to murmur, "Mrs. Woodard, apologies. We ran a credit verification on your account, and it's frozen. Got another one we can use?" The words slammed into her like a bolt from the blue, ringing in her ears. She snapped her head toward Bradly, but he'd already looked away. An icy numbness spread through her arms and legs. She though,t 'Of course, it has to be him.' Her primary account was linked with his; besides her, only he could authorize a freeze on her cards. Triumph flickered in Shanna's eyes as she added with a pointed edge, "Well, in that case, Mrs. Woodard, maybe it's time to step aside. You've got so much already. Can't you let me have this one little thing?" Up on stage, the auction rolled on, the display frozen on Shanna's latest bid: 1 million 20 thousand dollars. Shanna could hardly hide her glee, chirping sweetly, "Go on, call it!" But the words had barely left her lips when someone announced he would bid for the lot at any costs right in the second-floor VIP suite. After a momentary silence, the room burst into chaos. "He's declared absolute intent!" Even the auctioneer's expression changed. He'd been in the game for over a decade, but this was his first encounter with such a scenario. He hurriedly called out, "Lot number six goes to the gentleman in box 217, regardless of how high the price goes." Anyone up in those second-floor VIP suites was either swimming in money or held serious sway in Ostralver's upper crust. Stella glanced upward toward the source of the voice, catching only a vague outline behind the draped curtains. Even when she couldn't see his face, the man's crossed-legged posture radiated an unspoken dominance that pressed down on the room. The auctioneer slammed his gavel down with finality, proclaiming, "Congratulations to our esteemed guest in box 217 on winning lot number six! You're now upgraded to black gold status!" Across all of Ostralver's elite scene, fewer than a handful had ever hit black gold level at these events. Stella wondered, 'Just who is this mystery man?' Stella loosened her clenched fist slightly, torn between relief that her mother's heirloom hadn't landed in Shanna's clutches and anxiety over reclaiming it from this unknown figure. No matter what, she'd stop at nothing, pay any price, to bring her mother's possession home. She rose to her feet, intent on marching over to box 217 for a chat, when the attendant who'd just ducked inside reappeared, tray in hand with the bracelet. "What's this? The bidder in 217 having second thoughts?" "Auctions don't do take-backs." "Probably short on funds. I called it. No one's done this here before." As the murmurs swirled, the attendant headed straight for Stella, dipping into a courteous bow with a warm smile. She said, "Mrs. Woodard, the gentleman in box 217 requests that I deliver the bracelet to you as a gift. He wishes for you to follow your true path and for all to unfold as it should." The place erupted in gossip once more, with guests shooting glances her way, some envious, others skeptical, many flat-out stunned. "Isn't that Mrs. Woodard? What's her deal with the upstairs guy?" "Likely just buttering up Mr. Woodard." "Nah, I don't buy it. Out of all the goodies tonight, why zero in on those beads for Mrs. Woodard? Sounds like she's got a real connection there." The buzz filtered through, and Bradly's face turned stone-cold. In a tight, edged voice, he demanded, "Stella, what's the story with you and whoever's in box 217?" Stella held his piercing stare and said flatly, "I have no idea who he is." "!" Bradly jumped up, clamping down on her wrist like a vice. Her soft, fair skin reddened almost instantly under the pressure. Stella winced sharply, jerking her arm back on reflex. "Bradly, have you lost your mind? Haven't you stirred up enough drama for one day?" But he barreled on, blind to her fury, his reddened eyes locked on her as if he could swallow her up. "What's really between you two? "Stella, through all our married years, I've bent over backward for you. Anything you desired, I served it up without question. Why would you betray me like this?" In his mind, it was already a done deal: she was entangled in something shady with the man above. If the guy was angling for a favor from him, Bradly would've recognized him right away. People in Ostralver didn't beat around the bush when they needed something from him. They came direct. The jab landed raw and direct. Bradly blinked, frozen for a beat as a flicker of alarm shot through his eyes. Chapter 4 Don't Know You'd Come Bradly said, "I'm sorry, Stella. I didn't mean it like that. I had no right getting jealous over you and some stranger. It's all on me." Bradly's eyes reddened. "But honestly, there's nothing going on between Shanna and me. I just brought her along as a thank-you. Can you let this slide?" Seeing his cue, Shanna ducked her head meekly, her voice catching. "That's right, Mrs. Woodard. I've been bending over backward to keep my distance from Mr. Woodard so you wouldn't get the wrong impression. "I'm not asking for the world, just a decent birthday gift. I didn't grow up with your advantages; you've had everything handed to you and even snagged a catch like Mr. Woodard. Can't I at least pick out something for myself?" "Just a gift, huh?" Stella closed in on her, one step at a time. "Ms. Erickson, I've never given a damn about this 'gift' you're going on about. What gets under my skin is you, a Woodard Group employee, crossing lines you have no business crossing." As they drew closer, Bradly instinctively stepped in front of Shanna, his voice soft and coaxing. "Stella, if it's bugging you this much, I'll transfer her to a branch office once the auction's over. "But for now, cut me some slack. Let Shanna have the bracelet. When we get home, name your price on anything, and it's yours." Shanna bobbed her head in agreement, tears glistening on her lashes as she pleaded, "Stella, I really adore this bracelet. You've got it all already. Why go after the one thing I want? "Or is this just because you hate my guts and can't resist taking shots at me?" "What makes you think I'd ever like you?" Stella let out a cold snort. "This belonged to me from the start. Why the hell would I give it up?" She took the bracelet from the attendant with casual ease, her smile sharp but empty. "Ms. Erickson, know your place." Her refusal to budge finally wore through Bradly's patience, erasing every bit of softness from his face. "Stella, do you have to humiliate me like this in front of everyone? Where does that leave my dignity? "It's just a crappy old bracelet. Am I really worth less to you than some trinket?" He said it with such conviction, as if he'd wiped from his memory the solemn vow he'd made when proposing: that he'd hunt down every single one of her mother's sold-off keepsakes, no matter what. Stella's hand flew up, delivering a resounding slap across his cheek. The sharp crack rang out, pulling shocked stares from every corner of the room. Bradly's head snapped sideways, his face livid as he fixed her with a glare, his words hissing through clenched teeth. "Stella, drop the drama already. Have I pampered you too much these days, turning you into this unreasonable nightmare?" Stella reined in her temper, keeping her tone even. "Bradly, you better not live to regret today." Without another word, she turned and walked out, not sparing a backward glance. As her figure receded, Shanna gently touched the angry red mark on Bradly's cheek, her voice full of worry. "Mr. Woodard, are you okay? "Stella's got no boundaries. How could she hit you with all these people watching?" Bradly swatted her hand aside, his nails digging into his palm as he stared after her retreating path. "I've spoiled her rotten, letting her forget that everything she has comes from me." Shanna peeked at his changing expression, testing the waters. "Mr. Woodard, about the bracelet..." Bradly rubbed his throbbing cheek, pulled a bank card from his pocket, and handed it over. "1.7 million dollars on there. Buy whatever catches your eye." Box 217, Stella rapped on the door, eager to thank the mystery bidder face-to-face. Silence. She caught a server walking by. "Excuse me, any idea where the gentleman from this box headed?" "He slipped out right after nabbing the last item," the server said. Disappointment flashed in her eyes, but Stella pressed on, "Do you know who he was?" The server gave her a regretful smile. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard, we're not allowed to spill on our VIPs. Don't make this harder for us." Catching herself, Stella moved out of the way. "Thanks all the same." By the time she made it home from the auction, an hour had ticked by. Stella went straight up to the study, fired up the computer, and dove into the assets registered under her and Bradly's names. After tallying up the numbers, she snatched her phone, found lawyer Rubin Cobb's contact, and hit dial. She said, "I've sorted out the asset division documents for me and Bradly and sent them over. I need you to handle the property split by tomorrow." Rubin quickly received the files and nodded respectfully. "Of course, Mrs. Woodard. I'll get right on it." Stella stared intently at her computer screen, her grip tightening on the mouse. "If Bradly's committed bigamy, how should our assets be divided?" "Generally, any property the bigamous party gained through the bigamy can be claimed back by the other spouse," Rubin replied matter-of-factly. Half of Bradly's current wealth had come from Stella's investments to support his career early on. Her expression darkened, and she promptly forwarded the marriage license between him and Shanna. "Rubin, please use every legal avenue to recover my half of the assets." After hanging up, Stella slumped back in her chair, utterly drained physically and emotionally. She closed her eyes slowly, but sleep was nowhere in sight. Bradly would never agree to a divorce. Until she had everything locked down, she couldn't let on that anything was amiss. Just then, the study door was kicked open from the outside. Bradly flung his jacket onto the desk and yanked Stella up from her seat in front of the computer. "Do you realize that because of your little outburst, I've become a laughingstock in our circles? "What exactly do you want? Are you still obsessing over what happened back then?" Stella opened her eyes slowly, her gaze settling calmly on Bradly, but she remained silent. A fire raged in Bradly's chest, intensifying by the second, and he couldn't hold back his fury any longer. "Since we got married, have I ever done anything to wrong you? I come home right on time every night after work, I always fill you in on any business dinners, and if there's even a hint of a woman involved, I skip them entirely! I've bent over backward, and it's still not good enough for you?" He remembered every detail crystal clear. In his mind, these were the sacrifices he'd made to marry her. Stella suddenly found the whole thing absurd. She couldn't bear to look at him anymore, so she stood up and walked straight out of the study without a backward glance. Behind her, Bradly's voice echoed heavily. "Stella, no matter what you think, my conscience is clear." It felt like Stella's heart had been shattered into icy fragments, a sharp, bitter pain surging through her. Her mind buzzed, and for a moment, all she could hear was that phrase repeating over and over. She thought, 'My conscience is clear? So, in his eyes, everything he's done is perfectly justifiable.' The next morning, when Stella woke up, Bradly was already gone. On the table sat the breakfast he'd prepared, tailored exactly to her tastes. Stella pressed her lips together, her feelings a complicated tangle. They'd ended things on a sour note last night, yet Bradly had still made her breakfast this morning. But this was the same man who'd lied to her for years. No matter what, it was time to end things with Bradly. She didn't touch the food and headed straight to the office. These past few years, she'd stayed out of Bradly's business dealings. A lot of her old financial records were outdated now, and she needed the latest reports. The secretary looked startled when she saw her, then managed to say, "Mrs. Woodard, are you here to see Mr. Woodard?" "No." Stella replied evenly. "Send the finance manager in to see me." Her shares were second only to Bradly's, giving her full access to every aspect of the company. The secretary hesitated briefly before nodding. Stella noticed her immediately turning to make a phone call, probably alerting Bradly. Stella didn't intervene; let her. She settled into the finance office, sipping her coffee absentmindedly while flipping through magazines on the shelf. Most were glossy entertainment rags, mixed in with novels and comics. Stella frowned, only now picking up on the details: the desk was covered in a pink plaid mat, cluttered with adorable plush toys. The standout pair was a set of couple dolls, their outfits emblazoned with the letters W and E. It hit Stella suddenly what that meant, and just then, the door behind her swung open. Shanna rushed in. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard." She was clutching a cup of coffee as she apologized. "I had no idea you'd drop by like this..." Chapter 5 All For Milford Stella arched an eyebrow as she looked her over. "So you're the finance manager?" Shanna nodded with a quick smile. "That's me. If you need anything at all, just say the word. Bradly, well, Mr. Woodard is tied up in a meeting right now. But don't worry, I'll make sure to relay whatever message you have." Stella let out a soft laugh. "No need for that." She regarded Shanna with clear curiosity. "I'm not looking for Bradly. I'm here to see you." Shanna's smile faltered for a moment before she recovered, her tone turning gentle. "Mrs. Woodard, I get that you're still bothered by what went down at the auction last night, but there's no reason to be so worked up about my connection to Mr. Woodard. After all..." She raised her hand, the elegant diamond ring on her finger glinting under the light, perfectly complementing her bashful grin. "I'm already married, and things are great between me and my husband." Stella's eyes locked on the ring, her breath hitching just for an instant. It was ridiculous. In this whole messed-up situation, she was the one playing the role of the mistress. The ring was an exact match for the one Bradly had given her during his proposal. But within seconds, Stella averted her gaze. "It's a lovely ring, but you're mistaken." She spoke unhurriedly, "I'm just here to grab the latest financial report from you. That's all." Stella caught the sour shift in Shanna's expression and smiled to herself. "Seems like you're the one on edge here, Ms. Erickson." Shanna's face transformed completely, that smug spark in her eyes snuffed out. She bit her lip, unable to find words for a long beat. Stella watched her with unruffled poise. "Do I need to repeat my request, Ms. Erickson?" The words had barely left her mouth when Bradly burst in, his expression clouding over at the sight. "Stella, wasn't the scene from last night enough?" His voice was laced with ice. "How long are you planning to drag this out? I've told you already. There's nothing going on between me and Shanna. If you don't believe me..." Stella interrupted him mid-sentence, "Oh, I believe you. Absolutely." A faint smirk tugged at her lips, though her eyes remained frosty as they settled on Shanna. "After all, Ms. Erickson's already married. She just mentioned it herself." The statement landed like a bomb. Shanna's face drained of color, and Bradly's followed suit. He shot her a withering glare. Tears sprang to Shanna's eyes in an instant. Stella had no interest in watching the drama unfold any further. She said evenly, "I'm here for this year's financials. I hold forty percent of the company. Surely I can access that, right?" Bradly seemed to snap back to reality, nodding hastily. "Of course you can." He barked orders at the secretary to fetch it immediately, all the while stealing wary glances at her face. Once he confirmed she wasn't giving anything away, he exhaled almost imperceptibly in relief. He said, "Stella, what's with the sudden interest? You've never bothered with company matters before." Stella answered coolly, "After the account freeze last night, I decided it's smarter to set up a separate one." Bradly's expression froze again. "Stella..." The secretary returned promptly with the report. Stella brushed Bradly aside, skimmed through it quickly, and was heading for the door when he caught her by the wrist. He said, "Stella, about the family dinner tonight, are you coming home with me?" His tone was pleading, like he needed her answer to reassure himself that she hadn't caught on to anything fishy. Stella didn't look back, just replying calmly, "Sure." Bradly's face lit up. "Great, I'll swing by after work to pick you up." Stella dropped her gaze, masking the cool detachment in her eyes. She'd only agreed to head back to the family estate for one specific reason. The marriage license from when she and Bradly had tied the knot was a phony, but he'd made a whole production out of stashing it away at the house, claiming it had to be kept secure. Nothing could serve as stronger proof. Once she got her hands on it, his bigamy would be ironclad. Stella didn't bother waiting for Bradly; she hailed a cab and got there ahead of time. She'd figured it was just a standard family gathering, but she was caught off guard by the full turnout. Bradly's parents, fresh from their overseas vacation last week, were back, and even the distant relatives from the Woodard family's side branches had shown up en masse. "Stella, dear." As she walked in, Nadine Woodard peered over her shoulder. "Bradly didn't come with you?" Stella answered evenly, "He'll be along shortly." Nadine clicked her tongue, her irritation obvious. "On an important occasion like this, letting someone from outside the family arrive solo, what's got into him?" Stella's brow furrowed just a touch. She and Bradly had been engaged since childhood, but after her mother's passing, the Daniels family's status had tanked while the Woodard family kept climbing. That was when Nadine started pushing to scrap the arrangement, and she'd mentioned it more than a few times. But Chuck Woodard was upright and principled, flat-out refusing to play the social-climbing game. With Bradly dead set on marrying her and no one else, Nadine had reluctantly given in, though she made her resentment clear. Even after the marriage, she never passed up an opportunity to give Stella the cold shoulder. She was about to add something else when the butler rushed in and murmured, "He's here." Nadine promptly dropped the subject with Stella and jumped to her feet, the extended family hustling out right behind her to welcome the arrivals. The level of pomp surprised Stella. The Woodard family was already at the top of Ostralver's social elite. For them to pull out all the stops like this... Standing at the edge of the group, Stella glanced up and saw a black Maybach rolling up to the front of the estate. Someone hurried forward to open the door respectfully, and a tall, imposing figure stepped out unhurriedly. The man wore a sleek black suit, his chiseled features sharp, eyes as midnight, radiating a fierce intensity. Every gesture exuded a natural poise and authority that made it tough to hold his stare. The crowd swarmed forward in a rush, but he stayed cool and detached the whole time, his stunningly handsome face as impassive as carved ice, showing zero emotion. Then, as if picking up on something, he looked up toward Stella. Their eyes locked unexpectedly, sending her heart pounding. It was Milford Woodard, Bradly's brother. He'd returned to the country. Though they were brothers in name, Milford wasn't all that tight with the family. He'd headed overseas young and had spent years growing the business abroad. His father Edward Woodard was a total lightweight, good only at spending cash, not earning it. His grandpa Chuck had the smarts and drive, but age was catching up, leaving him unable to manage it all. Real power over the Woodard family had shifted to Milford ages ago. Stella let out a quiet breath. She thought, 'That explains the big crowd today. They've all turned out for Milford.' Chapter 6 Need Help? Stella lingered in the corner of the living room, watching the relatives descend like a swarm of locusts, all scrambling to surround Milford. Bradly stood next to Nadine, flashing a polished smile as he greeted, "Hey, Milford." The uncles who'd been buttering up Bradly just a minute ago quickly switched gears, beaming with over-the-top enthusiasm as they stepped up to say hello. "Milford, what prompted the sudden return?" "Milford, I hear you're in the middle of acquiring a domestic company? You're just getting more impressive by the day." "Come on inside, take a seat. We've got some top-shelf coffee." Bradly caught the stark contrast in the uncles' warmth, his smile fading briefly before he pulled it together and led the way forward. Stella quietly eyed the tall, strikingly handsome Milford striding into the living room like the star of the show, instinctively edging back a step. Now fully pushed to the fringes of the crowd, she shifted aside to let the trailing group pass, doing everything she could to blend into the wallpaper. Milford approached steadily. Unlike Bradly's flashy, outgoing vibe, he had a more brooding, aloof kind of handsomeness, like a pine tree blanketed in snow, regal and intimidating. He acknowledged the flattery around him with simple nods, his eyes scanning the room casually, subtly taking stock of everyone there. Until his gaze swept over Stella again, and he came to an abrupt halt. He paused, causing Bradly to stop too. "Something wrong, Milford?" Milford didn't respond, his steady gaze fixed on Stella. It was only a look, but it jolted her to her core. She felt an odd sense of being claimed, uninvited. Yet she'd barely crossed paths with Milford before. Bradly and the others traced his stare, his eyebrow quirking up. "Stella, come say hi to Big Milford." Stella started to step forward, but Milford beat her to it, walking straight toward her. Bradly and the rest exchanged surprised glances. So far, everyone had been approaching Milford. He hadn't initiated with a soul. Milford's deep eyes gave nothing away. "Stella?" Her breath hitched, like a faint breeze had brushed her ear. She hadn't anticipated him coming over to chat. It had been years, and they'd only met once or twice, but he still remembered her. Stella nodded. "Milford, it's been ages—" Before she could finish, Milford held out his hand. The move was so casual, so natural. Out of pure reflex and politeness, Stella extended hers, their palms connecting. In that brief clasp, she felt him squeeze gently, his thumb settling on her fingers and grazing them with a warm intensity. Milford released after just a second. Suddenly, Bradly sidled up, drawing Stella into his side with an arm around her waist, lacing his fingers through her left hand. He said, "Milford, how long are you in town this time? Stella and I can take you out to dinner one of these days." Milford took in their cozy pose, his glance dropping to their intertwined hands. "About a month." The words had barely left his mouth when Chuck came down the stairs, leaning on the butler for support. Milford headed over to talk with him. Not long after, the kitchen called that the party was ready. Stella trailed Bradly to their seats on the left side of the main table. Everyone filed in and sat. As the eldest branch, the two Woodard brothers took priority. Chuck claimed the head of the main table, with Nadine and Milford next in line. Stella and Bradly fell further down the order, landing her right across from Milford on the diagonal. The family feast got underway, with everyone firing questions at Milford about what he'd been up to lately. Stella kept her head down, nibbling at her food while catching bits of the conversation. Zrester bigwig, major stakeholder in Wonder Group, founder of that financial exchange and the smart transportation AI... Milford's credentials were endless and mind-blowing. She thought back to that Zrester party invite list she'd snagged years ago. Milford was third from the top, while she languished at the bottom. In all these years, she'd had next to no interaction with him. Right after the wedding, this mysterious Milford had only shown up once. He dropped off a gift and vanished. In just a handful of years, Milford had climbed to the pinnacle of Zrester's power players. His talent was obvious. Before long, the family party wound down, and folks scattered to grab desserts. Still hung up on that marriage license, Stella excused herself to head upstairs for a coat change. Bradly was itching to chat with Milford, his gaze fixed that way as he muttered distractedly, "Yeah, go on up." Stella wasted no time hustling upstairs. With the crowd milling about downstairs, she slipped to the third floor of the villa and nudged open Bradly's bedroom door. There it was: the glaring marriage license perched right on top of the nightstand, framed, flanked by their wedding portrait. As she stepped closer, memories of Bradly's cozy moments with Shanna flooded her brain, her nails digging slowly into her palm. That license seared her eyes, like it was sneering at her gullibility. She never should've caved, never should've handed Bradly a second shot. It just went to show that people's hearts circled back for seconds. Disgust flickered in her eyes as she hauled the desk's computer chair over, the kind with wheels and a swivel, shaky at best. She climbed onto it, planting one foot on the bed for stability, teetering just enough to hold steady. Stella hiked up her pearl-white knee-length dress a bit and stretched upward slowly. Fingers extended to the max, but she was still a couple inches shy. She rose onto her tiptoes, straining, but no dice. Frowning from her perch, she scanned around and snagged a book from beside the cabinet. As she leaned down, footsteps suddenly echoed outside the door. Fast, but measured. A man's, for sure. Her pulse spiked. She clutched the table, scrambling to hop down, but, perfect timing, her other sleeve caught on the cabinet's edge. She tugged frantically to break free, but it was too late to descend. The door flew open out of nowhere. Stella went rigid, her knees giving way as she toppled backward off the chair. A quick yelp escaped her, but the expected crash never hit. A firm hand latched precisely onto her thigh, another banding around her waist, hauling her into a solid hold and planting her feet firmly on the floor. She slammed into a warm, toned chest, a crisp, grounding sandalwood aroma enveloping her, not Bradly's scent. Stella glanced up, nearly clipping the guy's chin. Milford let go right away, backing off a step to give her space. Her cheeks burned, the thigh he'd gripped feeling like it was on fire. Mortified and frozen, she stammered, "Th-thanks." Milford stayed composed, his eyes skimming her flushed face and the pinkened patch of skin on her thigh from his hold. His Adam's apple dipped subtly. "Didn't realize you were in here. My bad." Stella shook her head, even more flustered. She was the one imposing on him. Milford flicked a glance upward. "Need some help?" She looked too. Up top, the marriage license screamed for attention. Chapter 7 Don't Let Me Hate You Stella just came out with it. "I want to get the marriage license down." Milford hesitated for a beat, without probing why she needed it, and slid the chair out of the way. Tall and long-limbed, he barely had to tip up on his toes to snag it effortlessly. Milford skimmed the lettering on the license, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes before the faintest quirk tugged at his lips, almost undetectable. He passed it over to Stella. "Ah, I see." She missed the words, taking it with a soft murmur: "Thanks, Milford." Her palms were slick with sweat now, but holding the certificate still sent an icy shiver through her. Those bold letters were a brutal reminder. This whole marriage had been one big joke. From beginning to end, Bradly's grand performance of undying love had always had a third wheel in the shadows. Milford dropped his gaze. Towering over her, all he could make out was the neat swirl at the top of her head, round and oddly appealing. Those slim, pale hands gripped the certificate like a vise, completely bloodless. Milford asked offhandedly, "So, what's the marriage license for?" "Oh, I just want to bring it home and store it there," Stella shot back, pulling an excuse out of thin air. Milford's stare felt like it enveloped her, the heat of it almost scorching, though he kept his hands to himself. Then he casually adjusted his cufflinks and turned to go. Stella let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, sagging against the cool cabinet. Her thigh still tingled with warmth from his grip; she quickly smoothed her skirt down, tucked the license into her bag, and only left the room once everything looked undisturbed. Bradly was still out in the back garden, deep in conversation. Stella kept her face neutral, strolling over to stand at his side. A few relatives were chatting with him. "Hey, word is Milford actually got back a couple days ago, but only tipped us off today." Bradly looked taken aback. "I thought he was flying in today?" "Nope, sounds like he hit up some auction. I only heard bits and pieces, supposedly the other night at the Empire Auction House." "He must not have gone. I was there that evening too, and I didn't see him anywhere," Bradly said, frowning in confusion. Stella's eyelashes flickered subtly, but she played it cool. Out of nowhere, her mind jumped back to that enigmatic bidder in suite 217. She wondered, 'Could Milford be the mystery guest who got the bracelet for me?' She shoved the thought down as soon as it surfaced. They'd only crossed paths once, total strangers really, connected by the flimsiest in-law tie. No matter how you sliced it, Milford wouldn't stick his neck out for her. Just like Bradly said, he hadn't caught wind of anything, so it couldn't be Milford. Stella let it go. After some more mingling, the group started to break up. Bradly steered her over to bid farewell to Milford. "Mom, Milford, we're taking off. Let's set up a family dinner soon when things settle." Milford slouched back in his chair with effortless nonchalance and gave a nod. "I'm knee-deep in an acquisition, no hurry on the get-together. But you..." He lifted his head, his expression sharpening. "Keep your life on the straight and narrow. Don't veer off track." The edge of warning in his voice was crystal clear. Bradly had grown up overshadowed by Milford; he went rigid but brushed it off casually. "Come on, everything's good. My company's running smooth as ever. If you're skeptical, drop by anytime and pore over the financials—knock yourself out." "It's not just about the company," Milford said softly, eyes down as he savored a sip of coffee. Stella couldn't help stealing a glance at him, and in that instant, a ridiculous idea struck her. From what Bradly had mentioned, Milford was abroad most of the time but still had the inside scoop on everything back home. She wondered, 'Does he know about the shady stuff Bradly is up to on the sly?' "Milford, I hear you. I'll make sure to nurture my marriage with Stella, our whole life together." Bradly grinned, threading his fingers through Stella's. Milford's gaze lingered on their joined hands for a second before drifting away, sealed with a subtle nod. Stella had no desire for any more close contact with Bradly, so she subtly shook his hand free without thinking. A split second later, his disbelieving stare locked onto her face, and he tried to grab her again. She'd known her move would humiliate him in the moment, so she didn't bother saying goodbye to Milford. She just turned and walked out ahead. Once they slid into the car, Bradly shed his polite, deferential mask from earlier, reverting to his entitled rich-kid swagger. He tugged his tie loose, a flicker of annoyance pinching his brows. "Always playing the big-brother card to chew me out, same crap since we were little. "So what if he's crushing it overseas? I'm holding my own just fine back home. Who in Ostralver would even think about messing with me?" Bradly fished out a menthol cigarette on autopilot, ready to light up, but he caught himself after glancing at Stella and shoved it back. He said, "All these years, folks have been whispering, or saying it straight to my face, that my company's thriving because of his pull. Like he's behind every damn thing. "And you? You flat-out refused to let me hold your hand back there. Trying to make me look like an idiot in front of him?" His expression iced over, the edge in his voice impossible to miss. Stella's frown deepened as she took it in. Even without knowing Milford all that well, she understood that Bradly's cocky antics in Ostralver, brushing people off like they were nothing, had always been propped up by Milford's clout. She'd assumed the brothers were tight, but clearly Bradly's respect was just for show; underneath, his grudge against Milford simmered deep. She could overlook a lot, but with things the way they were now, there was zero point in him putting on that phony hand-holding act. Stella gripped her bag, the one with the marriage license inside, and couldn't bite her tongue. "We haven't held hands in forever. It feels off to me." The car went dead quiet. She was right. Their physical closeness had dwindled so much that even she couldn't pinpoint the last time. Bradly's brow creased, and he snapped the cigarette filter clean off between his fingers. "What was that?" Stella met his eyes steadily. "From here on out, let's skip the pointless touchy-feely stuff. It just doesn't sit right." She hadn't even finished when the brakes screeched harshly. The car lurched to a halt on the empty shoulder of the road. Stella almost smacked into the window from the force, her pulse hammering as she barked, "Are you out of your mind?" Bradly loomed over her, fingers digging into her chin, irritation boiling in his glare. "Stella, do you have any idea what you're saying?" The pinch stung like crazy, and the absurdity of it all hit her as she wrestled to shove him off. "Is it not true? When's the last time we even held hands. Can you remember?" Bradly's gaze turned stormy, like she'd struck a raw spot. "I bet you're hung up on Milford, just like that girl from the second branch. That's why you pulled away in front of him. You're trying to cut ties with me?" "Bradly! What the hell are you babbling about?" Anger surged through her as she pushed harder. "Don't you dare pin your gross history on me!" The way the family had orbited Milford like he was the sun had obviously gotten under his skin. The more she resisted, the darker his look grew. Abruptly, he leaned in and smashed his mouth against hers. Stella's eyes flew wide, her head whipping aside to evade as she hammered at his shoulders with everything she had. He'd locked lips with Shanna god knows how often. The thought turned her stomach, so she clamped down and bit him hard. Bradly yelped in pain, jerking back as the fog cleared and he clocked what he'd just done, regret flashing across his face. Blood dotted his lip, but he brushed it off, lunging to wrap her in his arms. "I'm sorry, Stella, baby, I'm so sorry. I screwed up; it was a stupid impulse..." Drained of energy, Stella sagged into the passenger seat, letting him hold her while a barren wave of emptiness and revulsion washed over her. The hug she'd once melted into now repulsed her to her core. "Get off me." Her voice came out rough and scratchy. "Bradly, don't push me to hating you."
Chapter 1 Don't Want Him Anymore "I'm sorry, ma'am." On the other end of the line, the insurance customer service rep said coolly, "After checking our records, the car owner, Mr. Woodard, is indeed married, but the spouse listed here isn't you." Stella Daniels had gotten into a car accident on her way to the Woodard Group headquarters. She couldn't get through to Bradly Woodard on his phone, so she had no choice but to call the insurance company. The car was registered in Bradly's name, but as his wife, she should be able to process the claim too. "When Mr. Woodard picked up the car, he came with his wife and provided the original marriage license. Her last name is Erickson, and her full name is Shanna Erickson," the rep said. It hit Stella like a slap in the face. Dizziness washed over her in waves, leaving her whole body shaking uncontrollably. She and Bradly had been childhood sweethearts. Their families were old friends, and everyone in Ostralver's high society knew how clingy he was with her. Bradly couldn't stand being apart from her even for a single day. Three years ago, when Stella headed abroad for her studies, Bradly had the plane stopped just for her. During her three years in Ensland, he expanded his business overseas to make it easier to look after her. Sixteen thousand miles apart, he'd still fly across the ocean every week to see her. The year she came down with a severe lung illness and nearly didn't pull through, she spent a week in intensive care. Bradly ignored the infection risks and stayed right by her side, sliding a ring onto her finger. He said, "If anything happens to you, I'll go with you. We'll be husband and wife in the next life too." For Bradly's sake, she turned down her mentor's offer to stay on in the lab and headed back home. Brimming with excitement, she went to find him, planning to surprise him. But when she pushed open the door to the CEO's office, she saw a slender, pretty woman straddling his lap. The woman's innocent face tilted upward, her voice whiny and aggrieved. "Mr. Woodard, what happens to me now that Stella is back?" Bradly sat in his executive chair, his tall frame looming over her. A flash of ruthlessness crossed his stern features. "You? You're just her stand-in. Don't forget your place." He lifted his hand, pinching her delicate chin with a sneer. "Barely a three-out-of-ten resemblance, and you think you can compare to her?" Stella was still clutching the gift she'd prepared for him. With a loud "bang," it dropped to the floor, finally breaking the scene in the office. Bradly's face drained of color as he shoved the woman off and jumped to his feet. That woman was Shanna. After Stella caught them in the act, Bradly fired Shanna on the spot and pulled out all the stops to win her back. Bradly, the arrogant prince of Ostralver's elite circles, humbled himself to the dust before her, begging her to give him another chance. Any project she set her sights on, he'd drop without a second thought. He stood in the pouring rain outside her building for over a week, just for a glimpse of her. He said, "Stella, I'm not asking you to forgive me. At least let me explain. "I only ever saw Shanna as your replacement. You've been gone abroad for so long; I missed you terribly. I swear, I just kept her around. Nothing more ever happened between us. "That time you walked in, I'd had too much to drink, and she deliberately tempted me. I lost control for a moment... "I've already let her go, and she won't show up in our lives again. Stella, please, come back to me." Back then, Stella couldn't stand even the slightest betrayal. She insisted on breaking off the engagement. Until that one incident. She was kidnapped by a business rival. The kidnappers reneged on the deal, tied her up in an abandoned factory, and set the place ablaze. Bradly charged into the flames without a second thought to rescue her, shielding her from a collapsing steel beam. He ended up gravely injured, confined to bed for nearly six months. By risking his life, Bradly finally melted her resolve. Once he was out of the hospital, she accepted his proposal, and they threw a lavish wedding. In the two years since they tied the knot, he'd treated her just as devotedly as ever, with zero scandals. He even imposed a strict curfew on himself, heading home right on time every day. Even on out-of-town business trips, he'd video call her constantly. His partners would tease him about being henpecked. He never denied it. Instead, he'd grin proudly and say, "A real man takes care of his family." Memories rushed through Stella's mind like a whirlwind, every past moment flashing by in a blur. Her legs buckled, and she dropped to her knees, burying her face in her hands. She couldn't figure out which Bradly was the real one anymore. A bitter, mocking gleam sparked in her eyes. She thought, 'How absurd.' She'd been his wife for two years, and only now was she learning that even their marriage license had been a sham. Stella scrubbed her face hard, her bangs already soaked with cold sweat. She ignored the other driver's furious yelling and calmly dialed the police. They showed up fast. After finishing her statement, Stella left the station under a sky that had gone completely dark. Her phone lit up with several missed calls from Bradly. When she hadn't answered, he'd sent texts instead. Bradly: [Babe, I was tied up in a key meeting this afternoon. Signal jammers were on, so I missed your call. You okay?] Bradly: [I've got a client dinner tonight, so I'll be late getting home. I double-checked: no women involved, so no need to worry.] Bradly: [Head to bed early. Don't wait up. Love you.] Stella stared at the screen, a sharp wave of irony twisting in her gut. Bradly didn't stagger in until the wee hours. He reeked of alcohol, which almost, but not quite, masked the subtle whiff of perfume on him. "Honey..." He could barely keep his balance, stumbling over to wrap his arms around her through the blanket. "I missed you so damn much..." Stella didn't say a word. Only once he was dead to the world did she sit up quietly and unlock his phone with his fingerprint. The thing was squeaky clean, no suspicious traces at all. His contacts were mostly buddies and business folks, with hers pinned at the top as "Darling Wife." Flawlessly tidy, just like their sham of a marriage. Stella hooked the phone up to her computer, and it didn't take long to uncover his second WhatsApp account. She signed in, and right away, messages popped up from a profile with a cute pink kitten avatar, labeled "Baby." Shanna: [Bradly, thanks for tonight. Without you, I wouldn't have known what to do.] Shanna: [I've always thought meeting you was the luckiest thing that's ever happened to me. I won't intrude on your life. As long as you swing by to see me once in a while, that's enough to make me happy.] Stella scrolled back through the history. She'd suspected as much, but seeing it all laid out still hit her like a punch to the chest, leaving her breathless. They chatted nearly every day. Shanna never missed a good morning message, and Bradly's replies had shifted over time, from total silence at first, to sporadic responses, and now to answering every single one. A chill spread through her. Stella clutched the phone tighter, knowing she should quit while she was ahead but unable to stop herself from digging deeper. Shanna: [Bradly, sorry, I had a few drinks and lost it for a bit. Doc says I'm okay now, so don't stress.] Shanna: [Mrs. Woodard's birthday bash is important. Go enjoy it with her. I'll be fine.] Stella squeezed her eyes shut as the memory came rushing back. Her birthday. Bradly had spent over a month planning it down to the last detail, but that day, he was totally distracted. Hell, he almost cut his own hand while slicing the cake. When she'd asked what was up, he'd brushed it off as work drama, told her not to worry, then pulled her into a soft embrace and encouraged her to blow out the candles and make a wish. It all made sense now, as she stared at this chat log. That same day, Shanna had tried to kill herself by slashing her wrists and ended up in the ER. A sour bitterness flooded her chest like a rising tide. In those brief seconds when she'd closed her eyes to wish, she wondered, 'Was he agonizing over Shanna in the hospital, or picturing endless years together with her?' Stella knew she didn't need an answer to that anymore. She gently placed the phone back and looked down at Bradly, fast asleep beside her. She'd known him since she was four, and for the twenty years that followed, she'd truly believed his love was hers alone, irreplaceable. But now she saw it for what it was: just cheap free samples at a store, handed out to anyone who walked by. If that was all it amounted to, she was done with it. Chapter 2 Bid Against Her The next day, Stella woke to find Bradly busy in the kitchen, his broad shoulders narrowing to a slim waist, his tall, lean build moving with purpose. The sight hit her hard, a dull ache tightening in her chest. Bradly had learned to cook entirely for her sake. She still remembered that turbulent period when the Woodard Group was in crisis. His rivals had targeted her, paying off a servant to poison her food. She'd been unconscious for three full days. When she finally woke, Bradly was there, his eyes red-rimmed and veined with exhaustion, gripping her hand like a lifeline. The instant she stirred, the imposing Bradly crumbled forward, enveloping her in a hug as scalding tears fell onto her skin. From then on, Bradly threw himself into cooking lessons, taking charge of all her meals. In less than a month, he'd gone from a spoiled elite who couldn't distinguish spices to turning out dishes worthy of a Michelin chef. Just then, his phone rang. Stella glanced at it but made no move to answer. Bradly darted out of the kitchen, apron still on, grabbing the phone with a barely concealed flash of anxiety. Stella pretended not to notice and went to wash up. When she came back, the table was set with breakfast, and he was slipping into his suit jacket from the coat rack. Seeing her, he said gently, "There's an emergency at work. I have to run. Sorry I can't join you for breakfast." Stella murmured, "Sure, work comes first." He was clearly in a hurry, because he didn't pick up on the new edge of cool distance in her tone and rushed out. She stared blankly after him until he was gone, then dumped the entire spread into the trash. Then she picked up her phone and dialed a number. "That offer you made before? I'm on board." The person on the other end erupted in delight, chattering away before shifting to broken Andosa Language. "Stella, why the sudden change of heart? I've bugged you about this so many times, and you always said you were married now and focusing on family." A mocking glint flickered in Stella's eyes. She thought, 'Married? This so-called marriage has been dead on arrival.' The caller was her former mentor from her overseas studies. He'd reached out lately, hoping she'd join his new team and spearhead a major project. At the time, she'd kept saying no out of loyalty to Bradly. Now, she only wished she'd seen through the absurd joke of their marriage earlier. After the call, she contacted immigration to schedule a passport renewal. It would take about a week. But before heading out, she had one loose end to tie up. That evening, Stella showed up at a private auction at the Cloud Hotel. She was after one of her mother's keepsakes. Her mom had died when she was eight, and soon after, the Daniels family had liquidated her wedding gift. Stella had been hunting down the items ever since. Over the years, she'd only reclaimed a few. Tonight's auction featured a bracelet from that collection, one her mother had picked up on a trip to Ijance. It was utterly unique, irreplaceable. Whatever it took, she was getting it back. Stella settled into her seat just as the auction was about to start. She was flipping through the catalog when Bradly's voice floated over. "Didn't I already pick out that royal blue sapphire set for you? Not good enough?" His voice carried that familiar tenderness. Shanna linked her arm with his, pouting playfully. "Your taste sucks! I want to pick my own birthday gift." Stella watched them quietly until Bradly threaded through the guests and their gazes collided by chance. The color drained from his face. On pure reflex, he jerked his arm away from Shanna. "Stella." He strode over quickly. "I tried calling you a few times, but you didn't answer. Were you planning to surprise me?" Even though he tried to play it cool, she could still catch that subtle hint of panic in his expression. Stella didn't bother calling him on it, replying evenly, "My phone was on silent. I didn't hear it." Bradly visibly relaxed, casually taking her hand in his with a look of concern. "Your hands are like ice. Didn't I warn you about the cold snap today? You're always putting style over staying warm. If you catch a chill, you know it'll just kill me." As he talked, he signaled a server for a blanket and draped it snugly around her shoulders. Stella kept a straight face, brushing him off as she looked past him to Shanna, who lingered behind with a scowl. Shanna nibbled her lip, then defiantly dropped into the seat next to Bradly, her gaze simmering with irritation. Bradly leaned closer, dropping his voice to explain, "We just wrapped up a major project at the company, and Shanna pulled her weight big time. Her birthday's around the corner, so I thought I'd treat her to something as a project bonus." He eyed her anxiously. "Stella, you're not mad, right?" Shanna piped up in a soft, vulnerable tone. "Mrs. Woodard, if this upsets you, I'll just go. I don't want to get in the way of you and Mr. Woodard." Stella's mouth quirked into a smile that never touched her eyes. "We're married. A little thing like this? Of course it doesn't bother me." The auction got underway shortly after. Bradly treated Shanna like she was invisible, focusing entirely on Stella. He paged through the catalog, throwing in bids left and right. "Babe, this would look amazing on you." He grinned, tenderly brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his tone warm and intimate. "You'd be gorgeous in it." Stella averted her eyes, but out of the corner of her vision, she saw Shanna discreetly clutching the edge of Bradly's jacket in the dim light. Their gazes locked for a split second in a shared, lingering look. She masked the derision in her own eyes, struck by how absurd it all was. Bradly seemed totally at ease juggling both women, convinced he was keeping things balanced, one with the official status, the other with his undivided public attention. She thought, 'What could be fairer than that?' But Stella had never been interested in that kind of equilibrium. Her world extended far beyond romance. Bradly? He was just a small detour on her path, a misstep she'd own up to. And now, it was time to set things right. "Next up: a string of bracelet. Fine-grained texture, deep aroma that lingers. Starting bid at 170,000 dollars, with increments of at least 20,000 dollars!" The auctioneer's pumped-up voice echoed through the room. Finally, Stella's main target for the evening. Bids flew in fast, the screen flickering with updates as the auctioneer called out, "Number 17 lady at 200,000 dollars! Number 9 gentleman ups it to 260,000 dollars! Going higher?" Once the initial frenzy tapered off, Stella lifted her paddle. "500,000 dollars." She'd doubled the current bid in one go. It was a hefty amount. Sure, the bracelet was top-notch, but it wasn't the auction's highlight. The room went quiet after her call; no one countered. "Fantastic! Number 11 lady at 500,000 dollars! "500,000 dollars once! 500,000 dollars twice!" The auctioneer hoisted his gavel, poised to bring it down. "No more bids? Then 500,000 dollars—" "520,000 dollars," A gentle, hesitant voice interrupted. Shanna shrank against Bradly's side, paddle in hand, murmuring timidly to him, "Is this where I put in the amount?" Chapter 3 You're Dirty Stella frowned and raised her bid. "540,000 dollars." But Shanna was right behind her, countering with, "560,000 dollars." How annoyingly precise, each time, she stuck to the bare minimum, slapping on just 20,000 dollars more than Stella's offer. Shanna turned toward her, her voice dripping with plea. "Stella, you've got plenty of jewelry already. Please, let me have this one. I adore it. "I'm not like you, born with money, everything handed to you on a silver platter. You snap your fingers and get whatever you want. If it goes any higher, I really won't be able to keep up." Stella didn't bother looking at her, just quirking her lips in a thin smile. "Isn't Mr. Woodard covering the cost for you? What are you stressing about?" Shanna's face went a shade paler, but she answered in that soft, demure tone, "Even so, Mr. Woodard earns his money the hard way. If I can save him a bit, I ought to." She was the epitome of considerate and caring. After several more back-and-forth bids, the bracelet's price had soared to 700,000 dollars. Stella let out a chilly scoff and was opening her mouth to up the ante when Bradly beat her to it. He said, "Babe, why don't we just let Shanna take this bracelet?" Stella's fingers curled into a tight fist, her nails biting into her palm. She lifted her gaze, any lingering warmth in her eyes turning to ice. "What did you just say?" Bradly let out a resigned sigh, giving her hand a comforting pat as he murmured gently, "Babe, I already told Shanna she'd get a gift tonight, and she's got her heart set on this one. No need to compete with her. "Plus, I've already snagged you a handful of other pieces. Isn't that plenty?" He said it all lightly, teasingly, as if it were nothing more than a harmless quip. Stella shut her eyes, a nameless sourness creeping along her nerves, coiling around her heart until it felt like she couldn't draw a breath. Given Shanna's modest background, 700,000 dollars was way out of her league. She wouldn't even make the guest list here on her own. The only reason she was in that seat, trading bids blow for blow, was Bradly's backing. His pampering had delivered her straight into Stella's path. Stella whispered, "What if I refuse to back down?" She hoisted her paddle once more, her voice echoing through the room. "1 million dollars." A hush blanketed the hall. The auctioneer clearly picked up on the drama, his delivery faltering. "Number eleven at 1 million dollars. Do I hear higher?" Shanna's eyes welled up, on the verge of tears, as she cast a helpless look at Bradly before tacking on another fifty thousand. "1 million 20 thousand dollars." Stella's features hardened to frost, and she was poised to fire back when the manager bustled over, bending close to murmur, "Mrs. Woodard, apologies. We ran a credit verification on your account, and it's frozen. Got another one we can use?" The words slammed into her like a bolt from the blue, ringing in her ears. She snapped her head toward Bradly, but he'd already looked away. An icy numbness spread through her arms and legs. She though,t 'Of course, it has to be him.' Her primary account was linked with his; besides her, only he could authorize a freeze on her cards. Triumph flickered in Shanna's eyes as she added with a pointed edge, "Well, in that case, Mrs. Woodard, maybe it's time to step aside. You've got so much already. Can't you let me have this one little thing?" Up on stage, the auction rolled on, the display frozen on Shanna's latest bid: 1 million 20 thousand dollars. Shanna could hardly hide her glee, chirping sweetly, "Go on, call it!" But the words had barely left her lips when someone announced he would bid for the lot at any costs right in the second-floor VIP suite. After a momentary silence, the room burst into chaos. "He's declared absolute intent!" Even the auctioneer's expression changed. He'd been in the game for over a decade, but this was his first encounter with such a scenario. He hurriedly called out, "Lot number six goes to the gentleman in box 217, regardless of how high the price goes." Anyone up in those second-floor VIP suites was either swimming in money or held serious sway in Ostralver's upper crust. Stella glanced upward toward the source of the voice, catching only a vague outline behind the draped curtains. Even when she couldn't see his face, the man's crossed-legged posture radiated an unspoken dominance that pressed down on the room. The auctioneer slammed his gavel down with finality, proclaiming, "Congratulations to our esteemed guest in box 217 on winning lot number six! You're now upgraded to black gold status!" Across all of Ostralver's elite scene, fewer than a handful had ever hit black gold level at these events. Stella wondered, 'Just who is this mystery man?' Stella loosened her clenched fist slightly, torn between relief that her mother's heirloom hadn't landed in Shanna's clutches and anxiety over reclaiming it from this unknown figure. No matter what, she'd stop at nothing, pay any price, to bring her mother's possession home. She rose to her feet, intent on marching over to box 217 for a chat, when the attendant who'd just ducked inside reappeared, tray in hand with the bracelet. "What's this? The bidder in 217 having second thoughts?" "Auctions don't do take-backs." "Probably short on funds. I called it. No one's done this here before." As the murmurs swirled, the attendant headed straight for Stella, dipping into a courteous bow with a warm smile. She said, "Mrs. Woodard, the gentleman in box 217 requests that I deliver the bracelet to you as a gift. He wishes for you to follow your true path and for all to unfold as it should." The place erupted in gossip once more, with guests shooting glances her way, some envious, others skeptical, many flat-out stunned. "Isn't that Mrs. Woodard? What's her deal with the upstairs guy?" "Likely just buttering up Mr. Woodard." "Nah, I don't buy it. Out of all the goodies tonight, why zero in on those beads for Mrs. Woodard? Sounds like she's got a real connection there." The buzz filtered through, and Bradly's face turned stone-cold. In a tight, edged voice, he demanded, "Stella, what's the story with you and whoever's in box 217?" Stella held his piercing stare and said flatly, "I have no idea who he is." "!" Bradly jumped up, clamping down on her wrist like a vice. Her soft, fair skin reddened almost instantly under the pressure. Stella winced sharply, jerking her arm back on reflex. "Bradly, have you lost your mind? Haven't you stirred up enough drama for one day?" But he barreled on, blind to her fury, his reddened eyes locked on her as if he could swallow her up. "What's really between you two? "Stella, through all our married years, I've bent over backward for you. Anything you desired, I served it up without question. Why would you betray me like this?" In his mind, it was already a done deal: she was entangled in something shady with the man above. If the guy was angling for a favor from him, Bradly would've recognized him right away. People in Ostralver didn't beat around the bush when they needed something from him. They came direct. The jab landed raw and direct. Bradly blinked, frozen for a beat as a flicker of alarm shot through his eyes. Chapter 4 Don't Know You'd Come Bradly said, "I'm sorry, Stella. I didn't mean it like that. I had no right getting jealous over you and some stranger. It's all on me." Bradly's eyes reddened. "But honestly, there's nothing going on between Shanna and me. I just brought her along as a thank-you. Can you let this slide?" Seeing his cue, Shanna ducked her head meekly, her voice catching. "That's right, Mrs. Woodard. I've been bending over backward to keep my distance from Mr. Woodard so you wouldn't get the wrong impression. "I'm not asking for the world, just a decent birthday gift. I didn't grow up with your advantages; you've had everything handed to you and even snagged a catch like Mr. Woodard. Can't I at least pick out something for myself?" "Just a gift, huh?" Stella closed in on her, one step at a time. "Ms. Erickson, I've never given a damn about this 'gift' you're going on about. What gets under my skin is you, a Woodard Group employee, crossing lines you have no business crossing." As they drew closer, Bradly instinctively stepped in front of Shanna, his voice soft and coaxing. "Stella, if it's bugging you this much, I'll transfer her to a branch office once the auction's over. "But for now, cut me some slack. Let Shanna have the bracelet. When we get home, name your price on anything, and it's yours." Shanna bobbed her head in agreement, tears glistening on her lashes as she pleaded, "Stella, I really adore this bracelet. You've got it all already. Why go after the one thing I want? "Or is this just because you hate my guts and can't resist taking shots at me?" "What makes you think I'd ever like you?" Stella let out a cold snort. "This belonged to me from the start. Why the hell would I give it up?" She took the bracelet from the attendant with casual ease, her smile sharp but empty. "Ms. Erickson, know your place." Her refusal to budge finally wore through Bradly's patience, erasing every bit of softness from his face. "Stella, do you have to humiliate me like this in front of everyone? Where does that leave my dignity? "It's just a crappy old bracelet. Am I really worth less to you than some trinket?" He said it with such conviction, as if he'd wiped from his memory the solemn vow he'd made when proposing: that he'd hunt down every single one of her mother's sold-off keepsakes, no matter what. Stella's hand flew up, delivering a resounding slap across his cheek. The sharp crack rang out, pulling shocked stares from every corner of the room. Bradly's head snapped sideways, his face livid as he fixed her with a glare, his words hissing through clenched teeth. "Stella, drop the drama already. Have I pampered you too much these days, turning you into this unreasonable nightmare?" Stella reined in her temper, keeping her tone even. "Bradly, you better not live to regret today." Without another word, she turned and walked out, not sparing a backward glance. As her figure receded, Shanna gently touched the angry red mark on Bradly's cheek, her voice full of worry. "Mr. Woodard, are you okay? "Stella's got no boundaries. How could she hit you with all these people watching?" Bradly swatted her hand aside, his nails digging into his palm as he stared after her retreating path. "I've spoiled her rotten, letting her forget that everything she has comes from me." Shanna peeked at his changing expression, testing the waters. "Mr. Woodard, about the bracelet..." Bradly rubbed his throbbing cheek, pulled a bank card from his pocket, and handed it over. "1.7 million dollars on there. Buy whatever catches your eye." Box 217, Stella rapped on the door, eager to thank the mystery bidder face-to-face. Silence. She caught a server walking by. "Excuse me, any idea where the gentleman from this box headed?" "He slipped out right after nabbing the last item," the server said. Disappointment flashed in her eyes, but Stella pressed on, "Do you know who he was?" The server gave her a regretful smile. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard, we're not allowed to spill on our VIPs. Don't make this harder for us." Catching herself, Stella moved out of the way. "Thanks all the same." By the time she made it home from the auction, an hour had ticked by. Stella went straight up to the study, fired up the computer, and dove into the assets registered under her and Bradly's names. After tallying up the numbers, she snatched her phone, found lawyer Rubin Cobb's contact, and hit dial. She said, "I've sorted out the asset division documents for me and Bradly and sent them over. I need you to handle the property split by tomorrow." Rubin quickly received the files and nodded respectfully. "Of course, Mrs. Woodard. I'll get right on it." Stella stared intently at her computer screen, her grip tightening on the mouse. "If Bradly's committed bigamy, how should our assets be divided?" "Generally, any property the bigamous party gained through the bigamy can be claimed back by the other spouse," Rubin replied matter-of-factly. Half of Bradly's current wealth had come from Stella's investments to support his career early on. Her expression darkened, and she promptly forwarded the marriage license between him and Shanna. "Rubin, please use every legal avenue to recover my half of the assets." After hanging up, Stella slumped back in her chair, utterly drained physically and emotionally. She closed her eyes slowly, but sleep was nowhere in sight. Bradly would never agree to a divorce. Until she had everything locked down, she couldn't let on that anything was amiss. Just then, the study door was kicked open from the outside. Bradly flung his jacket onto the desk and yanked Stella up from her seat in front of the computer. "Do you realize that because of your little outburst, I've become a laughingstock in our circles? "What exactly do you want? Are you still obsessing over what happened back then?" Stella opened her eyes slowly, her gaze settling calmly on Bradly, but she remained silent. A fire raged in Bradly's chest, intensifying by the second, and he couldn't hold back his fury any longer. "Since we got married, have I ever done anything to wrong you? I come home right on time every night after work, I always fill you in on any business dinners, and if there's even a hint of a woman involved, I skip them entirely! I've bent over backward, and it's still not good enough for you?" He remembered every detail crystal clear. In his mind, these were the sacrifices he'd made to marry her. Stella suddenly found the whole thing absurd. She couldn't bear to look at him anymore, so she stood up and walked straight out of the study without a backward glance. Behind her, Bradly's voice echoed heavily. "Stella, no matter what you think, my conscience is clear." It felt like Stella's heart had been shattered into icy fragments, a sharp, bitter pain surging through her. Her mind buzzed, and for a moment, all she could hear was that phrase repeating over and over. She thought, 'My conscience is clear? So, in his eyes, everything he's done is perfectly justifiable.' The next morning, when Stella woke up, Bradly was already gone. On the table sat the breakfast he'd prepared, tailored exactly to her tastes. Stella pressed her lips together, her feelings a complicated tangle. They'd ended things on a sour note last night, yet Bradly had still made her breakfast this morning. But this was the same man who'd lied to her for years. No matter what, it was time to end things with Bradly. She didn't touch the food and headed straight to the office. These past few years, she'd stayed out of Bradly's business dealings. A lot of her old financial records were outdated now, and she needed the latest reports. The secretary looked startled when she saw her, then managed to say, "Mrs. Woodard, are you here to see Mr. Woodard?" "No." Stella replied evenly. "Send the finance manager in to see me." Her shares were second only to Bradly's, giving her full access to every aspect of the company. The secretary hesitated briefly before nodding. Stella noticed her immediately turning to make a phone call, probably alerting Bradly. Stella didn't intervene; let her. She settled into the finance office, sipping her coffee absentmindedly while flipping through magazines on the shelf. Most were glossy entertainment rags, mixed in with novels and comics. Stella frowned, only now picking up on the details: the desk was covered in a pink plaid mat, cluttered with adorable plush toys. The standout pair was a set of couple dolls, their outfits emblazoned with the letters W and E. It hit Stella suddenly what that meant, and just then, the door behind her swung open. Shanna rushed in. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard." She was clutching a cup of coffee as she apologized. "I had no idea you'd drop by like this..." Chapter 5 All For Milford Stella arched an eyebrow as she looked her over. "So you're the finance manager?" Shanna nodded with a quick smile. "That's me. If you need anything at all, just say the word. Bradly, well, Mr. Woodard is tied up in a meeting right now. But don't worry, I'll make sure to relay whatever message you have." Stella let out a soft laugh. "No need for that." She regarded Shanna with clear curiosity. "I'm not looking for Bradly. I'm here to see you." Shanna's smile faltered for a moment before she recovered, her tone turning gentle. "Mrs. Woodard, I get that you're still bothered by what went down at the auction last night, but there's no reason to be so worked up about my connection to Mr. Woodard. After all..." She raised her hand, the elegant diamond ring on her finger glinting under the light, perfectly complementing her bashful grin. "I'm already married, and things are great between me and my husband." Stella's eyes locked on the ring, her breath hitching just for an instant. It was ridiculous. In this whole messed-up situation, she was the one playing the role of the mistress. The ring was an exact match for the one Bradly had given her during his proposal. But within seconds, Stella averted her gaze. "It's a lovely ring, but you're mistaken." She spoke unhurriedly, "I'm just here to grab the latest financial report from you. That's all." Stella caught the sour shift in Shanna's expression and smiled to herself. "Seems like you're the one on edge here, Ms. Erickson." Shanna's face transformed completely, that smug spark in her eyes snuffed out. She bit her lip, unable to find words for a long beat. Stella watched her with unruffled poise. "Do I need to repeat my request, Ms. Erickson?" The words had barely left her mouth when Bradly burst in, his expression clouding over at the sight. "Stella, wasn't the scene from last night enough?" His voice was laced with ice. "How long are you planning to drag this out? I've told you already. There's nothing going on between me and Shanna. If you don't believe me..." Stella interrupted him mid-sentence, "Oh, I believe you. Absolutely." A faint smirk tugged at her lips, though her eyes remained frosty as they settled on Shanna. "After all, Ms. Erickson's already married. She just mentioned it herself." The statement landed like a bomb. Shanna's face drained of color, and Bradly's followed suit. He shot her a withering glare. Tears sprang to Shanna's eyes in an instant. Stella had no interest in watching the drama unfold any further. She said evenly, "I'm here for this year's financials. I hold forty percent of the company. Surely I can access that, right?" Bradly seemed to snap back to reality, nodding hastily. "Of course you can." He barked orders at the secretary to fetch it immediately, all the while stealing wary glances at her face. Once he confirmed she wasn't giving anything away, he exhaled almost imperceptibly in relief. He said, "Stella, what's with the sudden interest? You've never bothered with company matters before." Stella answered coolly, "After the account freeze last night, I decided it's smarter to set up a separate one." Bradly's expression froze again. "Stella..." The secretary returned promptly with the report. Stella brushed Bradly aside, skimmed through it quickly, and was heading for the door when he caught her by the wrist. He said, "Stella, about the family dinner tonight, are you coming home with me?" His tone was pleading, like he needed her answer to reassure himself that she hadn't caught on to anything fishy. Stella didn't look back, just replying calmly, "Sure." Bradly's face lit up. "Great, I'll swing by after work to pick you up." Stella dropped her gaze, masking the cool detachment in her eyes. She'd only agreed to head back to the family estate for one specific reason. The marriage license from when she and Bradly had tied the knot was a phony, but he'd made a whole production out of stashing it away at the house, claiming it had to be kept secure. Nothing could serve as stronger proof. Once she got her hands on it, his bigamy would be ironclad. Stella didn't bother waiting for Bradly; she hailed a cab and got there ahead of time. She'd figured it was just a standard family gathering, but she was caught off guard by the full turnout. Bradly's parents, fresh from their overseas vacation last week, were back, and even the distant relatives from the Woodard family's side branches had shown up en masse. "Stella, dear." As she walked in, Nadine Woodard peered over her shoulder. "Bradly didn't come with you?" Stella answered evenly, "He'll be along shortly." Nadine clicked her tongue, her irritation obvious. "On an important occasion like this, letting someone from outside the family arrive solo, what's got into him?" Stella's brow furrowed just a touch. She and Bradly had been engaged since childhood, but after her mother's passing, the Daniels family's status had tanked while the Woodard family kept climbing. That was when Nadine started pushing to scrap the arrangement, and she'd mentioned it more than a few times. But Chuck Woodard was upright and principled, flat-out refusing to play the social-climbing game. With Bradly dead set on marrying her and no one else, Nadine had reluctantly given in, though she made her resentment clear. Even after the marriage, she never passed up an opportunity to give Stella the cold shoulder. She was about to add something else when the butler rushed in and murmured, "He's here." Nadine promptly dropped the subject with Stella and jumped to her feet, the extended family hustling out right behind her to welcome the arrivals. The level of pomp surprised Stella. The Woodard family was already at the top of Ostralver's social elite. For them to pull out all the stops like this... Standing at the edge of the group, Stella glanced up and saw a black Maybach rolling up to the front of the estate. Someone hurried forward to open the door respectfully, and a tall, imposing figure stepped out unhurriedly. The man wore a sleek black suit, his chiseled features sharp, eyes as midnight, radiating a fierce intensity. Every gesture exuded a natural poise and authority that made it tough to hold his stare. The crowd swarmed forward in a rush, but he stayed cool and detached the whole time, his stunningly handsome face as impassive as carved ice, showing zero emotion. Then, as if picking up on something, he looked up toward Stella. Their eyes locked unexpectedly, sending her heart pounding. It was Milford Woodard, Bradly's brother. He'd returned to the country. Though they were brothers in name, Milford wasn't all that tight with the family. He'd headed overseas young and had spent years growing the business abroad. His father Edward Woodard was a total lightweight, good only at spending cash, not earning it. His grandpa Chuck had the smarts and drive, but age was catching up, leaving him unable to manage it all. Real power over the Woodard family had shifted to Milford ages ago. Stella let out a quiet breath. She thought, 'That explains the big crowd today. They've all turned out for Milford.' Chapter 6 Need Help? Stella lingered in the corner of the living room, watching the relatives descend like a swarm of locusts, all scrambling to surround Milford. Bradly stood next to Nadine, flashing a polished smile as he greeted, "Hey, Milford." The uncles who'd been buttering up Bradly just a minute ago quickly switched gears, beaming with over-the-top enthusiasm as they stepped up to say hello. "Milford, what prompted the sudden return?" "Milford, I hear you're in the middle of acquiring a domestic company? You're just getting more impressive by the day." "Come on inside, take a seat. We've got some top-shelf coffee." Bradly caught the stark contrast in the uncles' warmth, his smile fading briefly before he pulled it together and led the way forward. Stella quietly eyed the tall, strikingly handsome Milford striding into the living room like the star of the show, instinctively edging back a step. Now fully pushed to the fringes of the crowd, she shifted aside to let the trailing group pass, doing everything she could to blend into the wallpaper. Milford approached steadily. Unlike Bradly's flashy, outgoing vibe, he had a more brooding, aloof kind of handsomeness, like a pine tree blanketed in snow, regal and intimidating. He acknowledged the flattery around him with simple nods, his eyes scanning the room casually, subtly taking stock of everyone there. Until his gaze swept over Stella again, and he came to an abrupt halt. He paused, causing Bradly to stop too. "Something wrong, Milford?" Milford didn't respond, his steady gaze fixed on Stella. It was only a look, but it jolted her to her core. She felt an odd sense of being claimed, uninvited. Yet she'd barely crossed paths with Milford before. Bradly and the others traced his stare, his eyebrow quirking up. "Stella, come say hi to Big Milford." Stella started to step forward, but Milford beat her to it, walking straight toward her. Bradly and the rest exchanged surprised glances. So far, everyone had been approaching Milford. He hadn't initiated with a soul. Milford's deep eyes gave nothing away. "Stella?" Her breath hitched, like a faint breeze had brushed her ear. She hadn't anticipated him coming over to chat. It had been years, and they'd only met once or twice, but he still remembered her. Stella nodded. "Milford, it's been ages—" Before she could finish, Milford held out his hand. The move was so casual, so natural. Out of pure reflex and politeness, Stella extended hers, their palms connecting. In that brief clasp, she felt him squeeze gently, his thumb settling on her fingers and grazing them with a warm intensity. Milford released after just a second. Suddenly, Bradly sidled up, drawing Stella into his side with an arm around her waist, lacing his fingers through her left hand. He said, "Milford, how long are you in town this time? Stella and I can take you out to dinner one of these days." Milford took in their cozy pose, his glance dropping to their intertwined hands. "About a month." The words had barely left his mouth when Chuck came down the stairs, leaning on the butler for support. Milford headed over to talk with him. Not long after, the kitchen called that the party was ready. Stella trailed Bradly to their seats on the left side of the main table. Everyone filed in and sat. As the eldest branch, the two Woodard brothers took priority. Chuck claimed the head of the main table, with Nadine and Milford next in line. Stella and Bradly fell further down the order, landing her right across from Milford on the diagonal. The family feast got underway, with everyone firing questions at Milford about what he'd been up to lately. Stella kept her head down, nibbling at her food while catching bits of the conversation. Zrester bigwig, major stakeholder in Wonder Group, founder of that financial exchange and the smart transportation AI... Milford's credentials were endless and mind-blowing. She thought back to that Zrester party invite list she'd snagged years ago. Milford was third from the top, while she languished at the bottom. In all these years, she'd had next to no interaction with him. Right after the wedding, this mysterious Milford had only shown up once. He dropped off a gift and vanished. In just a handful of years, Milford had climbed to the pinnacle of Zrester's power players. His talent was obvious. Before long, the family party wound down, and folks scattered to grab desserts. Still hung up on that marriage license, Stella excused herself to head upstairs for a coat change. Bradly was itching to chat with Milford, his gaze fixed that way as he muttered distractedly, "Yeah, go on up." Stella wasted no time hustling upstairs. With the crowd milling about downstairs, she slipped to the third floor of the villa and nudged open Bradly's bedroom door. There it was: the glaring marriage license perched right on top of the nightstand, framed, flanked by their wedding portrait. As she stepped closer, memories of Bradly's cozy moments with Shanna flooded her brain, her nails digging slowly into her palm. That license seared her eyes, like it was sneering at her gullibility. She never should've caved, never should've handed Bradly a second shot. It just went to show that people's hearts circled back for seconds. Disgust flickered in her eyes as she hauled the desk's computer chair over, the kind with wheels and a swivel, shaky at best. She climbed onto it, planting one foot on the bed for stability, teetering just enough to hold steady. Stella hiked up her pearl-white knee-length dress a bit and stretched upward slowly. Fingers extended to the max, but she was still a couple inches shy. She rose onto her tiptoes, straining, but no dice. Frowning from her perch, she scanned around and snagged a book from beside the cabinet. As she leaned down, footsteps suddenly echoed outside the door. Fast, but measured. A man's, for sure. Her pulse spiked. She clutched the table, scrambling to hop down, but, perfect timing, her other sleeve caught on the cabinet's edge. She tugged frantically to break free, but it was too late to descend. The door flew open out of nowhere. Stella went rigid, her knees giving way as she toppled backward off the chair. A quick yelp escaped her, but the expected crash never hit. A firm hand latched precisely onto her thigh, another banding around her waist, hauling her into a solid hold and planting her feet firmly on the floor. She slammed into a warm, toned chest, a crisp, grounding sandalwood aroma enveloping her, not Bradly's scent. Stella glanced up, nearly clipping the guy's chin. Milford let go right away, backing off a step to give her space. Her cheeks burned, the thigh he'd gripped feeling like it was on fire. Mortified and frozen, she stammered, "Th-thanks." Milford stayed composed, his eyes skimming her flushed face and the pinkened patch of skin on her thigh from his hold. His Adam's apple dipped subtly. "Didn't realize you were in here. My bad." Stella shook her head, even more flustered. She was the one imposing on him. Milford flicked a glance upward. "Need some help?" She looked too. Up top, the marriage license screamed for attention. Chapter 7 Don't Let Me Hate You Stella just came out with it. "I want to get the marriage license down." Milford hesitated for a beat, without probing why she needed it, and slid the chair out of the way. Tall and long-limbed, he barely had to tip up on his toes to snag it effortlessly. Milford skimmed the lettering on the license, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes before the faintest quirk tugged at his lips, almost undetectable. He passed it over to Stella. "Ah, I see." She missed the words, taking it with a soft murmur: "Thanks, Milford." Her palms were slick with sweat now, but holding the certificate still sent an icy shiver through her. Those bold letters were a brutal reminder. This whole marriage had been one big joke. From beginning to end, Bradly's grand performance of undying love had always had a third wheel in the shadows. Milford dropped his gaze. Towering over her, all he could make out was the neat swirl at the top of her head, round and oddly appealing. Those slim, pale hands gripped the certificate like a vise, completely bloodless. Milford asked offhandedly, "So, what's the marriage license for?" "Oh, I just want to bring it home and store it there," Stella shot back, pulling an excuse out of thin air. Milford's stare felt like it enveloped her, the heat of it almost scorching, though he kept his hands to himself. Then he casually adjusted his cufflinks and turned to go. Stella let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, sagging against the cool cabinet. Her thigh still tingled with warmth from his grip; she quickly smoothed her skirt down, tucked the license into her bag, and only left the room once everything looked undisturbed. Bradly was still out in the back garden, deep in conversation. Stella kept her face neutral, strolling over to stand at his side. A few relatives were chatting with him. "Hey, word is Milford actually got back a couple days ago, but only tipped us off today." Bradly looked taken aback. "I thought he was flying in today?" "Nope, sounds like he hit up some auction. I only heard bits and pieces, supposedly the other night at the Empire Auction House." "He must not have gone. I was there that evening too, and I didn't see him anywhere," Bradly said, frowning in confusion. Stella's eyelashes flickered subtly, but she played it cool. Out of nowhere, her mind jumped back to that enigmatic bidder in suite 217. She wondered, 'Could Milford be the mystery guest who got the bracelet for me?' She shoved the thought down as soon as it surfaced. They'd only crossed paths once, total strangers really, connected by the flimsiest in-law tie. No matter how you sliced it, Milford wouldn't stick his neck out for her. Just like Bradly said, he hadn't caught wind of anything, so it couldn't be Milford. Stella let it go. After some more mingling, the group started to break up. Bradly steered her over to bid farewell to Milford. "Mom, Milford, we're taking off. Let's set up a family dinner soon when things settle." Milford slouched back in his chair with effortless nonchalance and gave a nod. "I'm knee-deep in an acquisition, no hurry on the get-together. But you..." He lifted his head, his expression sharpening. "Keep your life on the straight and narrow. Don't veer off track." The edge of warning in his voice was crystal clear. Bradly had grown up overshadowed by Milford; he went rigid but brushed it off casually. "Come on, everything's good. My company's running smooth as ever. If you're skeptical, drop by anytime and pore over the financials—knock yourself out." "It's not just about the company," Milford said softly, eyes down as he savored a sip of coffee. Stella couldn't help stealing a glance at him, and in that instant, a ridiculous idea struck her. From what Bradly had mentioned, Milford was abroad most of the time but still had the inside scoop on everything back home. She wondered, 'Does he know about the shady stuff Bradly is up to on the sly?' "Milford, I hear you. I'll make sure to nurture my marriage with Stella, our whole life together." Bradly grinned, threading his fingers through Stella's. Milford's gaze lingered on their joined hands for a second before drifting away, sealed with a subtle nod. Stella had no desire for any more close contact with Bradly, so she subtly shook his hand free without thinking. A split second later, his disbelieving stare locked onto her face, and he tried to grab her again. She'd known her move would humiliate him in the moment, so she didn't bother saying goodbye to Milford. She just turned and walked out ahead. Once they slid into the car, Bradly shed his polite, deferential mask from earlier, reverting to his entitled rich-kid swagger. He tugged his tie loose, a flicker of annoyance pinching his brows. "Always playing the big-brother card to chew me out, same crap since we were little. "So what if he's crushing it overseas? I'm holding my own just fine back home. Who in Ostralver would even think about messing with me?" Bradly fished out a menthol cigarette on autopilot, ready to light up, but he caught himself after glancing at Stella and shoved it back. He said, "All these years, folks have been whispering, or saying it straight to my face, that my company's thriving because of his pull. Like he's behind every damn thing. "And you? You flat-out refused to let me hold your hand back there. Trying to make me look like an idiot in front of him?" His expression iced over, the edge in his voice impossible to miss. Stella's frown deepened as she took it in. Even without knowing Milford all that well, she understood that Bradly's cocky antics in Ostralver, brushing people off like they were nothing, had always been propped up by Milford's clout. She'd assumed the brothers were tight, but clearly Bradly's respect was just for show; underneath, his grudge against Milford simmered deep. She could overlook a lot, but with things the way they were now, there was zero point in him putting on that phony hand-holding act. Stella gripped her bag, the one with the marriage license inside, and couldn't bite her tongue. "We haven't held hands in forever. It feels off to me." The car went dead quiet. She was right. Their physical closeness had dwindled so much that even she couldn't pinpoint the last time. Bradly's brow creased, and he snapped the cigarette filter clean off between his fingers. "What was that?" Stella met his eyes steadily. "From here on out, let's skip the pointless touchy-feely stuff. It just doesn't sit right." She hadn't even finished when the brakes screeched harshly. The car lurched to a halt on the empty shoulder of the road. Stella almost smacked into the window from the force, her pulse hammering as she barked, "Are you out of your mind?" Bradly loomed over her, fingers digging into her chin, irritation boiling in his glare. "Stella, do you have any idea what you're saying?" The pinch stung like crazy, and the absurdity of it all hit her as she wrestled to shove him off. "Is it not true? When's the last time we even held hands. Can you remember?" Bradly's gaze turned stormy, like she'd struck a raw spot. "I bet you're hung up on Milford, just like that girl from the second branch. That's why you pulled away in front of him. You're trying to cut ties with me?" "Bradly! What the hell are you babbling about?" Anger surged through her as she pushed harder. "Don't you dare pin your gross history on me!" The way the family had orbited Milford like he was the sun had obviously gotten under his skin. The more she resisted, the darker his look grew. Abruptly, he leaned in and smashed his mouth against hers. Stella's eyes flew wide, her head whipping aside to evade as she hammered at his shoulders with everything she had. He'd locked lips with Shanna god knows how often. The thought turned her stomach, so she clamped down and bit him hard. Bradly yelped in pain, jerking back as the fog cleared and he clocked what he'd just done, regret flashing across his face. Blood dotted his lip, but he brushed it off, lunging to wrap her in his arms. "I'm sorry, Stella, baby, I'm so sorry. I screwed up; it was a stupid impulse..." Drained of energy, Stella sagged into the passenger seat, letting him hold her while a barren wave of emptiness and revulsion washed over her. The hug she'd once melted into now repulsed her to her core. "Get off me." Her voice came out rough and scratchy. "Bradly, don't push me to hating you."
Chapter 1 Don't Want Him Anymore "I'm sorry, ma'am." On the other end of the line, the insurance customer service rep said coolly, "After checking our records, the car owner, Mr. Woodard, is indeed married, but the spouse listed here isn't you." Stella Daniels had gotten into a car accident on her way to the Woodard Group headquarters. She couldn't get through to Bradly Woodard on his phone, so she had no choice but to call the insurance company. The car was registered in Bradly's name, but as his wife, she should be able to process the claim too. "When Mr. Woodard picked up the car, he came with his wife and provided the original marriage license. Her last name is Erickson, and her full name is Shanna Erickson," the rep said. It hit Stella like a slap in the face. Dizziness washed over her in waves, leaving her whole body shaking uncontrollably. She and Bradly had been childhood sweethearts. Their families were old friends, and everyone in Ostralver's high society knew how clingy he was with her. Bradly couldn't stand being apart from her even for a single day. Three years ago, when Stella headed abroad for her studies, Bradly had the plane stopped just for her. During her three years in Ensland, he expanded his business overseas to make it easier to look after her. Sixteen thousand miles apart, he'd still fly across the ocean every week to see her. The year she came down with a severe lung illness and nearly didn't pull through, she spent a week in intensive care. Bradly ignored the infection risks and stayed right by her side, sliding a ring onto her finger. He said, "If anything happens to you, I'll go with you. We'll be husband and wife in the next life too." For Bradly's sake, she turned down her mentor's offer to stay on in the lab and headed back home. Brimming with excitement, she went to find him, planning to surprise him. But when she pushed open the door to the CEO's office, she saw a slender, pretty woman straddling his lap. The woman's innocent face tilted upward, her voice whiny and aggrieved. "Mr. Woodard, what happens to me now that Stella is back?" Bradly sat in his executive chair, his tall frame looming over her. A flash of ruthlessness crossed his stern features. "You? You're just her stand-in. Don't forget your place." He lifted his hand, pinching her delicate chin with a sneer. "Barely a three-out-of-ten resemblance, and you think you can compare to her?" Stella was still clutching the gift she'd prepared for him. With a loud "bang," it dropped to the floor, finally breaking the scene in the office. Bradly's face drained of color as he shoved the woman off and jumped to his feet. That woman was Shanna. After Stella caught them in the act, Bradly fired Shanna on the spot and pulled out all the stops to win her back. Bradly, the arrogant prince of Ostralver's elite circles, humbled himself to the dust before her, begging her to give him another chance. Any project she set her sights on, he'd drop without a second thought. He stood in the pouring rain outside her building for over a week, just for a glimpse of her. He said, "Stella, I'm not asking you to forgive me. At least let me explain. "I only ever saw Shanna as your replacement. You've been gone abroad for so long; I missed you terribly. I swear, I just kept her around. Nothing more ever happened between us. "That time you walked in, I'd had too much to drink, and she deliberately tempted me. I lost control for a moment... "I've already let her go, and she won't show up in our lives again. Stella, please, come back to me." Back then, Stella couldn't stand even the slightest betrayal. She insisted on breaking off the engagement. Until that one incident. She was kidnapped by a business rival. The kidnappers reneged on the deal, tied her up in an abandoned factory, and set the place ablaze. Bradly charged into the flames without a second thought to rescue her, shielding her from a collapsing steel beam. He ended up gravely injured, confined to bed for nearly six months. By risking his life, Bradly finally melted her resolve. Once he was out of the hospital, she accepted his proposal, and they threw a lavish wedding. In the two years since they tied the knot, he'd treated her just as devotedly as ever, with zero scandals. He even imposed a strict curfew on himself, heading home right on time every day. Even on out-of-town business trips, he'd video call her constantly. His partners would tease him about being henpecked. He never denied it. Instead, he'd grin proudly and say, "A real man takes care of his family." Memories rushed through Stella's mind like a whirlwind, every past moment flashing by in a blur. Her legs buckled, and she dropped to her knees, burying her face in her hands. She couldn't figure out which Bradly was the real one anymore. A bitter, mocking gleam sparked in her eyes. She thought, 'How absurd.' She'd been his wife for two years, and only now was she learning that even their marriage license had been a sham. Stella scrubbed her face hard, her bangs already soaked with cold sweat. She ignored the other driver's furious yelling and calmly dialed the police. They showed up fast. After finishing her statement, Stella left the station under a sky that had gone completely dark. Her phone lit up with several missed calls from Bradly. When she hadn't answered, he'd sent texts instead. Bradly: [Babe, I was tied up in a key meeting this afternoon. Signal jammers were on, so I missed your call. You okay?] Bradly: [I've got a client dinner tonight, so I'll be late getting home. I double-checked: no women involved, so no need to worry.] Bradly: [Head to bed early. Don't wait up. Love you.] Stella stared at the screen, a sharp wave of irony twisting in her gut. Bradly didn't stagger in until the wee hours. He reeked of alcohol, which almost, but not quite, masked the subtle whiff of perfume on him. "Honey..." He could barely keep his balance, stumbling over to wrap his arms around her through the blanket. "I missed you so damn much..." Stella didn't say a word. Only once he was dead to the world did she sit up quietly and unlock his phone with his fingerprint. The thing was squeaky clean, no suspicious traces at all. His contacts were mostly buddies and business folks, with hers pinned at the top as "Darling Wife." Flawlessly tidy, just like their sham of a marriage. Stella hooked the phone up to her computer, and it didn't take long to uncover his second WhatsApp account. She signed in, and right away, messages popped up from a profile with a cute pink kitten avatar, labeled "Baby." Shanna: [Bradly, thanks for tonight. Without you, I wouldn't have known what to do.] Shanna: [I've always thought meeting you was the luckiest thing that's ever happened to me. I won't intrude on your life. As long as you swing by to see me once in a while, that's enough to make me happy.] Stella scrolled back through the history. She'd suspected as much, but seeing it all laid out still hit her like a punch to the chest, leaving her breathless. They chatted nearly every day. Shanna never missed a good morning message, and Bradly's replies had shifted over time, from total silence at first, to sporadic responses, and now to answering every single one. A chill spread through her. Stella clutched the phone tighter, knowing she should quit while she was ahead but unable to stop herself from digging deeper. Shanna: [Bradly, sorry, I had a few drinks and lost it for a bit. Doc says I'm okay now, so don't stress.] Shanna: [Mrs. Woodard's birthday bash is important. Go enjoy it with her. I'll be fine.] Stella squeezed her eyes shut as the memory came rushing back. Her birthday. Bradly had spent over a month planning it down to the last detail, but that day, he was totally distracted. Hell, he almost cut his own hand while slicing the cake. When she'd asked what was up, he'd brushed it off as work drama, told her not to worry, then pulled her into a soft embrace and encouraged her to blow out the candles and make a wish. It all made sense now, as she stared at this chat log. That same day, Shanna had tried to kill herself by slashing her wrists and ended up in the ER. A sour bitterness flooded her chest like a rising tide. In those brief seconds when she'd closed her eyes to wish, she wondered, 'Was he agonizing over Shanna in the hospital, or picturing endless years together with her?' Stella knew she didn't need an answer to that anymore. She gently placed the phone back and looked down at Bradly, fast asleep beside her. She'd known him since she was four, and for the twenty years that followed, she'd truly believed his love was hers alone, irreplaceable. But now she saw it for what it was: just cheap free samples at a store, handed out to anyone who walked by. If that was all it amounted to, she was done with it. Chapter 2 Bid Against Her The next day, Stella woke to find Bradly busy in the kitchen, his broad shoulders narrowing to a slim waist, his tall, lean build moving with purpose. The sight hit her hard, a dull ache tightening in her chest. Bradly had learned to cook entirely for her sake. She still remembered that turbulent period when the Woodard Group was in crisis. His rivals had targeted her, paying off a servant to poison her food. She'd been unconscious for three full days. When she finally woke, Bradly was there, his eyes red-rimmed and veined with exhaustion, gripping her hand like a lifeline. The instant she stirred, the imposing Bradly crumbled forward, enveloping her in a hug as scalding tears fell onto her skin. From then on, Bradly threw himself into cooking lessons, taking charge of all her meals. In less than a month, he'd gone from a spoiled elite who couldn't distinguish spices to turning out dishes worthy of a Michelin chef. Just then, his phone rang. Stella glanced at it but made no move to answer. Bradly darted out of the kitchen, apron still on, grabbing the phone with a barely concealed flash of anxiety. Stella pretended not to notice and went to wash up. When she came back, the table was set with breakfast, and he was slipping into his suit jacket from the coat rack. Seeing her, he said gently, "There's an emergency at work. I have to run. Sorry I can't join you for breakfast." Stella murmured, "Sure, work comes first." He was clearly in a hurry, because he didn't pick up on the new edge of cool distance in her tone and rushed out. She stared blankly after him until he was gone, then dumped the entire spread into the trash. Then she picked up her phone and dialed a number. "That offer you made before? I'm on board." The person on the other end erupted in delight, chattering away before shifting to broken Andosa Language. "Stella, why the sudden change of heart? I've bugged you about this so many times, and you always said you were married now and focusing on family." A mocking glint flickered in Stella's eyes. She thought, 'Married? This so-called marriage has been dead on arrival.' The caller was her former mentor from her overseas studies. He'd reached out lately, hoping she'd join his new team and spearhead a major project. At the time, she'd kept saying no out of loyalty to Bradly. Now, she only wished she'd seen through the absurd joke of their marriage earlier. After the call, she contacted immigration to schedule a passport renewal. It would take about a week. But before heading out, she had one loose end to tie up. That evening, Stella showed up at a private auction at the Cloud Hotel. She was after one of her mother's keepsakes. Her mom had died when she was eight, and soon after, the Daniels family had liquidated her wedding gift. Stella had been hunting down the items ever since. Over the years, she'd only reclaimed a few. Tonight's auction featured a bracelet from that collection, one her mother had picked up on a trip to Ijance. It was utterly unique, irreplaceable. Whatever it took, she was getting it back. Stella settled into her seat just as the auction was about to start. She was flipping through the catalog when Bradly's voice floated over. "Didn't I already pick out that royal blue sapphire set for you? Not good enough?" His voice carried that familiar tenderness. Shanna linked her arm with his, pouting playfully. "Your taste sucks! I want to pick my own birthday gift." Stella watched them quietly until Bradly threaded through the guests and their gazes collided by chance. The color drained from his face. On pure reflex, he jerked his arm away from Shanna. "Stella." He strode over quickly. "I tried calling you a few times, but you didn't answer. Were you planning to surprise me?" Even though he tried to play it cool, she could still catch that subtle hint of panic in his expression. Stella didn't bother calling him on it, replying evenly, "My phone was on silent. I didn't hear it." Bradly visibly relaxed, casually taking her hand in his with a look of concern. "Your hands are like ice. Didn't I warn you about the cold snap today? You're always putting style over staying warm. If you catch a chill, you know it'll just kill me." As he talked, he signaled a server for a blanket and draped it snugly around her shoulders. Stella kept a straight face, brushing him off as she looked past him to Shanna, who lingered behind with a scowl. Shanna nibbled her lip, then defiantly dropped into the seat next to Bradly, her gaze simmering with irritation. Bradly leaned closer, dropping his voice to explain, "We just wrapped up a major project at the company, and Shanna pulled her weight big time. Her birthday's around the corner, so I thought I'd treat her to something as a project bonus." He eyed her anxiously. "Stella, you're not mad, right?" Shanna piped up in a soft, vulnerable tone. "Mrs. Woodard, if this upsets you, I'll just go. I don't want to get in the way of you and Mr. Woodard." Stella's mouth quirked into a smile that never touched her eyes. "We're married. A little thing like this? Of course it doesn't bother me." The auction got underway shortly after. Bradly treated Shanna like she was invisible, focusing entirely on Stella. He paged through the catalog, throwing in bids left and right. "Babe, this would look amazing on you." He grinned, tenderly brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his tone warm and intimate. "You'd be gorgeous in it." Stella averted her eyes, but out of the corner of her vision, she saw Shanna discreetly clutching the edge of Bradly's jacket in the dim light. Their gazes locked for a split second in a shared, lingering look. She masked the derision in her own eyes, struck by how absurd it all was. Bradly seemed totally at ease juggling both women, convinced he was keeping things balanced, one with the official status, the other with his undivided public attention. She thought, 'What could be fairer than that?' But Stella had never been interested in that kind of equilibrium. Her world extended far beyond romance. Bradly? He was just a small detour on her path, a misstep she'd own up to. And now, it was time to set things right. "Next up: a string of bracelet. Fine-grained texture, deep aroma that lingers. Starting bid at 170,000 dollars, with increments of at least 20,000 dollars!" The auctioneer's pumped-up voice echoed through the room. Finally, Stella's main target for the evening. Bids flew in fast, the screen flickering with updates as the auctioneer called out, "Number 17 lady at 200,000 dollars! Number 9 gentleman ups it to 260,000 dollars! Going higher?" Once the initial frenzy tapered off, Stella lifted her paddle. "500,000 dollars." She'd doubled the current bid in one go. It was a hefty amount. Sure, the bracelet was top-notch, but it wasn't the auction's highlight. The room went quiet after her call; no one countered. "Fantastic! Number 11 lady at 500,000 dollars! "500,000 dollars once! 500,000 dollars twice!" The auctioneer hoisted his gavel, poised to bring it down. "No more bids? Then 500,000 dollars—" "520,000 dollars," A gentle, hesitant voice interrupted. Shanna shrank against Bradly's side, paddle in hand, murmuring timidly to him, "Is this where I put in the amount?" Chapter 3 You're Dirty Stella frowned and raised her bid. "540,000 dollars." But Shanna was right behind her, countering with, "560,000 dollars." How annoyingly precise, each time, she stuck to the bare minimum, slapping on just 20,000 dollars more than Stella's offer. Shanna turned toward her, her voice dripping with plea. "Stella, you've got plenty of jewelry already. Please, let me have this one. I adore it. "I'm not like you, born with money, everything handed to you on a silver platter. You snap your fingers and get whatever you want. If it goes any higher, I really won't be able to keep up." Stella didn't bother looking at her, just quirking her lips in a thin smile. "Isn't Mr. Woodard covering the cost for you? What are you stressing about?" Shanna's face went a shade paler, but she answered in that soft, demure tone, "Even so, Mr. Woodard earns his money the hard way. If I can save him a bit, I ought to." She was the epitome of considerate and caring. After several more back-and-forth bids, the bracelet's price had soared to 700,000 dollars. Stella let out a chilly scoff and was opening her mouth to up the ante when Bradly beat her to it. He said, "Babe, why don't we just let Shanna take this bracelet?" Stella's fingers curled into a tight fist, her nails biting into her palm. She lifted her gaze, any lingering warmth in her eyes turning to ice. "What did you just say?" Bradly let out a resigned sigh, giving her hand a comforting pat as he murmured gently, "Babe, I already told Shanna she'd get a gift tonight, and she's got her heart set on this one. No need to compete with her. "Plus, I've already snagged you a handful of other pieces. Isn't that plenty?" He said it all lightly, teasingly, as if it were nothing more than a harmless quip. Stella shut her eyes, a nameless sourness creeping along her nerves, coiling around her heart until it felt like she couldn't draw a breath. Given Shanna's modest background, 700,000 dollars was way out of her league. She wouldn't even make the guest list here on her own. The only reason she was in that seat, trading bids blow for blow, was Bradly's backing. His pampering had delivered her straight into Stella's path. Stella whispered, "What if I refuse to back down?" She hoisted her paddle once more, her voice echoing through the room. "1 million dollars." A hush blanketed the hall. The auctioneer clearly picked up on the drama, his delivery faltering. "Number eleven at 1 million dollars. Do I hear higher?" Shanna's eyes welled up, on the verge of tears, as she cast a helpless look at Bradly before tacking on another fifty thousand. "1 million 20 thousand dollars." Stella's features hardened to frost, and she was poised to fire back when the manager bustled over, bending close to murmur, "Mrs. Woodard, apologies. We ran a credit verification on your account, and it's frozen. Got another one we can use?" The words slammed into her like a bolt from the blue, ringing in her ears. She snapped her head toward Bradly, but he'd already looked away. An icy numbness spread through her arms and legs. She though,t 'Of course, it has to be him.' Her primary account was linked with his; besides her, only he could authorize a freeze on her cards. Triumph flickered in Shanna's eyes as she added with a pointed edge, "Well, in that case, Mrs. Woodard, maybe it's time to step aside. You've got so much already. Can't you let me have this one little thing?" Up on stage, the auction rolled on, the display frozen on Shanna's latest bid: 1 million 20 thousand dollars. Shanna could hardly hide her glee, chirping sweetly, "Go on, call it!" But the words had barely left her lips when someone announced he would bid for the lot at any costs right in the second-floor VIP suite. After a momentary silence, the room burst into chaos. "He's declared absolute intent!" Even the auctioneer's expression changed. He'd been in the game for over a decade, but this was his first encounter with such a scenario. He hurriedly called out, "Lot number six goes to the gentleman in box 217, regardless of how high the price goes." Anyone up in those second-floor VIP suites was either swimming in money or held serious sway in Ostralver's upper crust. Stella glanced upward toward the source of the voice, catching only a vague outline behind the draped curtains. Even when she couldn't see his face, the man's crossed-legged posture radiated an unspoken dominance that pressed down on the room. The auctioneer slammed his gavel down with finality, proclaiming, "Congratulations to our esteemed guest in box 217 on winning lot number six! You're now upgraded to black gold status!" Across all of Ostralver's elite scene, fewer than a handful had ever hit black gold level at these events. Stella wondered, 'Just who is this mystery man?' Stella loosened her clenched fist slightly, torn between relief that her mother's heirloom hadn't landed in Shanna's clutches and anxiety over reclaiming it from this unknown figure. No matter what, she'd stop at nothing, pay any price, to bring her mother's possession home. She rose to her feet, intent on marching over to box 217 for a chat, when the attendant who'd just ducked inside reappeared, tray in hand with the bracelet. "What's this? The bidder in 217 having second thoughts?" "Auctions don't do take-backs." "Probably short on funds. I called it. No one's done this here before." As the murmurs swirled, the attendant headed straight for Stella, dipping into a courteous bow with a warm smile. She said, "Mrs. Woodard, the gentleman in box 217 requests that I deliver the bracelet to you as a gift. He wishes for you to follow your true path and for all to unfold as it should." The place erupted in gossip once more, with guests shooting glances her way, some envious, others skeptical, many flat-out stunned. "Isn't that Mrs. Woodard? What's her deal with the upstairs guy?" "Likely just buttering up Mr. Woodard." "Nah, I don't buy it. Out of all the goodies tonight, why zero in on those beads for Mrs. Woodard? Sounds like she's got a real connection there." The buzz filtered through, and Bradly's face turned stone-cold. In a tight, edged voice, he demanded, "Stella, what's the story with you and whoever's in box 217?" Stella held his piercing stare and said flatly, "I have no idea who he is." "!" Bradly jumped up, clamping down on her wrist like a vice. Her soft, fair skin reddened almost instantly under the pressure. Stella winced sharply, jerking her arm back on reflex. "Bradly, have you lost your mind? Haven't you stirred up enough drama for one day?" But he barreled on, blind to her fury, his reddened eyes locked on her as if he could swallow her up. "What's really between you two? "Stella, through all our married years, I've bent over backward for you. Anything you desired, I served it up without question. Why would you betray me like this?" In his mind, it was already a done deal: she was entangled in something shady with the man above. If the guy was angling for a favor from him, Bradly would've recognized him right away. People in Ostralver didn't beat around the bush when they needed something from him. They came direct. The jab landed raw and direct. Bradly blinked, frozen for a beat as a flicker of alarm shot through his eyes. Chapter 4 Don't Know You'd Come Bradly said, "I'm sorry, Stella. I didn't mean it like that. I had no right getting jealous over you and some stranger. It's all on me." Bradly's eyes reddened. "But honestly, there's nothing going on between Shanna and me. I just brought her along as a thank-you. Can you let this slide?" Seeing his cue, Shanna ducked her head meekly, her voice catching. "That's right, Mrs. Woodard. I've been bending over backward to keep my distance from Mr. Woodard so you wouldn't get the wrong impression. "I'm not asking for the world, just a decent birthday gift. I didn't grow up with your advantages; you've had everything handed to you and even snagged a catch like Mr. Woodard. Can't I at least pick out something for myself?" "Just a gift, huh?" Stella closed in on her, one step at a time. "Ms. Erickson, I've never given a damn about this 'gift' you're going on about. What gets under my skin is you, a Woodard Group employee, crossing lines you have no business crossing." As they drew closer, Bradly instinctively stepped in front of Shanna, his voice soft and coaxing. "Stella, if it's bugging you this much, I'll transfer her to a branch office once the auction's over. "But for now, cut me some slack. Let Shanna have the bracelet. When we get home, name your price on anything, and it's yours." Shanna bobbed her head in agreement, tears glistening on her lashes as she pleaded, "Stella, I really adore this bracelet. You've got it all already. Why go after the one thing I want? "Or is this just because you hate my guts and can't resist taking shots at me?" "What makes you think I'd ever like you?" Stella let out a cold snort. "This belonged to me from the start. Why the hell would I give it up?" She took the bracelet from the attendant with casual ease, her smile sharp but empty. "Ms. Erickson, know your place." Her refusal to budge finally wore through Bradly's patience, erasing every bit of softness from his face. "Stella, do you have to humiliate me like this in front of everyone? Where does that leave my dignity? "It's just a crappy old bracelet. Am I really worth less to you than some trinket?" He said it with such conviction, as if he'd wiped from his memory the solemn vow he'd made when proposing: that he'd hunt down every single one of her mother's sold-off keepsakes, no matter what. Stella's hand flew up, delivering a resounding slap across his cheek. The sharp crack rang out, pulling shocked stares from every corner of the room. Bradly's head snapped sideways, his face livid as he fixed her with a glare, his words hissing through clenched teeth. "Stella, drop the drama already. Have I pampered you too much these days, turning you into this unreasonable nightmare?" Stella reined in her temper, keeping her tone even. "Bradly, you better not live to regret today." Without another word, she turned and walked out, not sparing a backward glance. As her figure receded, Shanna gently touched the angry red mark on Bradly's cheek, her voice full of worry. "Mr. Woodard, are you okay? "Stella's got no boundaries. How could she hit you with all these people watching?" Bradly swatted her hand aside, his nails digging into his palm as he stared after her retreating path. "I've spoiled her rotten, letting her forget that everything she has comes from me." Shanna peeked at his changing expression, testing the waters. "Mr. Woodard, about the bracelet..." Bradly rubbed his throbbing cheek, pulled a bank card from his pocket, and handed it over. "1.7 million dollars on there. Buy whatever catches your eye." Box 217, Stella rapped on the door, eager to thank the mystery bidder face-to-face. Silence. She caught a server walking by. "Excuse me, any idea where the gentleman from this box headed?" "He slipped out right after nabbing the last item," the server said. Disappointment flashed in her eyes, but Stella pressed on, "Do you know who he was?" The server gave her a regretful smile. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard, we're not allowed to spill on our VIPs. Don't make this harder for us." Catching herself, Stella moved out of the way. "Thanks all the same." By the time she made it home from the auction, an hour had ticked by. Stella went straight up to the study, fired up the computer, and dove into the assets registered under her and Bradly's names. After tallying up the numbers, she snatched her phone, found lawyer Rubin Cobb's contact, and hit dial. She said, "I've sorted out the asset division documents for me and Bradly and sent them over. I need you to handle the property split by tomorrow." Rubin quickly received the files and nodded respectfully. "Of course, Mrs. Woodard. I'll get right on it." Stella stared intently at her computer screen, her grip tightening on the mouse. "If Bradly's committed bigamy, how should our assets be divided?" "Generally, any property the bigamous party gained through the bigamy can be claimed back by the other spouse," Rubin replied matter-of-factly. Half of Bradly's current wealth had come from Stella's investments to support his career early on. Her expression darkened, and she promptly forwarded the marriage license between him and Shanna. "Rubin, please use every legal avenue to recover my half of the assets." After hanging up, Stella slumped back in her chair, utterly drained physically and emotionally. She closed her eyes slowly, but sleep was nowhere in sight. Bradly would never agree to a divorce. Until she had everything locked down, she couldn't let on that anything was amiss. Just then, the study door was kicked open from the outside. Bradly flung his jacket onto the desk and yanked Stella up from her seat in front of the computer. "Do you realize that because of your little outburst, I've become a laughingstock in our circles? "What exactly do you want? Are you still obsessing over what happened back then?" Stella opened her eyes slowly, her gaze settling calmly on Bradly, but she remained silent. A fire raged in Bradly's chest, intensifying by the second, and he couldn't hold back his fury any longer. "Since we got married, have I ever done anything to wrong you? I come home right on time every night after work, I always fill you in on any business dinners, and if there's even a hint of a woman involved, I skip them entirely! I've bent over backward, and it's still not good enough for you?" He remembered every detail crystal clear. In his mind, these were the sacrifices he'd made to marry her. Stella suddenly found the whole thing absurd. She couldn't bear to look at him anymore, so she stood up and walked straight out of the study without a backward glance. Behind her, Bradly's voice echoed heavily. "Stella, no matter what you think, my conscience is clear." It felt like Stella's heart had been shattered into icy fragments, a sharp, bitter pain surging through her. Her mind buzzed, and for a moment, all she could hear was that phrase repeating over and over. She thought, 'My conscience is clear? So, in his eyes, everything he's done is perfectly justifiable.' The next morning, when Stella woke up, Bradly was already gone. On the table sat the breakfast he'd prepared, tailored exactly to her tastes. Stella pressed her lips together, her feelings a complicated tangle. They'd ended things on a sour note last night, yet Bradly had still made her breakfast this morning. But this was the same man who'd lied to her for years. No matter what, it was time to end things with Bradly. She didn't touch the food and headed straight to the office. These past few years, she'd stayed out of Bradly's business dealings. A lot of her old financial records were outdated now, and she needed the latest reports. The secretary looked startled when she saw her, then managed to say, "Mrs. Woodard, are you here to see Mr. Woodard?" "No." Stella replied evenly. "Send the finance manager in to see me." Her shares were second only to Bradly's, giving her full access to every aspect of the company. The secretary hesitated briefly before nodding. Stella noticed her immediately turning to make a phone call, probably alerting Bradly. Stella didn't intervene; let her. She settled into the finance office, sipping her coffee absentmindedly while flipping through magazines on the shelf. Most were glossy entertainment rags, mixed in with novels and comics. Stella frowned, only now picking up on the details: the desk was covered in a pink plaid mat, cluttered with adorable plush toys. The standout pair was a set of couple dolls, their outfits emblazoned with the letters W and E. It hit Stella suddenly what that meant, and just then, the door behind her swung open. Shanna rushed in. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard." She was clutching a cup of coffee as she apologized. "I had no idea you'd drop by like this..." Chapter 5 All For Milford Stella arched an eyebrow as she looked her over. "So you're the finance manager?" Shanna nodded with a quick smile. "That's me. If you need anything at all, just say the word. Bradly, well, Mr. Woodard is tied up in a meeting right now. But don't worry, I'll make sure to relay whatever message you have." Stella let out a soft laugh. "No need for that." She regarded Shanna with clear curiosity. "I'm not looking for Bradly. I'm here to see you." Shanna's smile faltered for a moment before she recovered, her tone turning gentle. "Mrs. Woodard, I get that you're still bothered by what went down at the auction last night, but there's no reason to be so worked up about my connection to Mr. Woodard. After all..." She raised her hand, the elegant diamond ring on her finger glinting under the light, perfectly complementing her bashful grin. "I'm already married, and things are great between me and my husband." Stella's eyes locked on the ring, her breath hitching just for an instant. It was ridiculous. In this whole messed-up situation, she was the one playing the role of the mistress. The ring was an exact match for the one Bradly had given her during his proposal. But within seconds, Stella averted her gaze. "It's a lovely ring, but you're mistaken." She spoke unhurriedly, "I'm just here to grab the latest financial report from you. That's all." Stella caught the sour shift in Shanna's expression and smiled to herself. "Seems like you're the one on edge here, Ms. Erickson." Shanna's face transformed completely, that smug spark in her eyes snuffed out. She bit her lip, unable to find words for a long beat. Stella watched her with unruffled poise. "Do I need to repeat my request, Ms. Erickson?" The words had barely left her mouth when Bradly burst in, his expression clouding over at the sight. "Stella, wasn't the scene from last night enough?" His voice was laced with ice. "How long are you planning to drag this out? I've told you already. There's nothing going on between me and Shanna. If you don't believe me..." Stella interrupted him mid-sentence, "Oh, I believe you. Absolutely." A faint smirk tugged at her lips, though her eyes remained frosty as they settled on Shanna. "After all, Ms. Erickson's already married. She just mentioned it herself." The statement landed like a bomb. Shanna's face drained of color, and Bradly's followed suit. He shot her a withering glare. Tears sprang to Shanna's eyes in an instant. Stella had no interest in watching the drama unfold any further. She said evenly, "I'm here for this year's financials. I hold forty percent of the company. Surely I can access that, right?" Bradly seemed to snap back to reality, nodding hastily. "Of course you can." He barked orders at the secretary to fetch it immediately, all the while stealing wary glances at her face. Once he confirmed she wasn't giving anything away, he exhaled almost imperceptibly in relief. He said, "Stella, what's with the sudden interest? You've never bothered with company matters before." Stella answered coolly, "After the account freeze last night, I decided it's smarter to set up a separate one." Bradly's expression froze again. "Stella..." The secretary returned promptly with the report. Stella brushed Bradly aside, skimmed through it quickly, and was heading for the door when he caught her by the wrist. He said, "Stella, about the family dinner tonight, are you coming home with me?" His tone was pleading, like he needed her answer to reassure himself that she hadn't caught on to anything fishy. Stella didn't look back, just replying calmly, "Sure." Bradly's face lit up. "Great, I'll swing by after work to pick you up." Stella dropped her gaze, masking the cool detachment in her eyes. She'd only agreed to head back to the family estate for one specific reason. The marriage license from when she and Bradly had tied the knot was a phony, but he'd made a whole production out of stashing it away at the house, claiming it had to be kept secure. Nothing could serve as stronger proof. Once she got her hands on it, his bigamy would be ironclad. Stella didn't bother waiting for Bradly; she hailed a cab and got there ahead of time. She'd figured it was just a standard family gathering, but she was caught off guard by the full turnout. Bradly's parents, fresh from their overseas vacation last week, were back, and even the distant relatives from the Woodard family's side branches had shown up en masse. "Stella, dear." As she walked in, Nadine Woodard peered over her shoulder. "Bradly didn't come with you?" Stella answered evenly, "He'll be along shortly." Nadine clicked her tongue, her irritation obvious. "On an important occasion like this, letting someone from outside the family arrive solo, what's got into him?" Stella's brow furrowed just a touch. She and Bradly had been engaged since childhood, but after her mother's passing, the Daniels family's status had tanked while the Woodard family kept climbing. That was when Nadine started pushing to scrap the arrangement, and she'd mentioned it more than a few times. But Chuck Woodard was upright and principled, flat-out refusing to play the social-climbing game. With Bradly dead set on marrying her and no one else, Nadine had reluctantly given in, though she made her resentment clear. Even after the marriage, she never passed up an opportunity to give Stella the cold shoulder. She was about to add something else when the butler rushed in and murmured, "He's here." Nadine promptly dropped the subject with Stella and jumped to her feet, the extended family hustling out right behind her to welcome the arrivals. The level of pomp surprised Stella. The Woodard family was already at the top of Ostralver's social elite. For them to pull out all the stops like this... Standing at the edge of the group, Stella glanced up and saw a black Maybach rolling up to the front of the estate. Someone hurried forward to open the door respectfully, and a tall, imposing figure stepped out unhurriedly. The man wore a sleek black suit, his chiseled features sharp, eyes as midnight, radiating a fierce intensity. Every gesture exuded a natural poise and authority that made it tough to hold his stare. The crowd swarmed forward in a rush, but he stayed cool and detached the whole time, his stunningly handsome face as impassive as carved ice, showing zero emotion. Then, as if picking up on something, he looked up toward Stella. Their eyes locked unexpectedly, sending her heart pounding. It was Milford Woodard, Bradly's brother. He'd returned to the country. Though they were brothers in name, Milford wasn't all that tight with the family. He'd headed overseas young and had spent years growing the business abroad. His father Edward Woodard was a total lightweight, good only at spending cash, not earning it. His grandpa Chuck had the smarts and drive, but age was catching up, leaving him unable to manage it all. Real power over the Woodard family had shifted to Milford ages ago. Stella let out a quiet breath. She thought, 'That explains the big crowd today. They've all turned out for Milford.' Chapter 6 Need Help? Stella lingered in the corner of the living room, watching the relatives descend like a swarm of locusts, all scrambling to surround Milford. Bradly stood next to Nadine, flashing a polished smile as he greeted, "Hey, Milford." The uncles who'd been buttering up Bradly just a minute ago quickly switched gears, beaming with over-the-top enthusiasm as they stepped up to say hello. "Milford, what prompted the sudden return?" "Milford, I hear you're in the middle of acquiring a domestic company? You're just getting more impressive by the day." "Come on inside, take a seat. We've got some top-shelf coffee." Bradly caught the stark contrast in the uncles' warmth, his smile fading briefly before he pulled it together and led the way forward. Stella quietly eyed the tall, strikingly handsome Milford striding into the living room like the star of the show, instinctively edging back a step. Now fully pushed to the fringes of the crowd, she shifted aside to let the trailing group pass, doing everything she could to blend into the wallpaper. Milford approached steadily. Unlike Bradly's flashy, outgoing vibe, he had a more brooding, aloof kind of handsomeness, like a pine tree blanketed in snow, regal and intimidating. He acknowledged the flattery around him with simple nods, his eyes scanning the room casually, subtly taking stock of everyone there. Until his gaze swept over Stella again, and he came to an abrupt halt. He paused, causing Bradly to stop too. "Something wrong, Milford?" Milford didn't respond, his steady gaze fixed on Stella. It was only a look, but it jolted her to her core. She felt an odd sense of being claimed, uninvited. Yet she'd barely crossed paths with Milford before. Bradly and the others traced his stare, his eyebrow quirking up. "Stella, come say hi to Big Milford." Stella started to step forward, but Milford beat her to it, walking straight toward her. Bradly and the rest exchanged surprised glances. So far, everyone had been approaching Milford. He hadn't initiated with a soul. Milford's deep eyes gave nothing away. "Stella?" Her breath hitched, like a faint breeze had brushed her ear. She hadn't anticipated him coming over to chat. It had been years, and they'd only met once or twice, but he still remembered her. Stella nodded. "Milford, it's been ages—" Before she could finish, Milford held out his hand. The move was so casual, so natural. Out of pure reflex and politeness, Stella extended hers, their palms connecting. In that brief clasp, she felt him squeeze gently, his thumb settling on her fingers and grazing them with a warm intensity. Milford released after just a second. Suddenly, Bradly sidled up, drawing Stella into his side with an arm around her waist, lacing his fingers through her left hand. He said, "Milford, how long are you in town this time? Stella and I can take you out to dinner one of these days." Milford took in their cozy pose, his glance dropping to their intertwined hands. "About a month." The words had barely left his mouth when Chuck came down the stairs, leaning on the butler for support. Milford headed over to talk with him. Not long after, the kitchen called that the party was ready. Stella trailed Bradly to their seats on the left side of the main table. Everyone filed in and sat. As the eldest branch, the two Woodard brothers took priority. Chuck claimed the head of the main table, with Nadine and Milford next in line. Stella and Bradly fell further down the order, landing her right across from Milford on the diagonal. The family feast got underway, with everyone firing questions at Milford about what he'd been up to lately. Stella kept her head down, nibbling at her food while catching bits of the conversation. Zrester bigwig, major stakeholder in Wonder Group, founder of that financial exchange and the smart transportation AI... Milford's credentials were endless and mind-blowing. She thought back to that Zrester party invite list she'd snagged years ago. Milford was third from the top, while she languished at the bottom. In all these years, she'd had next to no interaction with him. Right after the wedding, this mysterious Milford had only shown up once. He dropped off a gift and vanished. In just a handful of years, Milford had climbed to the pinnacle of Zrester's power players. His talent was obvious. Before long, the family party wound down, and folks scattered to grab desserts. Still hung up on that marriage license, Stella excused herself to head upstairs for a coat change. Bradly was itching to chat with Milford, his gaze fixed that way as he muttered distractedly, "Yeah, go on up." Stella wasted no time hustling upstairs. With the crowd milling about downstairs, she slipped to the third floor of the villa and nudged open Bradly's bedroom door. There it was: the glaring marriage license perched right on top of the nightstand, framed, flanked by their wedding portrait. As she stepped closer, memories of Bradly's cozy moments with Shanna flooded her brain, her nails digging slowly into her palm. That license seared her eyes, like it was sneering at her gullibility. She never should've caved, never should've handed Bradly a second shot. It just went to show that people's hearts circled back for seconds. Disgust flickered in her eyes as she hauled the desk's computer chair over, the kind with wheels and a swivel, shaky at best. She climbed onto it, planting one foot on the bed for stability, teetering just enough to hold steady. Stella hiked up her pearl-white knee-length dress a bit and stretched upward slowly. Fingers extended to the max, but she was still a couple inches shy. She rose onto her tiptoes, straining, but no dice. Frowning from her perch, she scanned around and snagged a book from beside the cabinet. As she leaned down, footsteps suddenly echoed outside the door. Fast, but measured. A man's, for sure. Her pulse spiked. She clutched the table, scrambling to hop down, but, perfect timing, her other sleeve caught on the cabinet's edge. She tugged frantically to break free, but it was too late to descend. The door flew open out of nowhere. Stella went rigid, her knees giving way as she toppled backward off the chair. A quick yelp escaped her, but the expected crash never hit. A firm hand latched precisely onto her thigh, another banding around her waist, hauling her into a solid hold and planting her feet firmly on the floor. She slammed into a warm, toned chest, a crisp, grounding sandalwood aroma enveloping her, not Bradly's scent. Stella glanced up, nearly clipping the guy's chin. Milford let go right away, backing off a step to give her space. Her cheeks burned, the thigh he'd gripped feeling like it was on fire. Mortified and frozen, she stammered, "Th-thanks." Milford stayed composed, his eyes skimming her flushed face and the pinkened patch of skin on her thigh from his hold. His Adam's apple dipped subtly. "Didn't realize you were in here. My bad." Stella shook her head, even more flustered. She was the one imposing on him. Milford flicked a glance upward. "Need some help?" She looked too. Up top, the marriage license screamed for attention. Chapter 7 Don't Let Me Hate You Stella just came out with it. "I want to get the marriage license down." Milford hesitated for a beat, without probing why she needed it, and slid the chair out of the way. Tall and long-limbed, he barely had to tip up on his toes to snag it effortlessly. Milford skimmed the lettering on the license, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes before the faintest quirk tugged at his lips, almost undetectable. He passed it over to Stella. "Ah, I see." She missed the words, taking it with a soft murmur: "Thanks, Milford." Her palms were slick with sweat now, but holding the certificate still sent an icy shiver through her. Those bold letters were a brutal reminder. This whole marriage had been one big joke. From beginning to end, Bradly's grand performance of undying love had always had a third wheel in the shadows. Milford dropped his gaze. Towering over her, all he could make out was the neat swirl at the top of her head, round and oddly appealing. Those slim, pale hands gripped the certificate like a vise, completely bloodless. Milford asked offhandedly, "So, what's the marriage license for?" "Oh, I just want to bring it home and store it there," Stella shot back, pulling an excuse out of thin air. Milford's stare felt like it enveloped her, the heat of it almost scorching, though he kept his hands to himself. Then he casually adjusted his cufflinks and turned to go. Stella let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, sagging against the cool cabinet. Her thigh still tingled with warmth from his grip; she quickly smoothed her skirt down, tucked the license into her bag, and only left the room once everything looked undisturbed. Bradly was still out in the back garden, deep in conversation. Stella kept her face neutral, strolling over to stand at his side. A few relatives were chatting with him. "Hey, word is Milford actually got back a couple days ago, but only tipped us off today." Bradly looked taken aback. "I thought he was flying in today?" "Nope, sounds like he hit up some auction. I only heard bits and pieces, supposedly the other night at the Empire Auction House." "He must not have gone. I was there that evening too, and I didn't see him anywhere," Bradly said, frowning in confusion. Stella's eyelashes flickered subtly, but she played it cool. Out of nowhere, her mind jumped back to that enigmatic bidder in suite 217. She wondered, 'Could Milford be the mystery guest who got the bracelet for me?' She shoved the thought down as soon as it surfaced. They'd only crossed paths once, total strangers really, connected by the flimsiest in-law tie. No matter how you sliced it, Milford wouldn't stick his neck out for her. Just like Bradly said, he hadn't caught wind of anything, so it couldn't be Milford. Stella let it go. After some more mingling, the group started to break up. Bradly steered her over to bid farewell to Milford. "Mom, Milford, we're taking off. Let's set up a family dinner soon when things settle." Milford slouched back in his chair with effortless nonchalance and gave a nod. "I'm knee-deep in an acquisition, no hurry on the get-together. But you..." He lifted his head, his expression sharpening. "Keep your life on the straight and narrow. Don't veer off track." The edge of warning in his voice was crystal clear. Bradly had grown up overshadowed by Milford; he went rigid but brushed it off casually. "Come on, everything's good. My company's running smooth as ever. If you're skeptical, drop by anytime and pore over the financials—knock yourself out." "It's not just about the company," Milford said softly, eyes down as he savored a sip of coffee. Stella couldn't help stealing a glance at him, and in that instant, a ridiculous idea struck her. From what Bradly had mentioned, Milford was abroad most of the time but still had the inside scoop on everything back home. She wondered, 'Does he know about the shady stuff Bradly is up to on the sly?' "Milford, I hear you. I'll make sure to nurture my marriage with Stella, our whole life together." Bradly grinned, threading his fingers through Stella's. Milford's gaze lingered on their joined hands for a second before drifting away, sealed with a subtle nod. Stella had no desire for any more close contact with Bradly, so she subtly shook his hand free without thinking. A split second later, his disbelieving stare locked onto her face, and he tried to grab her again. She'd known her move would humiliate him in the moment, so she didn't bother saying goodbye to Milford. She just turned and walked out ahead. Once they slid into the car, Bradly shed his polite, deferential mask from earlier, reverting to his entitled rich-kid swagger. He tugged his tie loose, a flicker of annoyance pinching his brows. "Always playing the big-brother card to chew me out, same crap since we were little. "So what if he's crushing it overseas? I'm holding my own just fine back home. Who in Ostralver would even think about messing with me?" Bradly fished out a menthol cigarette on autopilot, ready to light up, but he caught himself after glancing at Stella and shoved it back. He said, "All these years, folks have been whispering, or saying it straight to my face, that my company's thriving because of his pull. Like he's behind every damn thing. "And you? You flat-out refused to let me hold your hand back there. Trying to make me look like an idiot in front of him?" His expression iced over, the edge in his voice impossible to miss. Stella's frown deepened as she took it in. Even without knowing Milford all that well, she understood that Bradly's cocky antics in Ostralver, brushing people off like they were nothing, had always been propped up by Milford's clout. She'd assumed the brothers were tight, but clearly Bradly's respect was just for show; underneath, his grudge against Milford simmered deep. She could overlook a lot, but with things the way they were now, there was zero point in him putting on that phony hand-holding act. Stella gripped her bag, the one with the marriage license inside, and couldn't bite her tongue. "We haven't held hands in forever. It feels off to me." The car went dead quiet. She was right. Their physical closeness had dwindled so much that even she couldn't pinpoint the last time. Bradly's brow creased, and he snapped the cigarette filter clean off between his fingers. "What was that?" Stella met his eyes steadily. "From here on out, let's skip the pointless touchy-feely stuff. It just doesn't sit right." She hadn't even finished when the brakes screeched harshly. The car lurched to a halt on the empty shoulder of the road. Stella almost smacked into the window from the force, her pulse hammering as she barked, "Are you out of your mind?" Bradly loomed over her, fingers digging into her chin, irritation boiling in his glare. "Stella, do you have any idea what you're saying?" The pinch stung like crazy, and the absurdity of it all hit her as she wrestled to shove him off. "Is it not true? When's the last time we even held hands. Can you remember?" Bradly's gaze turned stormy, like she'd struck a raw spot. "I bet you're hung up on Milford, just like that girl from the second branch. That's why you pulled away in front of him. You're trying to cut ties with me?" "Bradly! What the hell are you babbling about?" Anger surged through her as she pushed harder. "Don't you dare pin your gross history on me!" The way the family had orbited Milford like he was the sun had obviously gotten under his skin. The more she resisted, the darker his look grew. Abruptly, he leaned in and smashed his mouth against hers. Stella's eyes flew wide, her head whipping aside to evade as she hammered at his shoulders with everything she had. He'd locked lips with Shanna god knows how often. The thought turned her stomach, so she clamped down and bit him hard. Bradly yelped in pain, jerking back as the fog cleared and he clocked what he'd just done, regret flashing across his face. Blood dotted his lip, but he brushed it off, lunging to wrap her in his arms. "I'm sorry, Stella, baby, I'm so sorry. I screwed up; it was a stupid impulse..." Drained of energy, Stella sagged into the passenger seat, letting him hold her while a barren wave of emptiness and revulsion washed over her. The hug she'd once melted into now repulsed her to her core. "Get off me." Her voice came out rough and scratchy. "Bradly, don't push me to hating you."
Chapter 1 Don't Want Him Anymore "I'm sorry, ma'am." On the other end of the line, the insurance customer service rep said coolly, "After checking our records, the car owner, Mr. Woodard, is indeed married, but the spouse listed here isn't you." Stella Daniels had gotten into a car accident on her way to the Woodard Group headquarters. She couldn't get through to Bradly Woodard on his phone, so she had no choice but to call the insurance company. The car was registered in Bradly's name, but as his wife, she should be able to process the claim too. "When Mr. Woodard picked up the car, he came with his wife and provided the original marriage license. Her last name is Erickson, and her full name is Shanna Erickson," the rep said. It hit Stella like a slap in the face. Dizziness washed over her in waves, leaving her whole body shaking uncontrollably. She and Bradly had been childhood sweethearts. Their families were old friends, and everyone in Ostralver's high society knew how clingy he was with her. Bradly couldn't stand being apart from her even for a single day. Three years ago, when Stella headed abroad for her studies, Bradly had the plane stopped just for her. During her three years in Ensland, he expanded his business overseas to make it easier to look after her. Sixteen thousand miles apart, he'd still fly across the ocean every week to see her. The year she came down with a severe lung illness and nearly didn't pull through, she spent a week in intensive care. Bradly ignored the infection risks and stayed right by her side, sliding a ring onto her finger. He said, "If anything happens to you, I'll go with you. We'll be husband and wife in the next life too." For Bradly's sake, she turned down her mentor's offer to stay on in the lab and headed back home. Brimming with excitement, she went to find him, planning to surprise him. But when she pushed open the door to the CEO's office, she saw a slender, pretty woman straddling his lap. The woman's innocent face tilted upward, her voice whiny and aggrieved. "Mr. Woodard, what happens to me now that Stella is back?" Bradly sat in his executive chair, his tall frame looming over her. A flash of ruthlessness crossed his stern features. "You? You're just her stand-in. Don't forget your place." He lifted his hand, pinching her delicate chin with a sneer. "Barely a three-out-of-ten resemblance, and you think you can compare to her?" Stella was still clutching the gift she'd prepared for him. With a loud "bang," it dropped to the floor, finally breaking the scene in the office. Bradly's face drained of color as he shoved the woman off and jumped to his feet. That woman was Shanna. After Stella caught them in the act, Bradly fired Shanna on the spot and pulled out all the stops to win her back. Bradly, the arrogant prince of Ostralver's elite circles, humbled himself to the dust before her, begging her to give him another chance. Any project she set her sights on, he'd drop without a second thought. He stood in the pouring rain outside her building for over a week, just for a glimpse of her. He said, "Stella, I'm not asking you to forgive me. At least let me explain. "I only ever saw Shanna as your replacement. You've been gone abroad for so long; I missed you terribly. I swear, I just kept her around. Nothing more ever happened between us. "That time you walked in, I'd had too much to drink, and she deliberately tempted me. I lost control for a moment... "I've already let her go, and she won't show up in our lives again. Stella, please, come back to me." Back then, Stella couldn't stand even the slightest betrayal. She insisted on breaking off the engagement. Until that one incident. She was kidnapped by a business rival. The kidnappers reneged on the deal, tied her up in an abandoned factory, and set the place ablaze. Bradly charged into the flames without a second thought to rescue her, shielding her from a collapsing steel beam. He ended up gravely injured, confined to bed for nearly six months. By risking his life, Bradly finally melted her resolve. Once he was out of the hospital, she accepted his proposal, and they threw a lavish wedding. In the two years since they tied the knot, he'd treated her just as devotedly as ever, with zero scandals. He even imposed a strict curfew on himself, heading home right on time every day. Even on out-of-town business trips, he'd video call her constantly. His partners would tease him about being henpecked. He never denied it. Instead, he'd grin proudly and say, "A real man takes care of his family." Memories rushed through Stella's mind like a whirlwind, every past moment flashing by in a blur. Her legs buckled, and she dropped to her knees, burying her face in her hands. She couldn't figure out which Bradly was the real one anymore. A bitter, mocking gleam sparked in her eyes. She thought, 'How absurd.' She'd been his wife for two years, and only now was she learning that even their marriage license had been a sham. Stella scrubbed her face hard, her bangs already soaked with cold sweat. She ignored the other driver's furious yelling and calmly dialed the police. They showed up fast. After finishing her statement, Stella left the station under a sky that had gone completely dark. Her phone lit up with several missed calls from Bradly. When she hadn't answered, he'd sent texts instead. Bradly: [Babe, I was tied up in a key meeting this afternoon. Signal jammers were on, so I missed your call. You okay?] Bradly: [I've got a client dinner tonight, so I'll be late getting home. I double-checked: no women involved, so no need to worry.] Bradly: [Head to bed early. Don't wait up. Love you.] Stella stared at the screen, a sharp wave of irony twisting in her gut. Bradly didn't stagger in until the wee hours. He reeked of alcohol, which almost, but not quite, masked the subtle whiff of perfume on him. "Honey..." He could barely keep his balance, stumbling over to wrap his arms around her through the blanket. "I missed you so damn much..." Stella didn't say a word. Only once he was dead to the world did she sit up quietly and unlock his phone with his fingerprint. The thing was squeaky clean, no suspicious traces at all. His contacts were mostly buddies and business folks, with hers pinned at the top as "Darling Wife." Flawlessly tidy, just like their sham of a marriage. Stella hooked the phone up to her computer, and it didn't take long to uncover his second WhatsApp account. She signed in, and right away, messages popped up from a profile with a cute pink kitten avatar, labeled "Baby." Shanna: [Bradly, thanks for tonight. Without you, I wouldn't have known what to do.] Shanna: [I've always thought meeting you was the luckiest thing that's ever happened to me. I won't intrude on your life. As long as you swing by to see me once in a while, that's enough to make me happy.] Stella scrolled back through the history. She'd suspected as much, but seeing it all laid out still hit her like a punch to the chest, leaving her breathless. They chatted nearly every day. Shanna never missed a good morning message, and Bradly's replies had shifted over time, from total silence at first, to sporadic responses, and now to answering every single one. A chill spread through her. Stella clutched the phone tighter, knowing she should quit while she was ahead but unable to stop herself from digging deeper. Shanna: [Bradly, sorry, I had a few drinks and lost it for a bit. Doc says I'm okay now, so don't stress.] Shanna: [Mrs. Woodard's birthday bash is important. Go enjoy it with her. I'll be fine.] Stella squeezed her eyes shut as the memory came rushing back. Her birthday. Bradly had spent over a month planning it down to the last detail, but that day, he was totally distracted. Hell, he almost cut his own hand while slicing the cake. When she'd asked what was up, he'd brushed it off as work drama, told her not to worry, then pulled her into a soft embrace and encouraged her to blow out the candles and make a wish. It all made sense now, as she stared at this chat log. That same day, Shanna had tried to kill herself by slashing her wrists and ended up in the ER. A sour bitterness flooded her chest like a rising tide. In those brief seconds when she'd closed her eyes to wish, she wondered, 'Was he agonizing over Shanna in the hospital, or picturing endless years together with her?' Stella knew she didn't need an answer to that anymore. She gently placed the phone back and looked down at Bradly, fast asleep beside her. She'd known him since she was four, and for the twenty years that followed, she'd truly believed his love was hers alone, irreplaceable. But now she saw it for what it was: just cheap free samples at a store, handed out to anyone who walked by. If that was all it amounted to, she was done with it. Chapter 2 Bid Against Her The next day, Stella woke to find Bradly busy in the kitchen, his broad shoulders narrowing to a slim waist, his tall, lean build moving with purpose. The sight hit her hard, a dull ache tightening in her chest. Bradly had learned to cook entirely for her sake. She still remembered that turbulent period when the Woodard Group was in crisis. His rivals had targeted her, paying off a servant to poison her food. She'd been unconscious for three full days. When she finally woke, Bradly was there, his eyes red-rimmed and veined with exhaustion, gripping her hand like a lifeline. The instant she stirred, the imposing Bradly crumbled forward, enveloping her in a hug as scalding tears fell onto her skin. From then on, Bradly threw himself into cooking lessons, taking charge of all her meals. In less than a month, he'd gone from a spoiled elite who couldn't distinguish spices to turning out dishes worthy of a Michelin chef. Just then, his phone rang. Stella glanced at it but made no move to answer. Bradly darted out of the kitchen, apron still on, grabbing the phone with a barely concealed flash of anxiety. Stella pretended not to notice and went to wash up. When she came back, the table was set with breakfast, and he was slipping into his suit jacket from the coat rack. Seeing her, he said gently, "There's an emergency at work. I have to run. Sorry I can't join you for breakfast." Stella murmured, "Sure, work comes first." He was clearly in a hurry, because he didn't pick up on the new edge of cool distance in her tone and rushed out. She stared blankly after him until he was gone, then dumped the entire spread into the trash. Then she picked up her phone and dialed a number. "That offer you made before? I'm on board." The person on the other end erupted in delight, chattering away before shifting to broken Andosa Language. "Stella, why the sudden change of heart? I've bugged you about this so many times, and you always said you were married now and focusing on family." A mocking glint flickered in Stella's eyes. She thought, 'Married? This so-called marriage has been dead on arrival.' The caller was her former mentor from her overseas studies. He'd reached out lately, hoping she'd join his new team and spearhead a major project. At the time, she'd kept saying no out of loyalty to Bradly. Now, she only wished she'd seen through the absurd joke of their marriage earlier. After the call, she contacted immigration to schedule a passport renewal. It would take about a week. But before heading out, she had one loose end to tie up. That evening, Stella showed up at a private auction at the Cloud Hotel. She was after one of her mother's keepsakes. Her mom had died when she was eight, and soon after, the Daniels family had liquidated her wedding gift. Stella had been hunting down the items ever since. Over the years, she'd only reclaimed a few. Tonight's auction featured a bracelet from that collection, one her mother had picked up on a trip to Ijance. It was utterly unique, irreplaceable. Whatever it took, she was getting it back. Stella settled into her seat just as the auction was about to start. She was flipping through the catalog when Bradly's voice floated over. "Didn't I already pick out that royal blue sapphire set for you? Not good enough?" His voice carried that familiar tenderness. Shanna linked her arm with his, pouting playfully. "Your taste sucks! I want to pick my own birthday gift." Stella watched them quietly until Bradly threaded through the guests and their gazes collided by chance. The color drained from his face. On pure reflex, he jerked his arm away from Shanna. "Stella." He strode over quickly. "I tried calling you a few times, but you didn't answer. Were you planning to surprise me?" Even though he tried to play it cool, she could still catch that subtle hint of panic in his expression. Stella didn't bother calling him on it, replying evenly, "My phone was on silent. I didn't hear it." Bradly visibly relaxed, casually taking her hand in his with a look of concern. "Your hands are like ice. Didn't I warn you about the cold snap today? You're always putting style over staying warm. If you catch a chill, you know it'll just kill me." As he talked, he signaled a server for a blanket and draped it snugly around her shoulders. Stella kept a straight face, brushing him off as she looked past him to Shanna, who lingered behind with a scowl. Shanna nibbled her lip, then defiantly dropped into the seat next to Bradly, her gaze simmering with irritation. Bradly leaned closer, dropping his voice to explain, "We just wrapped up a major project at the company, and Shanna pulled her weight big time. Her birthday's around the corner, so I thought I'd treat her to something as a project bonus." He eyed her anxiously. "Stella, you're not mad, right?" Shanna piped up in a soft, vulnerable tone. "Mrs. Woodard, if this upsets you, I'll just go. I don't want to get in the way of you and Mr. Woodard." Stella's mouth quirked into a smile that never touched her eyes. "We're married. A little thing like this? Of course it doesn't bother me." The auction got underway shortly after. Bradly treated Shanna like she was invisible, focusing entirely on Stella. He paged through the catalog, throwing in bids left and right. "Babe, this would look amazing on you." He grinned, tenderly brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his tone warm and intimate. "You'd be gorgeous in it." Stella averted her eyes, but out of the corner of her vision, she saw Shanna discreetly clutching the edge of Bradly's jacket in the dim light. Their gazes locked for a split second in a shared, lingering look. She masked the derision in her own eyes, struck by how absurd it all was. Bradly seemed totally at ease juggling both women, convinced he was keeping things balanced, one with the official status, the other with his undivided public attention. She thought, 'What could be fairer than that?' But Stella had never been interested in that kind of equilibrium. Her world extended far beyond romance. Bradly? He was just a small detour on her path, a misstep she'd own up to. And now, it was time to set things right. "Next up: a string of bracelet. Fine-grained texture, deep aroma that lingers. Starting bid at 170,000 dollars, with increments of at least 20,000 dollars!" The auctioneer's pumped-up voice echoed through the room. Finally, Stella's main target for the evening. Bids flew in fast, the screen flickering with updates as the auctioneer called out, "Number 17 lady at 200,000 dollars! Number 9 gentleman ups it to 260,000 dollars! Going higher?" Once the initial frenzy tapered off, Stella lifted her paddle. "500,000 dollars." She'd doubled the current bid in one go. It was a hefty amount. Sure, the bracelet was top-notch, but it wasn't the auction's highlight. The room went quiet after her call; no one countered. "Fantastic! Number 11 lady at 500,000 dollars! "500,000 dollars once! 500,000 dollars twice!" The auctioneer hoisted his gavel, poised to bring it down. "No more bids? Then 500,000 dollars—" "520,000 dollars," A gentle, hesitant voice interrupted. Shanna shrank against Bradly's side, paddle in hand, murmuring timidly to him, "Is this where I put in the amount?" Chapter 3 You're Dirty Stella frowned and raised her bid. "540,000 dollars." But Shanna was right behind her, countering with, "560,000 dollars." How annoyingly precise, each time, she stuck to the bare minimum, slapping on just 20,000 dollars more than Stella's offer. Shanna turned toward her, her voice dripping with plea. "Stella, you've got plenty of jewelry already. Please, let me have this one. I adore it. "I'm not like you, born with money, everything handed to you on a silver platter. You snap your fingers and get whatever you want. If it goes any higher, I really won't be able to keep up." Stella didn't bother looking at her, just quirking her lips in a thin smile. "Isn't Mr. Woodard covering the cost for you? What are you stressing about?" Shanna's face went a shade paler, but she answered in that soft, demure tone, "Even so, Mr. Woodard earns his money the hard way. If I can save him a bit, I ought to." She was the epitome of considerate and caring. After several more back-and-forth bids, the bracelet's price had soared to 700,000 dollars. Stella let out a chilly scoff and was opening her mouth to up the ante when Bradly beat her to it. He said, "Babe, why don't we just let Shanna take this bracelet?" Stella's fingers curled into a tight fist, her nails biting into her palm. She lifted her gaze, any lingering warmth in her eyes turning to ice. "What did you just say?" Bradly let out a resigned sigh, giving her hand a comforting pat as he murmured gently, "Babe, I already told Shanna she'd get a gift tonight, and she's got her heart set on this one. No need to compete with her. "Plus, I've already snagged you a handful of other pieces. Isn't that plenty?" He said it all lightly, teasingly, as if it were nothing more than a harmless quip. Stella shut her eyes, a nameless sourness creeping along her nerves, coiling around her heart until it felt like she couldn't draw a breath. Given Shanna's modest background, 700,000 dollars was way out of her league. She wouldn't even make the guest list here on her own. The only reason she was in that seat, trading bids blow for blow, was Bradly's backing. His pampering had delivered her straight into Stella's path. Stella whispered, "What if I refuse to back down?" She hoisted her paddle once more, her voice echoing through the room. "1 million dollars." A hush blanketed the hall. The auctioneer clearly picked up on the drama, his delivery faltering. "Number eleven at 1 million dollars. Do I hear higher?" Shanna's eyes welled up, on the verge of tears, as she cast a helpless look at Bradly before tacking on another fifty thousand. "1 million 20 thousand dollars." Stella's features hardened to frost, and she was poised to fire back when the manager bustled over, bending close to murmur, "Mrs. Woodard, apologies. We ran a credit verification on your account, and it's frozen. Got another one we can use?" The words slammed into her like a bolt from the blue, ringing in her ears. She snapped her head toward Bradly, but he'd already looked away. An icy numbness spread through her arms and legs. She though,t 'Of course, it has to be him.' Her primary account was linked with his; besides her, only he could authorize a freeze on her cards. Triumph flickered in Shanna's eyes as she added with a pointed edge, "Well, in that case, Mrs. Woodard, maybe it's time to step aside. You've got so much already. Can't you let me have this one little thing?" Up on stage, the auction rolled on, the display frozen on Shanna's latest bid: 1 million 20 thousand dollars. Shanna could hardly hide her glee, chirping sweetly, "Go on, call it!" But the words had barely left her lips when someone announced he would bid for the lot at any costs right in the second-floor VIP suite. After a momentary silence, the room burst into chaos. "He's declared absolute intent!" Even the auctioneer's expression changed. He'd been in the game for over a decade, but this was his first encounter with such a scenario. He hurriedly called out, "Lot number six goes to the gentleman in box 217, regardless of how high the price goes." Anyone up in those second-floor VIP suites was either swimming in money or held serious sway in Ostralver's upper crust. Stella glanced upward toward the source of the voice, catching only a vague outline behind the draped curtains. Even when she couldn't see his face, the man's crossed-legged posture radiated an unspoken dominance that pressed down on the room. The auctioneer slammed his gavel down with finality, proclaiming, "Congratulations to our esteemed guest in box 217 on winning lot number six! You're now upgraded to black gold status!" Across all of Ostralver's elite scene, fewer than a handful had ever hit black gold level at these events. Stella wondered, 'Just who is this mystery man?' Stella loosened her clenched fist slightly, torn between relief that her mother's heirloom hadn't landed in Shanna's clutches and anxiety over reclaiming it from this unknown figure. No matter what, she'd stop at nothing, pay any price, to bring her mother's possession home. She rose to her feet, intent on marching over to box 217 for a chat, when the attendant who'd just ducked inside reappeared, tray in hand with the bracelet. "What's this? The bidder in 217 having second thoughts?" "Auctions don't do take-backs." "Probably short on funds. I called it. No one's done this here before." As the murmurs swirled, the attendant headed straight for Stella, dipping into a courteous bow with a warm smile. She said, "Mrs. Woodard, the gentleman in box 217 requests that I deliver the bracelet to you as a gift. He wishes for you to follow your true path and for all to unfold as it should." The place erupted in gossip once more, with guests shooting glances her way, some envious, others skeptical, many flat-out stunned. "Isn't that Mrs. Woodard? What's her deal with the upstairs guy?" "Likely just buttering up Mr. Woodard." "Nah, I don't buy it. Out of all the goodies tonight, why zero in on those beads for Mrs. Woodard? Sounds like she's got a real connection there." The buzz filtered through, and Bradly's face turned stone-cold. In a tight, edged voice, he demanded, "Stella, what's the story with you and whoever's in box 217?" Stella held his piercing stare and said flatly, "I have no idea who he is." "!" Bradly jumped up, clamping down on her wrist like a vice. Her soft, fair skin reddened almost instantly under the pressure. Stella winced sharply, jerking her arm back on reflex. "Bradly, have you lost your mind? Haven't you stirred up enough drama for one day?" But he barreled on, blind to her fury, his reddened eyes locked on her as if he could swallow her up. "What's really between you two? "Stella, through all our married years, I've bent over backward for you. Anything you desired, I served it up without question. Why would you betray me like this?" In his mind, it was already a done deal: she was entangled in something shady with the man above. If the guy was angling for a favor from him, Bradly would've recognized him right away. People in Ostralver didn't beat around the bush when they needed something from him. They came direct. The jab landed raw and direct. Bradly blinked, frozen for a beat as a flicker of alarm shot through his eyes. Chapter 4 Don't Know You'd Come Bradly said, "I'm sorry, Stella. I didn't mean it like that. I had no right getting jealous over you and some stranger. It's all on me." Bradly's eyes reddened. "But honestly, there's nothing going on between Shanna and me. I just brought her along as a thank-you. Can you let this slide?" Seeing his cue, Shanna ducked her head meekly, her voice catching. "That's right, Mrs. Woodard. I've been bending over backward to keep my distance from Mr. Woodard so you wouldn't get the wrong impression. "I'm not asking for the world, just a decent birthday gift. I didn't grow up with your advantages; you've had everything handed to you and even snagged a catch like Mr. Woodard. Can't I at least pick out something for myself?" "Just a gift, huh?" Stella closed in on her, one step at a time. "Ms. Erickson, I've never given a damn about this 'gift' you're going on about. What gets under my skin is you, a Woodard Group employee, crossing lines you have no business crossing." As they drew closer, Bradly instinctively stepped in front of Shanna, his voice soft and coaxing. "Stella, if it's bugging you this much, I'll transfer her to a branch office once the auction's over. "But for now, cut me some slack. Let Shanna have the bracelet. When we get home, name your price on anything, and it's yours." Shanna bobbed her head in agreement, tears glistening on her lashes as she pleaded, "Stella, I really adore this bracelet. You've got it all already. Why go after the one thing I want? "Or is this just because you hate my guts and can't resist taking shots at me?" "What makes you think I'd ever like you?" Stella let out a cold snort. "This belonged to me from the start. Why the hell would I give it up?" She took the bracelet from the attendant with casual ease, her smile sharp but empty. "Ms. Erickson, know your place." Her refusal to budge finally wore through Bradly's patience, erasing every bit of softness from his face. "Stella, do you have to humiliate me like this in front of everyone? Where does that leave my dignity? "It's just a crappy old bracelet. Am I really worth less to you than some trinket?" He said it with such conviction, as if he'd wiped from his memory the solemn vow he'd made when proposing: that he'd hunt down every single one of her mother's sold-off keepsakes, no matter what. Stella's hand flew up, delivering a resounding slap across his cheek. The sharp crack rang out, pulling shocked stares from every corner of the room. Bradly's head snapped sideways, his face livid as he fixed her with a glare, his words hissing through clenched teeth. "Stella, drop the drama already. Have I pampered you too much these days, turning you into this unreasonable nightmare?" Stella reined in her temper, keeping her tone even. "Bradly, you better not live to regret today." Without another word, she turned and walked out, not sparing a backward glance. As her figure receded, Shanna gently touched the angry red mark on Bradly's cheek, her voice full of worry. "Mr. Woodard, are you okay? "Stella's got no boundaries. How could she hit you with all these people watching?" Bradly swatted her hand aside, his nails digging into his palm as he stared after her retreating path. "I've spoiled her rotten, letting her forget that everything she has comes from me." Shanna peeked at his changing expression, testing the waters. "Mr. Woodard, about the bracelet..." Bradly rubbed his throbbing cheek, pulled a bank card from his pocket, and handed it over. "1.7 million dollars on there. Buy whatever catches your eye." Box 217, Stella rapped on the door, eager to thank the mystery bidder face-to-face. Silence. She caught a server walking by. "Excuse me, any idea where the gentleman from this box headed?" "He slipped out right after nabbing the last item," the server said. Disappointment flashed in her eyes, but Stella pressed on, "Do you know who he was?" The server gave her a regretful smile. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard, we're not allowed to spill on our VIPs. Don't make this harder for us." Catching herself, Stella moved out of the way. "Thanks all the same." By the time she made it home from the auction, an hour had ticked by. Stella went straight up to the study, fired up the computer, and dove into the assets registered under her and Bradly's names. After tallying up the numbers, she snatched her phone, found lawyer Rubin Cobb's contact, and hit dial. She said, "I've sorted out the asset division documents for me and Bradly and sent them over. I need you to handle the property split by tomorrow." Rubin quickly received the files and nodded respectfully. "Of course, Mrs. Woodard. I'll get right on it." Stella stared intently at her computer screen, her grip tightening on the mouse. "If Bradly's committed bigamy, how should our assets be divided?" "Generally, any property the bigamous party gained through the bigamy can be claimed back by the other spouse," Rubin replied matter-of-factly. Half of Bradly's current wealth had come from Stella's investments to support his career early on. Her expression darkened, and she promptly forwarded the marriage license between him and Shanna. "Rubin, please use every legal avenue to recover my half of the assets." After hanging up, Stella slumped back in her chair, utterly drained physically and emotionally. She closed her eyes slowly, but sleep was nowhere in sight. Bradly would never agree to a divorce. Until she had everything locked down, she couldn't let on that anything was amiss. Just then, the study door was kicked open from the outside. Bradly flung his jacket onto the desk and yanked Stella up from her seat in front of the computer. "Do you realize that because of your little outburst, I've become a laughingstock in our circles? "What exactly do you want? Are you still obsessing over what happened back then?" Stella opened her eyes slowly, her gaze settling calmly on Bradly, but she remained silent. A fire raged in Bradly's chest, intensifying by the second, and he couldn't hold back his fury any longer. "Since we got married, have I ever done anything to wrong you? I come home right on time every night after work, I always fill you in on any business dinners, and if there's even a hint of a woman involved, I skip them entirely! I've bent over backward, and it's still not good enough for you?" He remembered every detail crystal clear. In his mind, these were the sacrifices he'd made to marry her. Stella suddenly found the whole thing absurd. She couldn't bear to look at him anymore, so she stood up and walked straight out of the study without a backward glance. Behind her, Bradly's voice echoed heavily. "Stella, no matter what you think, my conscience is clear." It felt like Stella's heart had been shattered into icy fragments, a sharp, bitter pain surging through her. Her mind buzzed, and for a moment, all she could hear was that phrase repeating over and over. She thought, 'My conscience is clear? So, in his eyes, everything he's done is perfectly justifiable.' The next morning, when Stella woke up, Bradly was already gone. On the table sat the breakfast he'd prepared, tailored exactly to her tastes. Stella pressed her lips together, her feelings a complicated tangle. They'd ended things on a sour note last night, yet Bradly had still made her breakfast this morning. But this was the same man who'd lied to her for years. No matter what, it was time to end things with Bradly. She didn't touch the food and headed straight to the office. These past few years, she'd stayed out of Bradly's business dealings. A lot of her old financial records were outdated now, and she needed the latest reports. The secretary looked startled when she saw her, then managed to say, "Mrs. Woodard, are you here to see Mr. Woodard?" "No." Stella replied evenly. "Send the finance manager in to see me." Her shares were second only to Bradly's, giving her full access to every aspect of the company. The secretary hesitated briefly before nodding. Stella noticed her immediately turning to make a phone call, probably alerting Bradly. Stella didn't intervene; let her. She settled into the finance office, sipping her coffee absentmindedly while flipping through magazines on the shelf. Most were glossy entertainment rags, mixed in with novels and comics. Stella frowned, only now picking up on the details: the desk was covered in a pink plaid mat, cluttered with adorable plush toys. The standout pair was a set of couple dolls, their outfits emblazoned with the letters W and E. It hit Stella suddenly what that meant, and just then, the door behind her swung open. Shanna rushed in. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard." She was clutching a cup of coffee as she apologized. "I had no idea you'd drop by like this..." Chapter 5 All For Milford Stella arched an eyebrow as she looked her over. "So you're the finance manager?" Shanna nodded with a quick smile. "That's me. If you need anything at all, just say the word. Bradly, well, Mr. Woodard is tied up in a meeting right now. But don't worry, I'll make sure to relay whatever message you have." Stella let out a soft laugh. "No need for that." She regarded Shanna with clear curiosity. "I'm not looking for Bradly. I'm here to see you." Shanna's smile faltered for a moment before she recovered, her tone turning gentle. "Mrs. Woodard, I get that you're still bothered by what went down at the auction last night, but there's no reason to be so worked up about my connection to Mr. Woodard. After all..." She raised her hand, the elegant diamond ring on her finger glinting under the light, perfectly complementing her bashful grin. "I'm already married, and things are great between me and my husband." Stella's eyes locked on the ring, her breath hitching just for an instant. It was ridiculous. In this whole messed-up situation, she was the one playing the role of the mistress. The ring was an exact match for the one Bradly had given her during his proposal. But within seconds, Stella averted her gaze. "It's a lovely ring, but you're mistaken." She spoke unhurriedly, "I'm just here to grab the latest financial report from you. That's all." Stella caught the sour shift in Shanna's expression and smiled to herself. "Seems like you're the one on edge here, Ms. Erickson." Shanna's face transformed completely, that smug spark in her eyes snuffed out. She bit her lip, unable to find words for a long beat. Stella watched her with unruffled poise. "Do I need to repeat my request, Ms. Erickson?" The words had barely left her mouth when Bradly burst in, his expression clouding over at the sight. "Stella, wasn't the scene from last night enough?" His voice was laced with ice. "How long are you planning to drag this out? I've told you already. There's nothing going on between me and Shanna. If you don't believe me..." Stella interrupted him mid-sentence, "Oh, I believe you. Absolutely." A faint smirk tugged at her lips, though her eyes remained frosty as they settled on Shanna. "After all, Ms. Erickson's already married. She just mentioned it herself." The statement landed like a bomb. Shanna's face drained of color, and Bradly's followed suit. He shot her a withering glare. Tears sprang to Shanna's eyes in an instant. Stella had no interest in watching the drama unfold any further. She said evenly, "I'm here for this year's financials. I hold forty percent of the company. Surely I can access that, right?" Bradly seemed to snap back to reality, nodding hastily. "Of course you can." He barked orders at the secretary to fetch it immediately, all the while stealing wary glances at her face. Once he confirmed she wasn't giving anything away, he exhaled almost imperceptibly in relief. He said, "Stella, what's with the sudden interest? You've never bothered with company matters before." Stella answered coolly, "After the account freeze last night, I decided it's smarter to set up a separate one." Bradly's expression froze again. "Stella..." The secretary returned promptly with the report. Stella brushed Bradly aside, skimmed through it quickly, and was heading for the door when he caught her by the wrist. He said, "Stella, about the family dinner tonight, are you coming home with me?" His tone was pleading, like he needed her answer to reassure himself that she hadn't caught on to anything fishy. Stella didn't look back, just replying calmly, "Sure." Bradly's face lit up. "Great, I'll swing by after work to pick you up." Stella dropped her gaze, masking the cool detachment in her eyes. She'd only agreed to head back to the family estate for one specific reason. The marriage license from when she and Bradly had tied the knot was a phony, but he'd made a whole production out of stashing it away at the house, claiming it had to be kept secure. Nothing could serve as stronger proof. Once she got her hands on it, his bigamy would be ironclad. Stella didn't bother waiting for Bradly; she hailed a cab and got there ahead of time. She'd figured it was just a standard family gathering, but she was caught off guard by the full turnout. Bradly's parents, fresh from their overseas vacation last week, were back, and even the distant relatives from the Woodard family's side branches had shown up en masse. "Stella, dear." As she walked in, Nadine Woodard peered over her shoulder. "Bradly didn't come with you?" Stella answered evenly, "He'll be along shortly." Nadine clicked her tongue, her irritation obvious. "On an important occasion like this, letting someone from outside the family arrive solo, what's got into him?" Stella's brow furrowed just a touch. She and Bradly had been engaged since childhood, but after her mother's passing, the Daniels family's status had tanked while the Woodard family kept climbing. That was when Nadine started pushing to scrap the arrangement, and she'd mentioned it more than a few times. But Chuck Woodard was upright and principled, flat-out refusing to play the social-climbing game. With Bradly dead set on marrying her and no one else, Nadine had reluctantly given in, though she made her resentment clear. Even after the marriage, she never passed up an opportunity to give Stella the cold shoulder. She was about to add something else when the butler rushed in and murmured, "He's here." Nadine promptly dropped the subject with Stella and jumped to her feet, the extended family hustling out right behind her to welcome the arrivals. The level of pomp surprised Stella. The Woodard family was already at the top of Ostralver's social elite. For them to pull out all the stops like this... Standing at the edge of the group, Stella glanced up and saw a black Maybach rolling up to the front of the estate. Someone hurried forward to open the door respectfully, and a tall, imposing figure stepped out unhurriedly. The man wore a sleek black suit, his chiseled features sharp, eyes as midnight, radiating a fierce intensity. Every gesture exuded a natural poise and authority that made it tough to hold his stare. The crowd swarmed forward in a rush, but he stayed cool and detached the whole time, his stunningly handsome face as impassive as carved ice, showing zero emotion. Then, as if picking up on something, he looked up toward Stella. Their eyes locked unexpectedly, sending her heart pounding. It was Milford Woodard, Bradly's brother. He'd returned to the country. Though they were brothers in name, Milford wasn't all that tight with the family. He'd headed overseas young and had spent years growing the business abroad. His father Edward Woodard was a total lightweight, good only at spending cash, not earning it. His grandpa Chuck had the smarts and drive, but age was catching up, leaving him unable to manage it all. Real power over the Woodard family had shifted to Milford ages ago. Stella let out a quiet breath. She thought, 'That explains the big crowd today. They've all turned out for Milford.' Chapter 6 Need Help? Stella lingered in the corner of the living room, watching the relatives descend like a swarm of locusts, all scrambling to surround Milford. Bradly stood next to Nadine, flashing a polished smile as he greeted, "Hey, Milford." The uncles who'd been buttering up Bradly just a minute ago quickly switched gears, beaming with over-the-top enthusiasm as they stepped up to say hello. "Milford, what prompted the sudden return?" "Milford, I hear you're in the middle of acquiring a domestic company? You're just getting more impressive by the day." "Come on inside, take a seat. We've got some top-shelf coffee." Bradly caught the stark contrast in the uncles' warmth, his smile fading briefly before he pulled it together and led the way forward. Stella quietly eyed the tall, strikingly handsome Milford striding into the living room like the star of the show, instinctively edging back a step. Now fully pushed to the fringes of the crowd, she shifted aside to let the trailing group pass, doing everything she could to blend into the wallpaper. Milford approached steadily. Unlike Bradly's flashy, outgoing vibe, he had a more brooding, aloof kind of handsomeness, like a pine tree blanketed in snow, regal and intimidating. He acknowledged the flattery around him with simple nods, his eyes scanning the room casually, subtly taking stock of everyone there. Until his gaze swept over Stella again, and he came to an abrupt halt. He paused, causing Bradly to stop too. "Something wrong, Milford?" Milford didn't respond, his steady gaze fixed on Stella. It was only a look, but it jolted her to her core. She felt an odd sense of being claimed, uninvited. Yet she'd barely crossed paths with Milford before. Bradly and the others traced his stare, his eyebrow quirking up. "Stella, come say hi to Big Milford." Stella started to step forward, but Milford beat her to it, walking straight toward her. Bradly and the rest exchanged surprised glances. So far, everyone had been approaching Milford. He hadn't initiated with a soul. Milford's deep eyes gave nothing away. "Stella?" Her breath hitched, like a faint breeze had brushed her ear. She hadn't anticipated him coming over to chat. It had been years, and they'd only met once or twice, but he still remembered her. Stella nodded. "Milford, it's been ages—" Before she could finish, Milford held out his hand. The move was so casual, so natural. Out of pure reflex and politeness, Stella extended hers, their palms connecting. In that brief clasp, she felt him squeeze gently, his thumb settling on her fingers and grazing them with a warm intensity. Milford released after just a second. Suddenly, Bradly sidled up, drawing Stella into his side with an arm around her waist, lacing his fingers through her left hand. He said, "Milford, how long are you in town this time? Stella and I can take you out to dinner one of these days." Milford took in their cozy pose, his glance dropping to their intertwined hands. "About a month." The words had barely left his mouth when Chuck came down the stairs, leaning on the butler for support. Milford headed over to talk with him. Not long after, the kitchen called that the party was ready. Stella trailed Bradly to their seats on the left side of the main table. Everyone filed in and sat. As the eldest branch, the two Woodard brothers took priority. Chuck claimed the head of the main table, with Nadine and Milford next in line. Stella and Bradly fell further down the order, landing her right across from Milford on the diagonal. The family feast got underway, with everyone firing questions at Milford about what he'd been up to lately. Stella kept her head down, nibbling at her food while catching bits of the conversation. Zrester bigwig, major stakeholder in Wonder Group, founder of that financial exchange and the smart transportation AI... Milford's credentials were endless and mind-blowing. She thought back to that Zrester party invite list she'd snagged years ago. Milford was third from the top, while she languished at the bottom. In all these years, she'd had next to no interaction with him. Right after the wedding, this mysterious Milford had only shown up once. He dropped off a gift and vanished. In just a handful of years, Milford had climbed to the pinnacle of Zrester's power players. His talent was obvious. Before long, the family party wound down, and folks scattered to grab desserts. Still hung up on that marriage license, Stella excused herself to head upstairs for a coat change. Bradly was itching to chat with Milford, his gaze fixed that way as he muttered distractedly, "Yeah, go on up." Stella wasted no time hustling upstairs. With the crowd milling about downstairs, she slipped to the third floor of the villa and nudged open Bradly's bedroom door. There it was: the glaring marriage license perched right on top of the nightstand, framed, flanked by their wedding portrait. As she stepped closer, memories of Bradly's cozy moments with Shanna flooded her brain, her nails digging slowly into her palm. That license seared her eyes, like it was sneering at her gullibility. She never should've caved, never should've handed Bradly a second shot. It just went to show that people's hearts circled back for seconds. Disgust flickered in her eyes as she hauled the desk's computer chair over, the kind with wheels and a swivel, shaky at best. She climbed onto it, planting one foot on the bed for stability, teetering just enough to hold steady. Stella hiked up her pearl-white knee-length dress a bit and stretched upward slowly. Fingers extended to the max, but she was still a couple inches shy. She rose onto her tiptoes, straining, but no dice. Frowning from her perch, she scanned around and snagged a book from beside the cabinet. As she leaned down, footsteps suddenly echoed outside the door. Fast, but measured. A man's, for sure. Her pulse spiked. She clutched the table, scrambling to hop down, but, perfect timing, her other sleeve caught on the cabinet's edge. She tugged frantically to break free, but it was too late to descend. The door flew open out of nowhere. Stella went rigid, her knees giving way as she toppled backward off the chair. A quick yelp escaped her, but the expected crash never hit. A firm hand latched precisely onto her thigh, another banding around her waist, hauling her into a solid hold and planting her feet firmly on the floor. She slammed into a warm, toned chest, a crisp, grounding sandalwood aroma enveloping her, not Bradly's scent. Stella glanced up, nearly clipping the guy's chin. Milford let go right away, backing off a step to give her space. Her cheeks burned, the thigh he'd gripped feeling like it was on fire. Mortified and frozen, she stammered, "Th-thanks." Milford stayed composed, his eyes skimming her flushed face and the pinkened patch of skin on her thigh from his hold. His Adam's apple dipped subtly. "Didn't realize you were in here. My bad." Stella shook her head, even more flustered. She was the one imposing on him. Milford flicked a glance upward. "Need some help?" She looked too. Up top, the marriage license screamed for attention. Chapter 7 Don't Let Me Hate You Stella just came out with it. "I want to get the marriage license down." Milford hesitated for a beat, without probing why she needed it, and slid the chair out of the way. Tall and long-limbed, he barely had to tip up on his toes to snag it effortlessly. Milford skimmed the lettering on the license, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes before the faintest quirk tugged at his lips, almost undetectable. He passed it over to Stella. "Ah, I see." She missed the words, taking it with a soft murmur: "Thanks, Milford." Her palms were slick with sweat now, but holding the certificate still sent an icy shiver through her. Those bold letters were a brutal reminder. This whole marriage had been one big joke. From beginning to end, Bradly's grand performance of undying love had always had a third wheel in the shadows. Milford dropped his gaze. Towering over her, all he could make out was the neat swirl at the top of her head, round and oddly appealing. Those slim, pale hands gripped the certificate like a vise, completely bloodless. Milford asked offhandedly, "So, what's the marriage license for?" "Oh, I just want to bring it home and store it there," Stella shot back, pulling an excuse out of thin air. Milford's stare felt like it enveloped her, the heat of it almost scorching, though he kept his hands to himself. Then he casually adjusted his cufflinks and turned to go. Stella let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, sagging against the cool cabinet. Her thigh still tingled with warmth from his grip; she quickly smoothed her skirt down, tucked the license into her bag, and only left the room once everything looked undisturbed. Bradly was still out in the back garden, deep in conversation. Stella kept her face neutral, strolling over to stand at his side. A few relatives were chatting with him. "Hey, word is Milford actually got back a couple days ago, but only tipped us off today." Bradly looked taken aback. "I thought he was flying in today?" "Nope, sounds like he hit up some auction. I only heard bits and pieces, supposedly the other night at the Empire Auction House." "He must not have gone. I was there that evening too, and I didn't see him anywhere," Bradly said, frowning in confusion. Stella's eyelashes flickered subtly, but she played it cool. Out of nowhere, her mind jumped back to that enigmatic bidder in suite 217. She wondered, 'Could Milford be the mystery guest who got the bracelet for me?' She shoved the thought down as soon as it surfaced. They'd only crossed paths once, total strangers really, connected by the flimsiest in-law tie. No matter how you sliced it, Milford wouldn't stick his neck out for her. Just like Bradly said, he hadn't caught wind of anything, so it couldn't be Milford. Stella let it go. After some more mingling, the group started to break up. Bradly steered her over to bid farewell to Milford. "Mom, Milford, we're taking off. Let's set up a family dinner soon when things settle." Milford slouched back in his chair with effortless nonchalance and gave a nod. "I'm knee-deep in an acquisition, no hurry on the get-together. But you..." He lifted his head, his expression sharpening. "Keep your life on the straight and narrow. Don't veer off track." The edge of warning in his voice was crystal clear. Bradly had grown up overshadowed by Milford; he went rigid but brushed it off casually. "Come on, everything's good. My company's running smooth as ever. If you're skeptical, drop by anytime and pore over the financials—knock yourself out." "It's not just about the company," Milford said softly, eyes down as he savored a sip of coffee. Stella couldn't help stealing a glance at him, and in that instant, a ridiculous idea struck her. From what Bradly had mentioned, Milford was abroad most of the time but still had the inside scoop on everything back home. She wondered, 'Does he know about the shady stuff Bradly is up to on the sly?' "Milford, I hear you. I'll make sure to nurture my marriage with Stella, our whole life together." Bradly grinned, threading his fingers through Stella's. Milford's gaze lingered on their joined hands for a second before drifting away, sealed with a subtle nod. Stella had no desire for any more close contact with Bradly, so she subtly shook his hand free without thinking. A split second later, his disbelieving stare locked onto her face, and he tried to grab her again. She'd known her move would humiliate him in the moment, so she didn't bother saying goodbye to Milford. She just turned and walked out ahead. Once they slid into the car, Bradly shed his polite, deferential mask from earlier, reverting to his entitled rich-kid swagger. He tugged his tie loose, a flicker of annoyance pinching his brows. "Always playing the big-brother card to chew me out, same crap since we were little. "So what if he's crushing it overseas? I'm holding my own just fine back home. Who in Ostralver would even think about messing with me?" Bradly fished out a menthol cigarette on autopilot, ready to light up, but he caught himself after glancing at Stella and shoved it back. He said, "All these years, folks have been whispering, or saying it straight to my face, that my company's thriving because of his pull. Like he's behind every damn thing. "And you? You flat-out refused to let me hold your hand back there. Trying to make me look like an idiot in front of him?" His expression iced over, the edge in his voice impossible to miss. Stella's frown deepened as she took it in. Even without knowing Milford all that well, she understood that Bradly's cocky antics in Ostralver, brushing people off like they were nothing, had always been propped up by Milford's clout. She'd assumed the brothers were tight, but clearly Bradly's respect was just for show; underneath, his grudge against Milford simmered deep. She could overlook a lot, but with things the way they were now, there was zero point in him putting on that phony hand-holding act. Stella gripped her bag, the one with the marriage license inside, and couldn't bite her tongue. "We haven't held hands in forever. It feels off to me." The car went dead quiet. She was right. Their physical closeness had dwindled so much that even she couldn't pinpoint the last time. Bradly's brow creased, and he snapped the cigarette filter clean off between his fingers. "What was that?" Stella met his eyes steadily. "From here on out, let's skip the pointless touchy-feely stuff. It just doesn't sit right." She hadn't even finished when the brakes screeched harshly. The car lurched to a halt on the empty shoulder of the road. Stella almost smacked into the window from the force, her pulse hammering as she barked, "Are you out of your mind?" Bradly loomed over her, fingers digging into her chin, irritation boiling in his glare. "Stella, do you have any idea what you're saying?" The pinch stung like crazy, and the absurdity of it all hit her as she wrestled to shove him off. "Is it not true? When's the last time we even held hands. Can you remember?" Bradly's gaze turned stormy, like she'd struck a raw spot. "I bet you're hung up on Milford, just like that girl from the second branch. That's why you pulled away in front of him. You're trying to cut ties with me?" "Bradly! What the hell are you babbling about?" Anger surged through her as she pushed harder. "Don't you dare pin your gross history on me!" The way the family had orbited Milford like he was the sun had obviously gotten under his skin. The more she resisted, the darker his look grew. Abruptly, he leaned in and smashed his mouth against hers. Stella's eyes flew wide, her head whipping aside to evade as she hammered at his shoulders with everything she had. He'd locked lips with Shanna god knows how often. The thought turned her stomach, so she clamped down and bit him hard. Bradly yelped in pain, jerking back as the fog cleared and he clocked what he'd just done, regret flashing across his face. Blood dotted his lip, but he brushed it off, lunging to wrap her in his arms. "I'm sorry, Stella, baby, I'm so sorry. I screwed up; it was a stupid impulse..." Drained of energy, Stella sagged into the passenger seat, letting him hold her while a barren wave of emptiness and revulsion washed over her. The hug she'd once melted into now repulsed her to her core. "Get off me." Her voice came out rough and scratchy. "Bradly, don't push me to hating you."
Chapter 1 Don't Want Him Anymore "I'm sorry, ma'am." On the other end of the line, the insurance customer service rep said coolly, "After checking our records, the car owner, Mr. Woodard, is indeed married, but the spouse listed here isn't you." Stella Daniels had gotten into a car accident on her way to the Woodard Group headquarters. She couldn't get through to Bradly Woodard on his phone, so she had no choice but to call the insurance company. The car was registered in Bradly's name, but as his wife, she should be able to process the claim too. "When Mr. Woodard picked up the car, he came with his wife and provided the original marriage license. Her last name is Erickson, and her full name is Shanna Erickson," the rep said. It hit Stella like a slap in the face. Dizziness washed over her in waves, leaving her whole body shaking uncontrollably. She and Bradly had been childhood sweethearts. Their families were old friends, and everyone in Ostralver's high society knew how clingy he was with her. Bradly couldn't stand being apart from her even for a single day. Three years ago, when Stella headed abroad for her studies, Bradly had the plane stopped just for her. During her three years in Ensland, he expanded his business overseas to make it easier to look after her. Sixteen thousand miles apart, he'd still fly across the ocean every week to see her. The year she came down with a severe lung illness and nearly didn't pull through, she spent a week in intensive care. Bradly ignored the infection risks and stayed right by her side, sliding a ring onto her finger. He said, "If anything happens to you, I'll go with you. We'll be husband and wife in the next life too." For Bradly's sake, she turned down her mentor's offer to stay on in the lab and headed back home. Brimming with excitement, she went to find him, planning to surprise him. But when she pushed open the door to the CEO's office, she saw a slender, pretty woman straddling his lap. The woman's innocent face tilted upward, her voice whiny and aggrieved. "Mr. Woodard, what happens to me now that Stella is back?" Bradly sat in his executive chair, his tall frame looming over her. A flash of ruthlessness crossed his stern features. "You? You're just her stand-in. Don't forget your place." He lifted his hand, pinching her delicate chin with a sneer. "Barely a three-out-of-ten resemblance, and you think you can compare to her?" Stella was still clutching the gift she'd prepared for him. With a loud "bang," it dropped to the floor, finally breaking the scene in the office. Bradly's face drained of color as he shoved the woman off and jumped to his feet. That woman was Shanna. After Stella caught them in the act, Bradly fired Shanna on the spot and pulled out all the stops to win her back. Bradly, the arrogant prince of Ostralver's elite circles, humbled himself to the dust before her, begging her to give him another chance. Any project she set her sights on, he'd drop without a second thought. He stood in the pouring rain outside her building for over a week, just for a glimpse of her. He said, "Stella, I'm not asking you to forgive me. At least let me explain. "I only ever saw Shanna as your replacement. You've been gone abroad for so long; I missed you terribly. I swear, I just kept her around. Nothing more ever happened between us. "That time you walked in, I'd had too much to drink, and she deliberately tempted me. I lost control for a moment... "I've already let her go, and she won't show up in our lives again. Stella, please, come back to me." Back then, Stella couldn't stand even the slightest betrayal. She insisted on breaking off the engagement. Until that one incident. She was kidnapped by a business rival. The kidnappers reneged on the deal, tied her up in an abandoned factory, and set the place ablaze. Bradly charged into the flames without a second thought to rescue her, shielding her from a collapsing steel beam. He ended up gravely injured, confined to bed for nearly six months. By risking his life, Bradly finally melted her resolve. Once he was out of the hospital, she accepted his proposal, and they threw a lavish wedding. In the two years since they tied the knot, he'd treated her just as devotedly as ever, with zero scandals. He even imposed a strict curfew on himself, heading home right on time every day. Even on out-of-town business trips, he'd video call her constantly. His partners would tease him about being henpecked. He never denied it. Instead, he'd grin proudly and say, "A real man takes care of his family." Memories rushed through Stella's mind like a whirlwind, every past moment flashing by in a blur. Her legs buckled, and she dropped to her knees, burying her face in her hands. She couldn't figure out which Bradly was the real one anymore. A bitter, mocking gleam sparked in her eyes. She thought, 'How absurd.' She'd been his wife for two years, and only now was she learning that even their marriage license had been a sham. Stella scrubbed her face hard, her bangs already soaked with cold sweat. She ignored the other driver's furious yelling and calmly dialed the police. They showed up fast. After finishing her statement, Stella left the station under a sky that had gone completely dark. Her phone lit up with several missed calls from Bradly. When she hadn't answered, he'd sent texts instead. Bradly: [Babe, I was tied up in a key meeting this afternoon. Signal jammers were on, so I missed your call. You okay?] Bradly: [I've got a client dinner tonight, so I'll be late getting home. I double-checked: no women involved, so no need to worry.] Bradly: [Head to bed early. Don't wait up. Love you.] Stella stared at the screen, a sharp wave of irony twisting in her gut. Bradly didn't stagger in until the wee hours. He reeked of alcohol, which almost, but not quite, masked the subtle whiff of perfume on him. "Honey..." He could barely keep his balance, stumbling over to wrap his arms around her through the blanket. "I missed you so damn much..." Stella didn't say a word. Only once he was dead to the world did she sit up quietly and unlock his phone with his fingerprint. The thing was squeaky clean, no suspicious traces at all. His contacts were mostly buddies and business folks, with hers pinned at the top as "Darling Wife." Flawlessly tidy, just like their sham of a marriage. Stella hooked the phone up to her computer, and it didn't take long to uncover his second WhatsApp account. She signed in, and right away, messages popped up from a profile with a cute pink kitten avatar, labeled "Baby." Shanna: [Bradly, thanks for tonight. Without you, I wouldn't have known what to do.] Shanna: [I've always thought meeting you was the luckiest thing that's ever happened to me. I won't intrude on your life. As long as you swing by to see me once in a while, that's enough to make me happy.] Stella scrolled back through the history. She'd suspected as much, but seeing it all laid out still hit her like a punch to the chest, leaving her breathless. They chatted nearly every day. Shanna never missed a good morning message, and Bradly's replies had shifted over time, from total silence at first, to sporadic responses, and now to answering every single one. A chill spread through her. Stella clutched the phone tighter, knowing she should quit while she was ahead but unable to stop herself from digging deeper. Shanna: [Bradly, sorry, I had a few drinks and lost it for a bit. Doc says I'm okay now, so don't stress.] Shanna: [Mrs. Woodard's birthday bash is important. Go enjoy it with her. I'll be fine.] Stella squeezed her eyes shut as the memory came rushing back. Her birthday. Bradly had spent over a month planning it down to the last detail, but that day, he was totally distracted. Hell, he almost cut his own hand while slicing the cake. When she'd asked what was up, he'd brushed it off as work drama, told her not to worry, then pulled her into a soft embrace and encouraged her to blow out the candles and make a wish. It all made sense now, as she stared at this chat log. That same day, Shanna had tried to kill herself by slashing her wrists and ended up in the ER. A sour bitterness flooded her chest like a rising tide. In those brief seconds when she'd closed her eyes to wish, she wondered, 'Was he agonizing over Shanna in the hospital, or picturing endless years together with her?' Stella knew she didn't need an answer to that anymore. She gently placed the phone back and looked down at Bradly, fast asleep beside her. She'd known him since she was four, and for the twenty years that followed, she'd truly believed his love was hers alone, irreplaceable. But now she saw it for what it was: just cheap free samples at a store, handed out to anyone who walked by. If that was all it amounted to, she was done with it. Chapter 2 Bid Against Her The next day, Stella woke to find Bradly busy in the kitchen, his broad shoulders narrowing to a slim waist, his tall, lean build moving with purpose. The sight hit her hard, a dull ache tightening in her chest. Bradly had learned to cook entirely for her sake. She still remembered that turbulent period when the Woodard Group was in crisis. His rivals had targeted her, paying off a servant to poison her food. She'd been unconscious for three full days. When she finally woke, Bradly was there, his eyes red-rimmed and veined with exhaustion, gripping her hand like a lifeline. The instant she stirred, the imposing Bradly crumbled forward, enveloping her in a hug as scalding tears fell onto her skin. From then on, Bradly threw himself into cooking lessons, taking charge of all her meals. In less than a month, he'd gone from a spoiled elite who couldn't distinguish spices to turning out dishes worthy of a Michelin chef. Just then, his phone rang. Stella glanced at it but made no move to answer. Bradly darted out of the kitchen, apron still on, grabbing the phone with a barely concealed flash of anxiety. Stella pretended not to notice and went to wash up. When she came back, the table was set with breakfast, and he was slipping into his suit jacket from the coat rack. Seeing her, he said gently, "There's an emergency at work. I have to run. Sorry I can't join you for breakfast." Stella murmured, "Sure, work comes first." He was clearly in a hurry, because he didn't pick up on the new edge of cool distance in her tone and rushed out. She stared blankly after him until he was gone, then dumped the entire spread into the trash. Then she picked up her phone and dialed a number. "That offer you made before? I'm on board." The person on the other end erupted in delight, chattering away before shifting to broken Andosa Language. "Stella, why the sudden change of heart? I've bugged you about this so many times, and you always said you were married now and focusing on family." A mocking glint flickered in Stella's eyes. She thought, 'Married? This so-called marriage has been dead on arrival.' The caller was her former mentor from her overseas studies. He'd reached out lately, hoping she'd join his new team and spearhead a major project. At the time, she'd kept saying no out of loyalty to Bradly. Now, she only wished she'd seen through the absurd joke of their marriage earlier. After the call, she contacted immigration to schedule a passport renewal. It would take about a week. But before heading out, she had one loose end to tie up. That evening, Stella showed up at a private auction at the Cloud Hotel. She was after one of her mother's keepsakes. Her mom had died when she was eight, and soon after, the Daniels family had liquidated her wedding gift. Stella had been hunting down the items ever since. Over the years, she'd only reclaimed a few. Tonight's auction featured a bracelet from that collection, one her mother had picked up on a trip to Ijance. It was utterly unique, irreplaceable. Whatever it took, she was getting it back. Stella settled into her seat just as the auction was about to start. She was flipping through the catalog when Bradly's voice floated over. "Didn't I already pick out that royal blue sapphire set for you? Not good enough?" His voice carried that familiar tenderness. Shanna linked her arm with his, pouting playfully. "Your taste sucks! I want to pick my own birthday gift." Stella watched them quietly until Bradly threaded through the guests and their gazes collided by chance. The color drained from his face. On pure reflex, he jerked his arm away from Shanna. "Stella." He strode over quickly. "I tried calling you a few times, but you didn't answer. Were you planning to surprise me?" Even though he tried to play it cool, she could still catch that subtle hint of panic in his expression. Stella didn't bother calling him on it, replying evenly, "My phone was on silent. I didn't hear it." Bradly visibly relaxed, casually taking her hand in his with a look of concern. "Your hands are like ice. Didn't I warn you about the cold snap today? You're always putting style over staying warm. If you catch a chill, you know it'll just kill me." As he talked, he signaled a server for a blanket and draped it snugly around her shoulders. Stella kept a straight face, brushing him off as she looked past him to Shanna, who lingered behind with a scowl. Shanna nibbled her lip, then defiantly dropped into the seat next to Bradly, her gaze simmering with irritation. Bradly leaned closer, dropping his voice to explain, "We just wrapped up a major project at the company, and Shanna pulled her weight big time. Her birthday's around the corner, so I thought I'd treat her to something as a project bonus." He eyed her anxiously. "Stella, you're not mad, right?" Shanna piped up in a soft, vulnerable tone. "Mrs. Woodard, if this upsets you, I'll just go. I don't want to get in the way of you and Mr. Woodard." Stella's mouth quirked into a smile that never touched her eyes. "We're married. A little thing like this? Of course it doesn't bother me." The auction got underway shortly after. Bradly treated Shanna like she was invisible, focusing entirely on Stella. He paged through the catalog, throwing in bids left and right. "Babe, this would look amazing on you." He grinned, tenderly brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his tone warm and intimate. "You'd be gorgeous in it." Stella averted her eyes, but out of the corner of her vision, she saw Shanna discreetly clutching the edge of Bradly's jacket in the dim light. Their gazes locked for a split second in a shared, lingering look. She masked the derision in her own eyes, struck by how absurd it all was. Bradly seemed totally at ease juggling both women, convinced he was keeping things balanced, one with the official status, the other with his undivided public attention. She thought, 'What could be fairer than that?' But Stella had never been interested in that kind of equilibrium. Her world extended far beyond romance. Bradly? He was just a small detour on her path, a misstep she'd own up to. And now, it was time to set things right. "Next up: a string of bracelet. Fine-grained texture, deep aroma that lingers. Starting bid at 170,000 dollars, with increments of at least 20,000 dollars!" The auctioneer's pumped-up voice echoed through the room. Finally, Stella's main target for the evening. Bids flew in fast, the screen flickering with updates as the auctioneer called out, "Number 17 lady at 200,000 dollars! Number 9 gentleman ups it to 260,000 dollars! Going higher?" Once the initial frenzy tapered off, Stella lifted her paddle. "500,000 dollars." She'd doubled the current bid in one go. It was a hefty amount. Sure, the bracelet was top-notch, but it wasn't the auction's highlight. The room went quiet after her call; no one countered. "Fantastic! Number 11 lady at 500,000 dollars! "500,000 dollars once! 500,000 dollars twice!" The auctioneer hoisted his gavel, poised to bring it down. "No more bids? Then 500,000 dollars—" "520,000 dollars," A gentle, hesitant voice interrupted. Shanna shrank against Bradly's side, paddle in hand, murmuring timidly to him, "Is this where I put in the amount?" Chapter 3 You're Dirty Stella frowned and raised her bid. "540,000 dollars." But Shanna was right behind her, countering with, "560,000 dollars." How annoyingly precise, each time, she stuck to the bare minimum, slapping on just 20,000 dollars more than Stella's offer. Shanna turned toward her, her voice dripping with plea. "Stella, you've got plenty of jewelry already. Please, let me have this one. I adore it. "I'm not like you, born with money, everything handed to you on a silver platter. You snap your fingers and get whatever you want. If it goes any higher, I really won't be able to keep up." Stella didn't bother looking at her, just quirking her lips in a thin smile. "Isn't Mr. Woodard covering the cost for you? What are you stressing about?" Shanna's face went a shade paler, but she answered in that soft, demure tone, "Even so, Mr. Woodard earns his money the hard way. If I can save him a bit, I ought to." She was the epitome of considerate and caring. After several more back-and-forth bids, the bracelet's price had soared to 700,000 dollars. Stella let out a chilly scoff and was opening her mouth to up the ante when Bradly beat her to it. He said, "Babe, why don't we just let Shanna take this bracelet?" Stella's fingers curled into a tight fist, her nails biting into her palm. She lifted her gaze, any lingering warmth in her eyes turning to ice. "What did you just say?" Bradly let out a resigned sigh, giving her hand a comforting pat as he murmured gently, "Babe, I already told Shanna she'd get a gift tonight, and she's got her heart set on this one. No need to compete with her. "Plus, I've already snagged you a handful of other pieces. Isn't that plenty?" He said it all lightly, teasingly, as if it were nothing more than a harmless quip. Stella shut her eyes, a nameless sourness creeping along her nerves, coiling around her heart until it felt like she couldn't draw a breath. Given Shanna's modest background, 700,000 dollars was way out of her league. She wouldn't even make the guest list here on her own. The only reason she was in that seat, trading bids blow for blow, was Bradly's backing. His pampering had delivered her straight into Stella's path. Stella whispered, "What if I refuse to back down?" She hoisted her paddle once more, her voice echoing through the room. "1 million dollars." A hush blanketed the hall. The auctioneer clearly picked up on the drama, his delivery faltering. "Number eleven at 1 million dollars. Do I hear higher?" Shanna's eyes welled up, on the verge of tears, as she cast a helpless look at Bradly before tacking on another fifty thousand. "1 million 20 thousand dollars." Stella's features hardened to frost, and she was poised to fire back when the manager bustled over, bending close to murmur, "Mrs. Woodard, apologies. We ran a credit verification on your account, and it's frozen. Got another one we can use?" The words slammed into her like a bolt from the blue, ringing in her ears. She snapped her head toward Bradly, but he'd already looked away. An icy numbness spread through her arms and legs. She though,t 'Of course, it has to be him.' Her primary account was linked with his; besides her, only he could authorize a freeze on her cards. Triumph flickered in Shanna's eyes as she added with a pointed edge, "Well, in that case, Mrs. Woodard, maybe it's time to step aside. You've got so much already. Can't you let me have this one little thing?" Up on stage, the auction rolled on, the display frozen on Shanna's latest bid: 1 million 20 thousand dollars. Shanna could hardly hide her glee, chirping sweetly, "Go on, call it!" But the words had barely left her lips when someone announced he would bid for the lot at any costs right in the second-floor VIP suite. After a momentary silence, the room burst into chaos. "He's declared absolute intent!" Even the auctioneer's expression changed. He'd been in the game for over a decade, but this was his first encounter with such a scenario. He hurriedly called out, "Lot number six goes to the gentleman in box 217, regardless of how high the price goes." Anyone up in those second-floor VIP suites was either swimming in money or held serious sway in Ostralver's upper crust. Stella glanced upward toward the source of the voice, catching only a vague outline behind the draped curtains. Even when she couldn't see his face, the man's crossed-legged posture radiated an unspoken dominance that pressed down on the room. The auctioneer slammed his gavel down with finality, proclaiming, "Congratulations to our esteemed guest in box 217 on winning lot number six! You're now upgraded to black gold status!" Across all of Ostralver's elite scene, fewer than a handful had ever hit black gold level at these events. Stella wondered, 'Just who is this mystery man?' Stella loosened her clenched fist slightly, torn between relief that her mother's heirloom hadn't landed in Shanna's clutches and anxiety over reclaiming it from this unknown figure. No matter what, she'd stop at nothing, pay any price, to bring her mother's possession home. She rose to her feet, intent on marching over to box 217 for a chat, when the attendant who'd just ducked inside reappeared, tray in hand with the bracelet. "What's this? The bidder in 217 having second thoughts?" "Auctions don't do take-backs." "Probably short on funds. I called it. No one's done this here before." As the murmurs swirled, the attendant headed straight for Stella, dipping into a courteous bow with a warm smile. She said, "Mrs. Woodard, the gentleman in box 217 requests that I deliver the bracelet to you as a gift. He wishes for you to follow your true path and for all to unfold as it should." The place erupted in gossip once more, with guests shooting glances her way, some envious, others skeptical, many flat-out stunned. "Isn't that Mrs. Woodard? What's her deal with the upstairs guy?" "Likely just buttering up Mr. Woodard." "Nah, I don't buy it. Out of all the goodies tonight, why zero in on those beads for Mrs. Woodard? Sounds like she's got a real connection there." The buzz filtered through, and Bradly's face turned stone-cold. In a tight, edged voice, he demanded, "Stella, what's the story with you and whoever's in box 217?" Stella held his piercing stare and said flatly, "I have no idea who he is." "!" Bradly jumped up, clamping down on her wrist like a vice. Her soft, fair skin reddened almost instantly under the pressure. Stella winced sharply, jerking her arm back on reflex. "Bradly, have you lost your mind? Haven't you stirred up enough drama for one day?" But he barreled on, blind to her fury, his reddened eyes locked on her as if he could swallow her up. "What's really between you two? "Stella, through all our married years, I've bent over backward for you. Anything you desired, I served it up without question. Why would you betray me like this?" In his mind, it was already a done deal: she was entangled in something shady with the man above. If the guy was angling for a favor from him, Bradly would've recognized him right away. People in Ostralver didn't beat around the bush when they needed something from him. They came direct. The jab landed raw and direct. Bradly blinked, frozen for a beat as a flicker of alarm shot through his eyes. Chapter 4 Don't Know You'd Come Bradly said, "I'm sorry, Stella. I didn't mean it like that. I had no right getting jealous over you and some stranger. It's all on me." Bradly's eyes reddened. "But honestly, there's nothing going on between Shanna and me. I just brought her along as a thank-you. Can you let this slide?" Seeing his cue, Shanna ducked her head meekly, her voice catching. "That's right, Mrs. Woodard. I've been bending over backward to keep my distance from Mr. Woodard so you wouldn't get the wrong impression. "I'm not asking for the world, just a decent birthday gift. I didn't grow up with your advantages; you've had everything handed to you and even snagged a catch like Mr. Woodard. Can't I at least pick out something for myself?" "Just a gift, huh?" Stella closed in on her, one step at a time. "Ms. Erickson, I've never given a damn about this 'gift' you're going on about. What gets under my skin is you, a Woodard Group employee, crossing lines you have no business crossing." As they drew closer, Bradly instinctively stepped in front of Shanna, his voice soft and coaxing. "Stella, if it's bugging you this much, I'll transfer her to a branch office once the auction's over. "But for now, cut me some slack. Let Shanna have the bracelet. When we get home, name your price on anything, and it's yours." Shanna bobbed her head in agreement, tears glistening on her lashes as she pleaded, "Stella, I really adore this bracelet. You've got it all already. Why go after the one thing I want? "Or is this just because you hate my guts and can't resist taking shots at me?" "What makes you think I'd ever like you?" Stella let out a cold snort. "This belonged to me from the start. Why the hell would I give it up?" She took the bracelet from the attendant with casual ease, her smile sharp but empty. "Ms. Erickson, know your place." Her refusal to budge finally wore through Bradly's patience, erasing every bit of softness from his face. "Stella, do you have to humiliate me like this in front of everyone? Where does that leave my dignity? "It's just a crappy old bracelet. Am I really worth less to you than some trinket?" He said it with such conviction, as if he'd wiped from his memory the solemn vow he'd made when proposing: that he'd hunt down every single one of her mother's sold-off keepsakes, no matter what. Stella's hand flew up, delivering a resounding slap across his cheek. The sharp crack rang out, pulling shocked stares from every corner of the room. Bradly's head snapped sideways, his face livid as he fixed her with a glare, his words hissing through clenched teeth. "Stella, drop the drama already. Have I pampered you too much these days, turning you into this unreasonable nightmare?" Stella reined in her temper, keeping her tone even. "Bradly, you better not live to regret today." Without another word, she turned and walked out, not sparing a backward glance. As her figure receded, Shanna gently touched the angry red mark on Bradly's cheek, her voice full of worry. "Mr. Woodard, are you okay? "Stella's got no boundaries. How could she hit you with all these people watching?" Bradly swatted her hand aside, his nails digging into his palm as he stared after her retreating path. "I've spoiled her rotten, letting her forget that everything she has comes from me." Shanna peeked at his changing expression, testing the waters. "Mr. Woodard, about the bracelet..." Bradly rubbed his throbbing cheek, pulled a bank card from his pocket, and handed it over. "1.7 million dollars on there. Buy whatever catches your eye." Box 217, Stella rapped on the door, eager to thank the mystery bidder face-to-face. Silence. She caught a server walking by. "Excuse me, any idea where the gentleman from this box headed?" "He slipped out right after nabbing the last item," the server said. Disappointment flashed in her eyes, but Stella pressed on, "Do you know who he was?" The server gave her a regretful smile. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard, we're not allowed to spill on our VIPs. Don't make this harder for us." Catching herself, Stella moved out of the way. "Thanks all the same." By the time she made it home from the auction, an hour had ticked by. Stella went straight up to the study, fired up the computer, and dove into the assets registered under her and Bradly's names. After tallying up the numbers, she snatched her phone, found lawyer Rubin Cobb's contact, and hit dial. She said, "I've sorted out the asset division documents for me and Bradly and sent them over. I need you to handle the property split by tomorrow." Rubin quickly received the files and nodded respectfully. "Of course, Mrs. Woodard. I'll get right on it." Stella stared intently at her computer screen, her grip tightening on the mouse. "If Bradly's committed bigamy, how should our assets be divided?" "Generally, any property the bigamous party gained through the bigamy can be claimed back by the other spouse," Rubin replied matter-of-factly. Half of Bradly's current wealth had come from Stella's investments to support his career early on. Her expression darkened, and she promptly forwarded the marriage license between him and Shanna. "Rubin, please use every legal avenue to recover my half of the assets." After hanging up, Stella slumped back in her chair, utterly drained physically and emotionally. She closed her eyes slowly, but sleep was nowhere in sight. Bradly would never agree to a divorce. Until she had everything locked down, she couldn't let on that anything was amiss. Just then, the study door was kicked open from the outside. Bradly flung his jacket onto the desk and yanked Stella up from her seat in front of the computer. "Do you realize that because of your little outburst, I've become a laughingstock in our circles? "What exactly do you want? Are you still obsessing over what happened back then?" Stella opened her eyes slowly, her gaze settling calmly on Bradly, but she remained silent. A fire raged in Bradly's chest, intensifying by the second, and he couldn't hold back his fury any longer. "Since we got married, have I ever done anything to wrong you? I come home right on time every night after work, I always fill you in on any business dinners, and if there's even a hint of a woman involved, I skip them entirely! I've bent over backward, and it's still not good enough for you?" He remembered every detail crystal clear. In his mind, these were the sacrifices he'd made to marry her. Stella suddenly found the whole thing absurd. She couldn't bear to look at him anymore, so she stood up and walked straight out of the study without a backward glance. Behind her, Bradly's voice echoed heavily. "Stella, no matter what you think, my conscience is clear." It felt like Stella's heart had been shattered into icy fragments, a sharp, bitter pain surging through her. Her mind buzzed, and for a moment, all she could hear was that phrase repeating over and over. She thought, 'My conscience is clear? So, in his eyes, everything he's done is perfectly justifiable.' The next morning, when Stella woke up, Bradly was already gone. On the table sat the breakfast he'd prepared, tailored exactly to her tastes. Stella pressed her lips together, her feelings a complicated tangle. They'd ended things on a sour note last night, yet Bradly had still made her breakfast this morning. But this was the same man who'd lied to her for years. No matter what, it was time to end things with Bradly. She didn't touch the food and headed straight to the office. These past few years, she'd stayed out of Bradly's business dealings. A lot of her old financial records were outdated now, and she needed the latest reports. The secretary looked startled when she saw her, then managed to say, "Mrs. Woodard, are you here to see Mr. Woodard?" "No." Stella replied evenly. "Send the finance manager in to see me." Her shares were second only to Bradly's, giving her full access to every aspect of the company. The secretary hesitated briefly before nodding. Stella noticed her immediately turning to make a phone call, probably alerting Bradly. Stella didn't intervene; let her. She settled into the finance office, sipping her coffee absentmindedly while flipping through magazines on the shelf. Most were glossy entertainment rags, mixed in with novels and comics. Stella frowned, only now picking up on the details: the desk was covered in a pink plaid mat, cluttered with adorable plush toys. The standout pair was a set of couple dolls, their outfits emblazoned with the letters W and E. It hit Stella suddenly what that meant, and just then, the door behind her swung open. Shanna rushed in. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard." She was clutching a cup of coffee as she apologized. "I had no idea you'd drop by like this..." Chapter 5 All For Milford Stella arched an eyebrow as she looked her over. "So you're the finance manager?" Shanna nodded with a quick smile. "That's me. If you need anything at all, just say the word. Bradly, well, Mr. Woodard is tied up in a meeting right now. But don't worry, I'll make sure to relay whatever message you have." Stella let out a soft laugh. "No need for that." She regarded Shanna with clear curiosity. "I'm not looking for Bradly. I'm here to see you." Shanna's smile faltered for a moment before she recovered, her tone turning gentle. "Mrs. Woodard, I get that you're still bothered by what went down at the auction last night, but there's no reason to be so worked up about my connection to Mr. Woodard. After all..." She raised her hand, the elegant diamond ring on her finger glinting under the light, perfectly complementing her bashful grin. "I'm already married, and things are great between me and my husband." Stella's eyes locked on the ring, her breath hitching just for an instant. It was ridiculous. In this whole messed-up situation, she was the one playing the role of the mistress. The ring was an exact match for the one Bradly had given her during his proposal. But within seconds, Stella averted her gaze. "It's a lovely ring, but you're mistaken." She spoke unhurriedly, "I'm just here to grab the latest financial report from you. That's all." Stella caught the sour shift in Shanna's expression and smiled to herself. "Seems like you're the one on edge here, Ms. Erickson." Shanna's face transformed completely, that smug spark in her eyes snuffed out. She bit her lip, unable to find words for a long beat. Stella watched her with unruffled poise. "Do I need to repeat my request, Ms. Erickson?" The words had barely left her mouth when Bradly burst in, his expression clouding over at the sight. "Stella, wasn't the scene from last night enough?" His voice was laced with ice. "How long are you planning to drag this out? I've told you already. There's nothing going on between me and Shanna. If you don't believe me..." Stella interrupted him mid-sentence, "Oh, I believe you. Absolutely." A faint smirk tugged at her lips, though her eyes remained frosty as they settled on Shanna. "After all, Ms. Erickson's already married. She just mentioned it herself." The statement landed like a bomb. Shanna's face drained of color, and Bradly's followed suit. He shot her a withering glare. Tears sprang to Shanna's eyes in an instant. Stella had no interest in watching the drama unfold any further. She said evenly, "I'm here for this year's financials. I hold forty percent of the company. Surely I can access that, right?" Bradly seemed to snap back to reality, nodding hastily. "Of course you can." He barked orders at the secretary to fetch it immediately, all the while stealing wary glances at her face. Once he confirmed she wasn't giving anything away, he exhaled almost imperceptibly in relief. He said, "Stella, what's with the sudden interest? You've never bothered with company matters before." Stella answered coolly, "After the account freeze last night, I decided it's smarter to set up a separate one." Bradly's expression froze again. "Stella..." The secretary returned promptly with the report. Stella brushed Bradly aside, skimmed through it quickly, and was heading for the door when he caught her by the wrist. He said, "Stella, about the family dinner tonight, are you coming home with me?" His tone was pleading, like he needed her answer to reassure himself that she hadn't caught on to anything fishy. Stella didn't look back, just replying calmly, "Sure." Bradly's face lit up. "Great, I'll swing by after work to pick you up." Stella dropped her gaze, masking the cool detachment in her eyes. She'd only agreed to head back to the family estate for one specific reason. The marriage license from when she and Bradly had tied the knot was a phony, but he'd made a whole production out of stashing it away at the house, claiming it had to be kept secure. Nothing could serve as stronger proof. Once she got her hands on it, his bigamy would be ironclad. Stella didn't bother waiting for Bradly; she hailed a cab and got there ahead of time. She'd figured it was just a standard family gathering, but she was caught off guard by the full turnout. Bradly's parents, fresh from their overseas vacation last week, were back, and even the distant relatives from the Woodard family's side branches had shown up en masse. "Stella, dear." As she walked in, Nadine Woodard peered over her shoulder. "Bradly didn't come with you?" Stella answered evenly, "He'll be along shortly." Nadine clicked her tongue, her irritation obvious. "On an important occasion like this, letting someone from outside the family arrive solo, what's got into him?" Stella's brow furrowed just a touch. She and Bradly had been engaged since childhood, but after her mother's passing, the Daniels family's status had tanked while the Woodard family kept climbing. That was when Nadine started pushing to scrap the arrangement, and she'd mentioned it more than a few times. But Chuck Woodard was upright and principled, flat-out refusing to play the social-climbing game. With Bradly dead set on marrying her and no one else, Nadine had reluctantly given in, though she made her resentment clear. Even after the marriage, she never passed up an opportunity to give Stella the cold shoulder. She was about to add something else when the butler rushed in and murmured, "He's here." Nadine promptly dropped the subject with Stella and jumped to her feet, the extended family hustling out right behind her to welcome the arrivals. The level of pomp surprised Stella. The Woodard family was already at the top of Ostralver's social elite. For them to pull out all the stops like this... Standing at the edge of the group, Stella glanced up and saw a black Maybach rolling up to the front of the estate. Someone hurried forward to open the door respectfully, and a tall, imposing figure stepped out unhurriedly. The man wore a sleek black suit, his chiseled features sharp, eyes as midnight, radiating a fierce intensity. Every gesture exuded a natural poise and authority that made it tough to hold his stare. The crowd swarmed forward in a rush, but he stayed cool and detached the whole time, his stunningly handsome face as impassive as carved ice, showing zero emotion. Then, as if picking up on something, he looked up toward Stella. Their eyes locked unexpectedly, sending her heart pounding. It was Milford Woodard, Bradly's brother. He'd returned to the country. Though they were brothers in name, Milford wasn't all that tight with the family. He'd headed overseas young and had spent years growing the business abroad. His father Edward Woodard was a total lightweight, good only at spending cash, not earning it. His grandpa Chuck had the smarts and drive, but age was catching up, leaving him unable to manage it all. Real power over the Woodard family had shifted to Milford ages ago. Stella let out a quiet breath. She thought, 'That explains the big crowd today. They've all turned out for Milford.' Chapter 6 Need Help? Stella lingered in the corner of the living room, watching the relatives descend like a swarm of locusts, all scrambling to surround Milford. Bradly stood next to Nadine, flashing a polished smile as he greeted, "Hey, Milford." The uncles who'd been buttering up Bradly just a minute ago quickly switched gears, beaming with over-the-top enthusiasm as they stepped up to say hello. "Milford, what prompted the sudden return?" "Milford, I hear you're in the middle of acquiring a domestic company? You're just getting more impressive by the day." "Come on inside, take a seat. We've got some top-shelf coffee." Bradly caught the stark contrast in the uncles' warmth, his smile fading briefly before he pulled it together and led the way forward. Stella quietly eyed the tall, strikingly handsome Milford striding into the living room like the star of the show, instinctively edging back a step. Now fully pushed to the fringes of the crowd, she shifted aside to let the trailing group pass, doing everything she could to blend into the wallpaper. Milford approached steadily. Unlike Bradly's flashy, outgoing vibe, he had a more brooding, aloof kind of handsomeness, like a pine tree blanketed in snow, regal and intimidating. He acknowledged the flattery around him with simple nods, his eyes scanning the room casually, subtly taking stock of everyone there. Until his gaze swept over Stella again, and he came to an abrupt halt. He paused, causing Bradly to stop too. "Something wrong, Milford?" Milford didn't respond, his steady gaze fixed on Stella. It was only a look, but it jolted her to her core. She felt an odd sense of being claimed, uninvited. Yet she'd barely crossed paths with Milford before. Bradly and the others traced his stare, his eyebrow quirking up. "Stella, come say hi to Big Milford." Stella started to step forward, but Milford beat her to it, walking straight toward her. Bradly and the rest exchanged surprised glances. So far, everyone had been approaching Milford. He hadn't initiated with a soul. Milford's deep eyes gave nothing away. "Stella?" Her breath hitched, like a faint breeze had brushed her ear. She hadn't anticipated him coming over to chat. It had been years, and they'd only met once or twice, but he still remembered her. Stella nodded. "Milford, it's been ages—" Before she could finish, Milford held out his hand. The move was so casual, so natural. Out of pure reflex and politeness, Stella extended hers, their palms connecting. In that brief clasp, she felt him squeeze gently, his thumb settling on her fingers and grazing them with a warm intensity. Milford released after just a second. Suddenly, Bradly sidled up, drawing Stella into his side with an arm around her waist, lacing his fingers through her left hand. He said, "Milford, how long are you in town this time? Stella and I can take you out to dinner one of these days." Milford took in their cozy pose, his glance dropping to their intertwined hands. "About a month." The words had barely left his mouth when Chuck came down the stairs, leaning on the butler for support. Milford headed over to talk with him. Not long after, the kitchen called that the party was ready. Stella trailed Bradly to their seats on the left side of the main table. Everyone filed in and sat. As the eldest branch, the two Woodard brothers took priority. Chuck claimed the head of the main table, with Nadine and Milford next in line. Stella and Bradly fell further down the order, landing her right across from Milford on the diagonal. The family feast got underway, with everyone firing questions at Milford about what he'd been up to lately. Stella kept her head down, nibbling at her food while catching bits of the conversation. Zrester bigwig, major stakeholder in Wonder Group, founder of that financial exchange and the smart transportation AI... Milford's credentials were endless and mind-blowing. She thought back to that Zrester party invite list she'd snagged years ago. Milford was third from the top, while she languished at the bottom. In all these years, she'd had next to no interaction with him. Right after the wedding, this mysterious Milford had only shown up once. He dropped off a gift and vanished. In just a handful of years, Milford had climbed to the pinnacle of Zrester's power players. His talent was obvious. Before long, the family party wound down, and folks scattered to grab desserts. Still hung up on that marriage license, Stella excused herself to head upstairs for a coat change. Bradly was itching to chat with Milford, his gaze fixed that way as he muttered distractedly, "Yeah, go on up." Stella wasted no time hustling upstairs. With the crowd milling about downstairs, she slipped to the third floor of the villa and nudged open Bradly's bedroom door. There it was: the glaring marriage license perched right on top of the nightstand, framed, flanked by their wedding portrait. As she stepped closer, memories of Bradly's cozy moments with Shanna flooded her brain, her nails digging slowly into her palm. That license seared her eyes, like it was sneering at her gullibility. She never should've caved, never should've handed Bradly a second shot. It just went to show that people's hearts circled back for seconds. Disgust flickered in her eyes as she hauled the desk's computer chair over, the kind with wheels and a swivel, shaky at best. She climbed onto it, planting one foot on the bed for stability, teetering just enough to hold steady. Stella hiked up her pearl-white knee-length dress a bit and stretched upward slowly. Fingers extended to the max, but she was still a couple inches shy. She rose onto her tiptoes, straining, but no dice. Frowning from her perch, she scanned around and snagged a book from beside the cabinet. As she leaned down, footsteps suddenly echoed outside the door. Fast, but measured. A man's, for sure. Her pulse spiked. She clutched the table, scrambling to hop down, but, perfect timing, her other sleeve caught on the cabinet's edge. She tugged frantically to break free, but it was too late to descend. The door flew open out of nowhere. Stella went rigid, her knees giving way as she toppled backward off the chair. A quick yelp escaped her, but the expected crash never hit. A firm hand latched precisely onto her thigh, another banding around her waist, hauling her into a solid hold and planting her feet firmly on the floor. She slammed into a warm, toned chest, a crisp, grounding sandalwood aroma enveloping her, not Bradly's scent. Stella glanced up, nearly clipping the guy's chin. Milford let go right away, backing off a step to give her space. Her cheeks burned, the thigh he'd gripped feeling like it was on fire. Mortified and frozen, she stammered, "Th-thanks." Milford stayed composed, his eyes skimming her flushed face and the pinkened patch of skin on her thigh from his hold. His Adam's apple dipped subtly. "Didn't realize you were in here. My bad." Stella shook her head, even more flustered. She was the one imposing on him. Milford flicked a glance upward. "Need some help?" She looked too. Up top, the marriage license screamed for attention. Chapter 7 Don't Let Me Hate You Stella just came out with it. "I want to get the marriage license down." Milford hesitated for a beat, without probing why she needed it, and slid the chair out of the way. Tall and long-limbed, he barely had to tip up on his toes to snag it effortlessly. Milford skimmed the lettering on the license, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes before the faintest quirk tugged at his lips, almost undetectable. He passed it over to Stella. "Ah, I see." She missed the words, taking it with a soft murmur: "Thanks, Milford." Her palms were slick with sweat now, but holding the certificate still sent an icy shiver through her. Those bold letters were a brutal reminder. This whole marriage had been one big joke. From beginning to end, Bradly's grand performance of undying love had always had a third wheel in the shadows. Milford dropped his gaze. Towering over her, all he could make out was the neat swirl at the top of her head, round and oddly appealing. Those slim, pale hands gripped the certificate like a vise, completely bloodless. Milford asked offhandedly, "So, what's the marriage license for?" "Oh, I just want to bring it home and store it there," Stella shot back, pulling an excuse out of thin air. Milford's stare felt like it enveloped her, the heat of it almost scorching, though he kept his hands to himself. Then he casually adjusted his cufflinks and turned to go. Stella let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, sagging against the cool cabinet. Her thigh still tingled with warmth from his grip; she quickly smoothed her skirt down, tucked the license into her bag, and only left the room once everything looked undisturbed. Bradly was still out in the back garden, deep in conversation. Stella kept her face neutral, strolling over to stand at his side. A few relatives were chatting with him. "Hey, word is Milford actually got back a couple days ago, but only tipped us off today." Bradly looked taken aback. "I thought he was flying in today?" "Nope, sounds like he hit up some auction. I only heard bits and pieces, supposedly the other night at the Empire Auction House." "He must not have gone. I was there that evening too, and I didn't see him anywhere," Bradly said, frowning in confusion. Stella's eyelashes flickered subtly, but she played it cool. Out of nowhere, her mind jumped back to that enigmatic bidder in suite 217. She wondered, 'Could Milford be the mystery guest who got the bracelet for me?' She shoved the thought down as soon as it surfaced. They'd only crossed paths once, total strangers really, connected by the flimsiest in-law tie. No matter how you sliced it, Milford wouldn't stick his neck out for her. Just like Bradly said, he hadn't caught wind of anything, so it couldn't be Milford. Stella let it go. After some more mingling, the group started to break up. Bradly steered her over to bid farewell to Milford. "Mom, Milford, we're taking off. Let's set up a family dinner soon when things settle." Milford slouched back in his chair with effortless nonchalance and gave a nod. "I'm knee-deep in an acquisition, no hurry on the get-together. But you..." He lifted his head, his expression sharpening. "Keep your life on the straight and narrow. Don't veer off track." The edge of warning in his voice was crystal clear. Bradly had grown up overshadowed by Milford; he went rigid but brushed it off casually. "Come on, everything's good. My company's running smooth as ever. If you're skeptical, drop by anytime and pore over the financials—knock yourself out." "It's not just about the company," Milford said softly, eyes down as he savored a sip of coffee. Stella couldn't help stealing a glance at him, and in that instant, a ridiculous idea struck her. From what Bradly had mentioned, Milford was abroad most of the time but still had the inside scoop on everything back home. She wondered, 'Does he know about the shady stuff Bradly is up to on the sly?' "Milford, I hear you. I'll make sure to nurture my marriage with Stella, our whole life together." Bradly grinned, threading his fingers through Stella's. Milford's gaze lingered on their joined hands for a second before drifting away, sealed with a subtle nod. Stella had no desire for any more close contact with Bradly, so she subtly shook his hand free without thinking. A split second later, his disbelieving stare locked onto her face, and he tried to grab her again. She'd known her move would humiliate him in the moment, so she didn't bother saying goodbye to Milford. She just turned and walked out ahead. Once they slid into the car, Bradly shed his polite, deferential mask from earlier, reverting to his entitled rich-kid swagger. He tugged his tie loose, a flicker of annoyance pinching his brows. "Always playing the big-brother card to chew me out, same crap since we were little. "So what if he's crushing it overseas? I'm holding my own just fine back home. Who in Ostralver would even think about messing with me?" Bradly fished out a menthol cigarette on autopilot, ready to light up, but he caught himself after glancing at Stella and shoved it back. He said, "All these years, folks have been whispering, or saying it straight to my face, that my company's thriving because of his pull. Like he's behind every damn thing. "And you? You flat-out refused to let me hold your hand back there. Trying to make me look like an idiot in front of him?" His expression iced over, the edge in his voice impossible to miss. Stella's frown deepened as she took it in. Even without knowing Milford all that well, she understood that Bradly's cocky antics in Ostralver, brushing people off like they were nothing, had always been propped up by Milford's clout. She'd assumed the brothers were tight, but clearly Bradly's respect was just for show; underneath, his grudge against Milford simmered deep. She could overlook a lot, but with things the way they were now, there was zero point in him putting on that phony hand-holding act. Stella gripped her bag, the one with the marriage license inside, and couldn't bite her tongue. "We haven't held hands in forever. It feels off to me." The car went dead quiet. She was right. Their physical closeness had dwindled so much that even she couldn't pinpoint the last time. Bradly's brow creased, and he snapped the cigarette filter clean off between his fingers. "What was that?" Stella met his eyes steadily. "From here on out, let's skip the pointless touchy-feely stuff. It just doesn't sit right." She hadn't even finished when the brakes screeched harshly. The car lurched to a halt on the empty shoulder of the road. Stella almost smacked into the window from the force, her pulse hammering as she barked, "Are you out of your mind?" Bradly loomed over her, fingers digging into her chin, irritation boiling in his glare. "Stella, do you have any idea what you're saying?" The pinch stung like crazy, and the absurdity of it all hit her as she wrestled to shove him off. "Is it not true? When's the last time we even held hands. Can you remember?" Bradly's gaze turned stormy, like she'd struck a raw spot. "I bet you're hung up on Milford, just like that girl from the second branch. That's why you pulled away in front of him. You're trying to cut ties with me?" "Bradly! What the hell are you babbling about?" Anger surged through her as she pushed harder. "Don't you dare pin your gross history on me!" The way the family had orbited Milford like he was the sun had obviously gotten under his skin. The more she resisted, the darker his look grew. Abruptly, he leaned in and smashed his mouth against hers. Stella's eyes flew wide, her head whipping aside to evade as she hammered at his shoulders with everything she had. He'd locked lips with Shanna god knows how often. The thought turned her stomach, so she clamped down and bit him hard. Bradly yelped in pain, jerking back as the fog cleared and he clocked what he'd just done, regret flashing across his face. Blood dotted his lip, but he brushed it off, lunging to wrap her in his arms. "I'm sorry, Stella, baby, I'm so sorry. I screwed up; it was a stupid impulse..." Drained of energy, Stella sagged into the passenger seat, letting him hold her while a barren wave of emptiness and revulsion washed over her. The hug she'd once melted into now repulsed her to her core. "Get off me." Her voice came out rough and scratchy. "Bradly, don't push me to hating you."
Chapter 1 Don't Want Him Anymore "I'm sorry, ma'am." On the other end of the line, the insurance customer service rep said coolly, "After checking our records, the car owner, Mr. Woodard, is indeed married, but the spouse listed here isn't you." Stella Daniels had gotten into a car accident on her way to the Woodard Group headquarters. She couldn't get through to Bradly Woodard on his phone, so she had no choice but to call the insurance company. The car was registered in Bradly's name, but as his wife, she should be able to process the claim too. "When Mr. Woodard picked up the car, he came with his wife and provided the original marriage license. Her last name is Erickson, and her full name is Shanna Erickson," the rep said. It hit Stella like a slap in the face. Dizziness washed over her in waves, leaving her whole body shaking uncontrollably. She and Bradly had been childhood sweethearts. Their families were old friends, and everyone in Ostralver's high society knew how clingy he was with her. Bradly couldn't stand being apart from her even for a single day. Three years ago, when Stella headed abroad for her studies, Bradly had the plane stopped just for her. During her three years in Ensland, he expanded his business overseas to make it easier to look after her. Sixteen thousand miles apart, he'd still fly across the ocean every week to see her. The year she came down with a severe lung illness and nearly didn't pull through, she spent a week in intensive care. Bradly ignored the infection risks and stayed right by her side, sliding a ring onto her finger. He said, "If anything happens to you, I'll go with you. We'll be husband and wife in the next life too." For Bradly's sake, she turned down her mentor's offer to stay on in the lab and headed back home. Brimming with excitement, she went to find him, planning to surprise him. But when she pushed open the door to the CEO's office, she saw a slender, pretty woman straddling his lap. The woman's innocent face tilted upward, her voice whiny and aggrieved. "Mr. Woodard, what happens to me now that Stella is back?" Bradly sat in his executive chair, his tall frame looming over her. A flash of ruthlessness crossed his stern features. "You? You're just her stand-in. Don't forget your place." He lifted his hand, pinching her delicate chin with a sneer. "Barely a three-out-of-ten resemblance, and you think you can compare to her?" Stella was still clutching the gift she'd prepared for him. With a loud "bang," it dropped to the floor, finally breaking the scene in the office. Bradly's face drained of color as he shoved the woman off and jumped to his feet. That woman was Shanna. After Stella caught them in the act, Bradly fired Shanna on the spot and pulled out all the stops to win her back. Bradly, the arrogant prince of Ostralver's elite circles, humbled himself to the dust before her, begging her to give him another chance. Any project she set her sights on, he'd drop without a second thought. He stood in the pouring rain outside her building for over a week, just for a glimpse of her. He said, "Stella, I'm not asking you to forgive me. At least let me explain. "I only ever saw Shanna as your replacement. You've been gone abroad for so long; I missed you terribly. I swear, I just kept her around. Nothing more ever happened between us. "That time you walked in, I'd had too much to drink, and she deliberately tempted me. I lost control for a moment... "I've already let her go, and she won't show up in our lives again. Stella, please, come back to me." Back then, Stella couldn't stand even the slightest betrayal. She insisted on breaking off the engagement. Until that one incident. She was kidnapped by a business rival. The kidnappers reneged on the deal, tied her up in an abandoned factory, and set the place ablaze. Bradly charged into the flames without a second thought to rescue her, shielding her from a collapsing steel beam. He ended up gravely injured, confined to bed for nearly six months. By risking his life, Bradly finally melted her resolve. Once he was out of the hospital, she accepted his proposal, and they threw a lavish wedding. In the two years since they tied the knot, he'd treated her just as devotedly as ever, with zero scandals. He even imposed a strict curfew on himself, heading home right on time every day. Even on out-of-town business trips, he'd video call her constantly. His partners would tease him about being henpecked. He never denied it. Instead, he'd grin proudly and say, "A real man takes care of his family." Memories rushed through Stella's mind like a whirlwind, every past moment flashing by in a blur. Her legs buckled, and she dropped to her knees, burying her face in her hands. She couldn't figure out which Bradly was the real one anymore. A bitter, mocking gleam sparked in her eyes. She thought, 'How absurd.' She'd been his wife for two years, and only now was she learning that even their marriage license had been a sham. Stella scrubbed her face hard, her bangs already soaked with cold sweat. She ignored the other driver's furious yelling and calmly dialed the police. They showed up fast. After finishing her statement, Stella left the station under a sky that had gone completely dark. Her phone lit up with several missed calls from Bradly. When she hadn't answered, he'd sent texts instead. Bradly: [Babe, I was tied up in a key meeting this afternoon. Signal jammers were on, so I missed your call. You okay?] Bradly: [I've got a client dinner tonight, so I'll be late getting home. I double-checked: no women involved, so no need to worry.] Bradly: [Head to bed early. Don't wait up. Love you.] Stella stared at the screen, a sharp wave of irony twisting in her gut. Bradly didn't stagger in until the wee hours. He reeked of alcohol, which almost, but not quite, masked the subtle whiff of perfume on him. "Honey..." He could barely keep his balance, stumbling over to wrap his arms around her through the blanket. "I missed you so damn much..." Stella didn't say a word. Only once he was dead to the world did she sit up quietly and unlock his phone with his fingerprint. The thing was squeaky clean, no suspicious traces at all. His contacts were mostly buddies and business folks, with hers pinned at the top as "Darling Wife." Flawlessly tidy, just like their sham of a marriage. Stella hooked the phone up to her computer, and it didn't take long to uncover his second WhatsApp account. She signed in, and right away, messages popped up from a profile with a cute pink kitten avatar, labeled "Baby." Shanna: [Bradly, thanks for tonight. Without you, I wouldn't have known what to do.] Shanna: [I've always thought meeting you was the luckiest thing that's ever happened to me. I won't intrude on your life. As long as you swing by to see me once in a while, that's enough to make me happy.] Stella scrolled back through the history. She'd suspected as much, but seeing it all laid out still hit her like a punch to the chest, leaving her breathless. They chatted nearly every day. Shanna never missed a good morning message, and Bradly's replies had shifted over time, from total silence at first, to sporadic responses, and now to answering every single one. A chill spread through her. Stella clutched the phone tighter, knowing she should quit while she was ahead but unable to stop herself from digging deeper. Shanna: [Bradly, sorry, I had a few drinks and lost it for a bit. Doc says I'm okay now, so don't stress.] Shanna: [Mrs. Woodard's birthday bash is important. Go enjoy it with her. I'll be fine.] Stella squeezed her eyes shut as the memory came rushing back. Her birthday. Bradly had spent over a month planning it down to the last detail, but that day, he was totally distracted. Hell, he almost cut his own hand while slicing the cake. When she'd asked what was up, he'd brushed it off as work drama, told her not to worry, then pulled her into a soft embrace and encouraged her to blow out the candles and make a wish. It all made sense now, as she stared at this chat log. That same day, Shanna had tried to kill herself by slashing her wrists and ended up in the ER. A sour bitterness flooded her chest like a rising tide. In those brief seconds when she'd closed her eyes to wish, she wondered, 'Was he agonizing over Shanna in the hospital, or picturing endless years together with her?' Stella knew she didn't need an answer to that anymore. She gently placed the phone back and looked down at Bradly, fast asleep beside her. She'd known him since she was four, and for the twenty years that followed, she'd truly believed his love was hers alone, irreplaceable. But now she saw it for what it was: just cheap free samples at a store, handed out to anyone who walked by. If that was all it amounted to, she was done with it. Chapter 2 Bid Against Her The next day, Stella woke to find Bradly busy in the kitchen, his broad shoulders narrowing to a slim waist, his tall, lean build moving with purpose. The sight hit her hard, a dull ache tightening in her chest. Bradly had learned to cook entirely for her sake. She still remembered that turbulent period when the Woodard Group was in crisis. His rivals had targeted her, paying off a servant to poison her food. She'd been unconscious for three full days. When she finally woke, Bradly was there, his eyes red-rimmed and veined with exhaustion, gripping her hand like a lifeline. The instant she stirred, the imposing Bradly crumbled forward, enveloping her in a hug as scalding tears fell onto her skin. From then on, Bradly threw himself into cooking lessons, taking charge of all her meals. In less than a month, he'd gone from a spoiled elite who couldn't distinguish spices to turning out dishes worthy of a Michelin chef. Just then, his phone rang. Stella glanced at it but made no move to answer. Bradly darted out of the kitchen, apron still on, grabbing the phone with a barely concealed flash of anxiety. Stella pretended not to notice and went to wash up. When she came back, the table was set with breakfast, and he was slipping into his suit jacket from the coat rack. Seeing her, he said gently, "There's an emergency at work. I have to run. Sorry I can't join you for breakfast." Stella murmured, "Sure, work comes first." He was clearly in a hurry, because he didn't pick up on the new edge of cool distance in her tone and rushed out. She stared blankly after him until he was gone, then dumped the entire spread into the trash. Then she picked up her phone and dialed a number. "That offer you made before? I'm on board." The person on the other end erupted in delight, chattering away before shifting to broken Andosa Language. "Stella, why the sudden change of heart? I've bugged you about this so many times, and you always said you were married now and focusing on family." A mocking glint flickered in Stella's eyes. She thought, 'Married? This so-called marriage has been dead on arrival.' The caller was her former mentor from her overseas studies. He'd reached out lately, hoping she'd join his new team and spearhead a major project. At the time, she'd kept saying no out of loyalty to Bradly. Now, she only wished she'd seen through the absurd joke of their marriage earlier. After the call, she contacted immigration to schedule a passport renewal. It would take about a week. But before heading out, she had one loose end to tie up. That evening, Stella showed up at a private auction at the Cloud Hotel. She was after one of her mother's keepsakes. Her mom had died when she was eight, and soon after, the Daniels family had liquidated her wedding gift. Stella had been hunting down the items ever since. Over the years, she'd only reclaimed a few. Tonight's auction featured a bracelet from that collection, one her mother had picked up on a trip to Ijance. It was utterly unique, irreplaceable. Whatever it took, she was getting it back. Stella settled into her seat just as the auction was about to start. She was flipping through the catalog when Bradly's voice floated over. "Didn't I already pick out that royal blue sapphire set for you? Not good enough?" His voice carried that familiar tenderness. Shanna linked her arm with his, pouting playfully. "Your taste sucks! I want to pick my own birthday gift." Stella watched them quietly until Bradly threaded through the guests and their gazes collided by chance. The color drained from his face. On pure reflex, he jerked his arm away from Shanna. "Stella." He strode over quickly. "I tried calling you a few times, but you didn't answer. Were you planning to surprise me?" Even though he tried to play it cool, she could still catch that subtle hint of panic in his expression. Stella didn't bother calling him on it, replying evenly, "My phone was on silent. I didn't hear it." Bradly visibly relaxed, casually taking her hand in his with a look of concern. "Your hands are like ice. Didn't I warn you about the cold snap today? You're always putting style over staying warm. If you catch a chill, you know it'll just kill me." As he talked, he signaled a server for a blanket and draped it snugly around her shoulders. Stella kept a straight face, brushing him off as she looked past him to Shanna, who lingered behind with a scowl. Shanna nibbled her lip, then defiantly dropped into the seat next to Bradly, her gaze simmering with irritation. Bradly leaned closer, dropping his voice to explain, "We just wrapped up a major project at the company, and Shanna pulled her weight big time. Her birthday's around the corner, so I thought I'd treat her to something as a project bonus." He eyed her anxiously. "Stella, you're not mad, right?" Shanna piped up in a soft, vulnerable tone. "Mrs. Woodard, if this upsets you, I'll just go. I don't want to get in the way of you and Mr. Woodard." Stella's mouth quirked into a smile that never touched her eyes. "We're married. A little thing like this? Of course it doesn't bother me." The auction got underway shortly after. Bradly treated Shanna like she was invisible, focusing entirely on Stella. He paged through the catalog, throwing in bids left and right. "Babe, this would look amazing on you." He grinned, tenderly brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his tone warm and intimate. "You'd be gorgeous in it." Stella averted her eyes, but out of the corner of her vision, she saw Shanna discreetly clutching the edge of Bradly's jacket in the dim light. Their gazes locked for a split second in a shared, lingering look. She masked the derision in her own eyes, struck by how absurd it all was. Bradly seemed totally at ease juggling both women, convinced he was keeping things balanced, one with the official status, the other with his undivided public attention. She thought, 'What could be fairer than that?' But Stella had never been interested in that kind of equilibrium. Her world extended far beyond romance. Bradly? He was just a small detour on her path, a misstep she'd own up to. And now, it was time to set things right. "Next up: a string of bracelet. Fine-grained texture, deep aroma that lingers. Starting bid at 170,000 dollars, with increments of at least 20,000 dollars!" The auctioneer's pumped-up voice echoed through the room. Finally, Stella's main target for the evening. Bids flew in fast, the screen flickering with updates as the auctioneer called out, "Number 17 lady at 200,000 dollars! Number 9 gentleman ups it to 260,000 dollars! Going higher?" Once the initial frenzy tapered off, Stella lifted her paddle. "500,000 dollars." She'd doubled the current bid in one go. It was a hefty amount. Sure, the bracelet was top-notch, but it wasn't the auction's highlight. The room went quiet after her call; no one countered. "Fantastic! Number 11 lady at 500,000 dollars! "500,000 dollars once! 500,000 dollars twice!" The auctioneer hoisted his gavel, poised to bring it down. "No more bids? Then 500,000 dollars—" "520,000 dollars," A gentle, hesitant voice interrupted. Shanna shrank against Bradly's side, paddle in hand, murmuring timidly to him, "Is this where I put in the amount?" Chapter 3 You're Dirty Stella frowned and raised her bid. "540,000 dollars." But Shanna was right behind her, countering with, "560,000 dollars." How annoyingly precise, each time, she stuck to the bare minimum, slapping on just 20,000 dollars more than Stella's offer. Shanna turned toward her, her voice dripping with plea. "Stella, you've got plenty of jewelry already. Please, let me have this one. I adore it. "I'm not like you, born with money, everything handed to you on a silver platter. You snap your fingers and get whatever you want. If it goes any higher, I really won't be able to keep up." Stella didn't bother looking at her, just quirking her lips in a thin smile. "Isn't Mr. Woodard covering the cost for you? What are you stressing about?" Shanna's face went a shade paler, but she answered in that soft, demure tone, "Even so, Mr. Woodard earns his money the hard way. If I can save him a bit, I ought to." She was the epitome of considerate and caring. After several more back-and-forth bids, the bracelet's price had soared to 700,000 dollars. Stella let out a chilly scoff and was opening her mouth to up the ante when Bradly beat her to it. He said, "Babe, why don't we just let Shanna take this bracelet?" Stella's fingers curled into a tight fist, her nails biting into her palm. She lifted her gaze, any lingering warmth in her eyes turning to ice. "What did you just say?" Bradly let out a resigned sigh, giving her hand a comforting pat as he murmured gently, "Babe, I already told Shanna she'd get a gift tonight, and she's got her heart set on this one. No need to compete with her. "Plus, I've already snagged you a handful of other pieces. Isn't that plenty?" He said it all lightly, teasingly, as if it were nothing more than a harmless quip. Stella shut her eyes, a nameless sourness creeping along her nerves, coiling around her heart until it felt like she couldn't draw a breath. Given Shanna's modest background, 700,000 dollars was way out of her league. She wouldn't even make the guest list here on her own. The only reason she was in that seat, trading bids blow for blow, was Bradly's backing. His pampering had delivered her straight into Stella's path. Stella whispered, "What if I refuse to back down?" She hoisted her paddle once more, her voice echoing through the room. "1 million dollars." A hush blanketed the hall. The auctioneer clearly picked up on the drama, his delivery faltering. "Number eleven at 1 million dollars. Do I hear higher?" Shanna's eyes welled up, on the verge of tears, as she cast a helpless look at Bradly before tacking on another fifty thousand. "1 million 20 thousand dollars." Stella's features hardened to frost, and she was poised to fire back when the manager bustled over, bending close to murmur, "Mrs. Woodard, apologies. We ran a credit verification on your account, and it's frozen. Got another one we can use?" The words slammed into her like a bolt from the blue, ringing in her ears. She snapped her head toward Bradly, but he'd already looked away. An icy numbness spread through her arms and legs. She though,t 'Of course, it has to be him.' Her primary account was linked with his; besides her, only he could authorize a freeze on her cards. Triumph flickered in Shanna's eyes as she added with a pointed edge, "Well, in that case, Mrs. Woodard, maybe it's time to step aside. You've got so much already. Can't you let me have this one little thing?" Up on stage, the auction rolled on, the display frozen on Shanna's latest bid: 1 million 20 thousand dollars. Shanna could hardly hide her glee, chirping sweetly, "Go on, call it!" But the words had barely left her lips when someone announced he would bid for the lot at any costs right in the second-floor VIP suite. After a momentary silence, the room burst into chaos. "He's declared absolute intent!" Even the auctioneer's expression changed. He'd been in the game for over a decade, but this was his first encounter with such a scenario. He hurriedly called out, "Lot number six goes to the gentleman in box 217, regardless of how high the price goes." Anyone up in those second-floor VIP suites was either swimming in money or held serious sway in Ostralver's upper crust. Stella glanced upward toward the source of the voice, catching only a vague outline behind the draped curtains. Even when she couldn't see his face, the man's crossed-legged posture radiated an unspoken dominance that pressed down on the room. The auctioneer slammed his gavel down with finality, proclaiming, "Congratulations to our esteemed guest in box 217 on winning lot number six! You're now upgraded to black gold status!" Across all of Ostralver's elite scene, fewer than a handful had ever hit black gold level at these events. Stella wondered, 'Just who is this mystery man?' Stella loosened her clenched fist slightly, torn between relief that her mother's heirloom hadn't landed in Shanna's clutches and anxiety over reclaiming it from this unknown figure. No matter what, she'd stop at nothing, pay any price, to bring her mother's possession home. She rose to her feet, intent on marching over to box 217 for a chat, when the attendant who'd just ducked inside reappeared, tray in hand with the bracelet. "What's this? The bidder in 217 having second thoughts?" "Auctions don't do take-backs." "Probably short on funds. I called it. No one's done this here before." As the murmurs swirled, the attendant headed straight for Stella, dipping into a courteous bow with a warm smile. She said, "Mrs. Woodard, the gentleman in box 217 requests that I deliver the bracelet to you as a gift. He wishes for you to follow your true path and for all to unfold as it should." The place erupted in gossip once more, with guests shooting glances her way, some envious, others skeptical, many flat-out stunned. "Isn't that Mrs. Woodard? What's her deal with the upstairs guy?" "Likely just buttering up Mr. Woodard." "Nah, I don't buy it. Out of all the goodies tonight, why zero in on those beads for Mrs. Woodard? Sounds like she's got a real connection there." The buzz filtered through, and Bradly's face turned stone-cold. In a tight, edged voice, he demanded, "Stella, what's the story with you and whoever's in box 217?" Stella held his piercing stare and said flatly, "I have no idea who he is." "!" Bradly jumped up, clamping down on her wrist like a vice. Her soft, fair skin reddened almost instantly under the pressure. Stella winced sharply, jerking her arm back on reflex. "Bradly, have you lost your mind? Haven't you stirred up enough drama for one day?" But he barreled on, blind to her fury, his reddened eyes locked on her as if he could swallow her up. "What's really between you two? "Stella, through all our married years, I've bent over backward for you. Anything you desired, I served it up without question. Why would you betray me like this?" In his mind, it was already a done deal: she was entangled in something shady with the man above. If the guy was angling for a favor from him, Bradly would've recognized him right away. People in Ostralver didn't beat around the bush when they needed something from him. They came direct. The jab landed raw and direct. Bradly blinked, frozen for a beat as a flicker of alarm shot through his eyes. Chapter 4 Don't Know You'd Come Bradly said, "I'm sorry, Stella. I didn't mean it like that. I had no right getting jealous over you and some stranger. It's all on me." Bradly's eyes reddened. "But honestly, there's nothing going on between Shanna and me. I just brought her along as a thank-you. Can you let this slide?" Seeing his cue, Shanna ducked her head meekly, her voice catching. "That's right, Mrs. Woodard. I've been bending over backward to keep my distance from Mr. Woodard so you wouldn't get the wrong impression. "I'm not asking for the world, just a decent birthday gift. I didn't grow up with your advantages; you've had everything handed to you and even snagged a catch like Mr. Woodard. Can't I at least pick out something for myself?" "Just a gift, huh?" Stella closed in on her, one step at a time. "Ms. Erickson, I've never given a damn about this 'gift' you're going on about. What gets under my skin is you, a Woodard Group employee, crossing lines you have no business crossing." As they drew closer, Bradly instinctively stepped in front of Shanna, his voice soft and coaxing. "Stella, if it's bugging you this much, I'll transfer her to a branch office once the auction's over. "But for now, cut me some slack. Let Shanna have the bracelet. When we get home, name your price on anything, and it's yours." Shanna bobbed her head in agreement, tears glistening on her lashes as she pleaded, "Stella, I really adore this bracelet. You've got it all already. Why go after the one thing I want? "Or is this just because you hate my guts and can't resist taking shots at me?" "What makes you think I'd ever like you?" Stella let out a cold snort. "This belonged to me from the start. Why the hell would I give it up?" She took the bracelet from the attendant with casual ease, her smile sharp but empty. "Ms. Erickson, know your place." Her refusal to budge finally wore through Bradly's patience, erasing every bit of softness from his face. "Stella, do you have to humiliate me like this in front of everyone? Where does that leave my dignity? "It's just a crappy old bracelet. Am I really worth less to you than some trinket?" He said it with such conviction, as if he'd wiped from his memory the solemn vow he'd made when proposing: that he'd hunt down every single one of her mother's sold-off keepsakes, no matter what. Stella's hand flew up, delivering a resounding slap across his cheek. The sharp crack rang out, pulling shocked stares from every corner of the room. Bradly's head snapped sideways, his face livid as he fixed her with a glare, his words hissing through clenched teeth. "Stella, drop the drama already. Have I pampered you too much these days, turning you into this unreasonable nightmare?" Stella reined in her temper, keeping her tone even. "Bradly, you better not live to regret today." Without another word, she turned and walked out, not sparing a backward glance. As her figure receded, Shanna gently touched the angry red mark on Bradly's cheek, her voice full of worry. "Mr. Woodard, are you okay? "Stella's got no boundaries. How could she hit you with all these people watching?" Bradly swatted her hand aside, his nails digging into his palm as he stared after her retreating path. "I've spoiled her rotten, letting her forget that everything she has comes from me." Shanna peeked at his changing expression, testing the waters. "Mr. Woodard, about the bracelet..." Bradly rubbed his throbbing cheek, pulled a bank card from his pocket, and handed it over. "1.7 million dollars on there. Buy whatever catches your eye." Box 217, Stella rapped on the door, eager to thank the mystery bidder face-to-face. Silence. She caught a server walking by. "Excuse me, any idea where the gentleman from this box headed?" "He slipped out right after nabbing the last item," the server said. Disappointment flashed in her eyes, but Stella pressed on, "Do you know who he was?" The server gave her a regretful smile. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard, we're not allowed to spill on our VIPs. Don't make this harder for us." Catching herself, Stella moved out of the way. "Thanks all the same." By the time she made it home from the auction, an hour had ticked by. Stella went straight up to the study, fired up the computer, and dove into the assets registered under her and Bradly's names. After tallying up the numbers, she snatched her phone, found lawyer Rubin Cobb's contact, and hit dial. She said, "I've sorted out the asset division documents for me and Bradly and sent them over. I need you to handle the property split by tomorrow." Rubin quickly received the files and nodded respectfully. "Of course, Mrs. Woodard. I'll get right on it." Stella stared intently at her computer screen, her grip tightening on the mouse. "If Bradly's committed bigamy, how should our assets be divided?" "Generally, any property the bigamous party gained through the bigamy can be claimed back by the other spouse," Rubin replied matter-of-factly. Half of Bradly's current wealth had come from Stella's investments to support his career early on. Her expression darkened, and she promptly forwarded the marriage license between him and Shanna. "Rubin, please use every legal avenue to recover my half of the assets." After hanging up, Stella slumped back in her chair, utterly drained physically and emotionally. She closed her eyes slowly, but sleep was nowhere in sight. Bradly would never agree to a divorce. Until she had everything locked down, she couldn't let on that anything was amiss. Just then, the study door was kicked open from the outside. Bradly flung his jacket onto the desk and yanked Stella up from her seat in front of the computer. "Do you realize that because of your little outburst, I've become a laughingstock in our circles? "What exactly do you want? Are you still obsessing over what happened back then?" Stella opened her eyes slowly, her gaze settling calmly on Bradly, but she remained silent. A fire raged in Bradly's chest, intensifying by the second, and he couldn't hold back his fury any longer. "Since we got married, have I ever done anything to wrong you? I come home right on time every night after work, I always fill you in on any business dinners, and if there's even a hint of a woman involved, I skip them entirely! I've bent over backward, and it's still not good enough for you?" He remembered every detail crystal clear. In his mind, these were the sacrifices he'd made to marry her. Stella suddenly found the whole thing absurd. She couldn't bear to look at him anymore, so she stood up and walked straight out of the study without a backward glance. Behind her, Bradly's voice echoed heavily. "Stella, no matter what you think, my conscience is clear." It felt like Stella's heart had been shattered into icy fragments, a sharp, bitter pain surging through her. Her mind buzzed, and for a moment, all she could hear was that phrase repeating over and over. She thought, 'My conscience is clear? So, in his eyes, everything he's done is perfectly justifiable.' The next morning, when Stella woke up, Bradly was already gone. On the table sat the breakfast he'd prepared, tailored exactly to her tastes. Stella pressed her lips together, her feelings a complicated tangle. They'd ended things on a sour note last night, yet Bradly had still made her breakfast this morning. But this was the same man who'd lied to her for years. No matter what, it was time to end things with Bradly. She didn't touch the food and headed straight to the office. These past few years, she'd stayed out of Bradly's business dealings. A lot of her old financial records were outdated now, and she needed the latest reports. The secretary looked startled when she saw her, then managed to say, "Mrs. Woodard, are you here to see Mr. Woodard?" "No." Stella replied evenly. "Send the finance manager in to see me." Her shares were second only to Bradly's, giving her full access to every aspect of the company. The secretary hesitated briefly before nodding. Stella noticed her immediately turning to make a phone call, probably alerting Bradly. Stella didn't intervene; let her. She settled into the finance office, sipping her coffee absentmindedly while flipping through magazines on the shelf. Most were glossy entertainment rags, mixed in with novels and comics. Stella frowned, only now picking up on the details: the desk was covered in a pink plaid mat, cluttered with adorable plush toys. The standout pair was a set of couple dolls, their outfits emblazoned with the letters W and E. It hit Stella suddenly what that meant, and just then, the door behind her swung open. Shanna rushed in. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard." She was clutching a cup of coffee as she apologized. "I had no idea you'd drop by like this..." Chapter 5 All For Milford Stella arched an eyebrow as she looked her over. "So you're the finance manager?" Shanna nodded with a quick smile. "That's me. If you need anything at all, just say the word. Bradly, well, Mr. Woodard is tied up in a meeting right now. But don't worry, I'll make sure to relay whatever message you have." Stella let out a soft laugh. "No need for that." She regarded Shanna with clear curiosity. "I'm not looking for Bradly. I'm here to see you." Shanna's smile faltered for a moment before she recovered, her tone turning gentle. "Mrs. Woodard, I get that you're still bothered by what went down at the auction last night, but there's no reason to be so worked up about my connection to Mr. Woodard. After all..." She raised her hand, the elegant diamond ring on her finger glinting under the light, perfectly complementing her bashful grin. "I'm already married, and things are great between me and my husband." Stella's eyes locked on the ring, her breath hitching just for an instant. It was ridiculous. In this whole messed-up situation, she was the one playing the role of the mistress. The ring was an exact match for the one Bradly had given her during his proposal. But within seconds, Stella averted her gaze. "It's a lovely ring, but you're mistaken." She spoke unhurriedly, "I'm just here to grab the latest financial report from you. That's all." Stella caught the sour shift in Shanna's expression and smiled to herself. "Seems like you're the one on edge here, Ms. Erickson." Shanna's face transformed completely, that smug spark in her eyes snuffed out. She bit her lip, unable to find words for a long beat. Stella watched her with unruffled poise. "Do I need to repeat my request, Ms. Erickson?" The words had barely left her mouth when Bradly burst in, his expression clouding over at the sight. "Stella, wasn't the scene from last night enough?" His voice was laced with ice. "How long are you planning to drag this out? I've told you already. There's nothing going on between me and Shanna. If you don't believe me..." Stella interrupted him mid-sentence, "Oh, I believe you. Absolutely." A faint smirk tugged at her lips, though her eyes remained frosty as they settled on Shanna. "After all, Ms. Erickson's already married. She just mentioned it herself." The statement landed like a bomb. Shanna's face drained of color, and Bradly's followed suit. He shot her a withering glare. Tears sprang to Shanna's eyes in an instant. Stella had no interest in watching the drama unfold any further. She said evenly, "I'm here for this year's financials. I hold forty percent of the company. Surely I can access that, right?" Bradly seemed to snap back to reality, nodding hastily. "Of course you can." He barked orders at the secretary to fetch it immediately, all the while stealing wary glances at her face. Once he confirmed she wasn't giving anything away, he exhaled almost imperceptibly in relief. He said, "Stella, what's with the sudden interest? You've never bothered with company matters before." Stella answered coolly, "After the account freeze last night, I decided it's smarter to set up a separate one." Bradly's expression froze again. "Stella..." The secretary returned promptly with the report. Stella brushed Bradly aside, skimmed through it quickly, and was heading for the door when he caught her by the wrist. He said, "Stella, about the family dinner tonight, are you coming home with me?" His tone was pleading, like he needed her answer to reassure himself that she hadn't caught on to anything fishy. Stella didn't look back, just replying calmly, "Sure." Bradly's face lit up. "Great, I'll swing by after work to pick you up." Stella dropped her gaze, masking the cool detachment in her eyes. She'd only agreed to head back to the family estate for one specific reason. The marriage license from when she and Bradly had tied the knot was a phony, but he'd made a whole production out of stashing it away at the house, claiming it had to be kept secure. Nothing could serve as stronger proof. Once she got her hands on it, his bigamy would be ironclad. Stella didn't bother waiting for Bradly; she hailed a cab and got there ahead of time. She'd figured it was just a standard family gathering, but she was caught off guard by the full turnout. Bradly's parents, fresh from their overseas vacation last week, were back, and even the distant relatives from the Woodard family's side branches had shown up en masse. "Stella, dear." As she walked in, Nadine Woodard peered over her shoulder. "Bradly didn't come with you?" Stella answered evenly, "He'll be along shortly." Nadine clicked her tongue, her irritation obvious. "On an important occasion like this, letting someone from outside the family arrive solo, what's got into him?" Stella's brow furrowed just a touch. She and Bradly had been engaged since childhood, but after her mother's passing, the Daniels family's status had tanked while the Woodard family kept climbing. That was when Nadine started pushing to scrap the arrangement, and she'd mentioned it more than a few times. But Chuck Woodard was upright and principled, flat-out refusing to play the social-climbing game. With Bradly dead set on marrying her and no one else, Nadine had reluctantly given in, though she made her resentment clear. Even after the marriage, she never passed up an opportunity to give Stella the cold shoulder. She was about to add something else when the butler rushed in and murmured, "He's here." Nadine promptly dropped the subject with Stella and jumped to her feet, the extended family hustling out right behind her to welcome the arrivals. The level of pomp surprised Stella. The Woodard family was already at the top of Ostralver's social elite. For them to pull out all the stops like this... Standing at the edge of the group, Stella glanced up and saw a black Maybach rolling up to the front of the estate. Someone hurried forward to open the door respectfully, and a tall, imposing figure stepped out unhurriedly. The man wore a sleek black suit, his chiseled features sharp, eyes as midnight, radiating a fierce intensity. Every gesture exuded a natural poise and authority that made it tough to hold his stare. The crowd swarmed forward in a rush, but he stayed cool and detached the whole time, his stunningly handsome face as impassive as carved ice, showing zero emotion. Then, as if picking up on something, he looked up toward Stella. Their eyes locked unexpectedly, sending her heart pounding. It was Milford Woodard, Bradly's brother. He'd returned to the country. Though they were brothers in name, Milford wasn't all that tight with the family. He'd headed overseas young and had spent years growing the business abroad. His father Edward Woodard was a total lightweight, good only at spending cash, not earning it. His grandpa Chuck had the smarts and drive, but age was catching up, leaving him unable to manage it all. Real power over the Woodard family had shifted to Milford ages ago. Stella let out a quiet breath. She thought, 'That explains the big crowd today. They've all turned out for Milford.' Chapter 6 Need Help? Stella lingered in the corner of the living room, watching the relatives descend like a swarm of locusts, all scrambling to surround Milford. Bradly stood next to Nadine, flashing a polished smile as he greeted, "Hey, Milford." The uncles who'd been buttering up Bradly just a minute ago quickly switched gears, beaming with over-the-top enthusiasm as they stepped up to say hello. "Milford, what prompted the sudden return?" "Milford, I hear you're in the middle of acquiring a domestic company? You're just getting more impressive by the day." "Come on inside, take a seat. We've got some top-shelf coffee." Bradly caught the stark contrast in the uncles' warmth, his smile fading briefly before he pulled it together and led the way forward. Stella quietly eyed the tall, strikingly handsome Milford striding into the living room like the star of the show, instinctively edging back a step. Now fully pushed to the fringes of the crowd, she shifted aside to let the trailing group pass, doing everything she could to blend into the wallpaper. Milford approached steadily. Unlike Bradly's flashy, outgoing vibe, he had a more brooding, aloof kind of handsomeness, like a pine tree blanketed in snow, regal and intimidating. He acknowledged the flattery around him with simple nods, his eyes scanning the room casually, subtly taking stock of everyone there. Until his gaze swept over Stella again, and he came to an abrupt halt. He paused, causing Bradly to stop too. "Something wrong, Milford?" Milford didn't respond, his steady gaze fixed on Stella. It was only a look, but it jolted her to her core. She felt an odd sense of being claimed, uninvited. Yet she'd barely crossed paths with Milford before. Bradly and the others traced his stare, his eyebrow quirking up. "Stella, come say hi to Big Milford." Stella started to step forward, but Milford beat her to it, walking straight toward her. Bradly and the rest exchanged surprised glances. So far, everyone had been approaching Milford. He hadn't initiated with a soul. Milford's deep eyes gave nothing away. "Stella?" Her breath hitched, like a faint breeze had brushed her ear. She hadn't anticipated him coming over to chat. It had been years, and they'd only met once or twice, but he still remembered her. Stella nodded. "Milford, it's been ages—" Before she could finish, Milford held out his hand. The move was so casual, so natural. Out of pure reflex and politeness, Stella extended hers, their palms connecting. In that brief clasp, she felt him squeeze gently, his thumb settling on her fingers and grazing them with a warm intensity. Milford released after just a second. Suddenly, Bradly sidled up, drawing Stella into his side with an arm around her waist, lacing his fingers through her left hand. He said, "Milford, how long are you in town this time? Stella and I can take you out to dinner one of these days." Milford took in their cozy pose, his glance dropping to their intertwined hands. "About a month." The words had barely left his mouth when Chuck came down the stairs, leaning on the butler for support. Milford headed over to talk with him. Not long after, the kitchen called that the party was ready. Stella trailed Bradly to their seats on the left side of the main table. Everyone filed in and sat. As the eldest branch, the two Woodard brothers took priority. Chuck claimed the head of the main table, with Nadine and Milford next in line. Stella and Bradly fell further down the order, landing her right across from Milford on the diagonal. The family feast got underway, with everyone firing questions at Milford about what he'd been up to lately. Stella kept her head down, nibbling at her food while catching bits of the conversation. Zrester bigwig, major stakeholder in Wonder Group, founder of that financial exchange and the smart transportation AI... Milford's credentials were endless and mind-blowing. She thought back to that Zrester party invite list she'd snagged years ago. Milford was third from the top, while she languished at the bottom. In all these years, she'd had next to no interaction with him. Right after the wedding, this mysterious Milford had only shown up once. He dropped off a gift and vanished. In just a handful of years, Milford had climbed to the pinnacle of Zrester's power players. His talent was obvious. Before long, the family party wound down, and folks scattered to grab desserts. Still hung up on that marriage license, Stella excused herself to head upstairs for a coat change. Bradly was itching to chat with Milford, his gaze fixed that way as he muttered distractedly, "Yeah, go on up." Stella wasted no time hustling upstairs. With the crowd milling about downstairs, she slipped to the third floor of the villa and nudged open Bradly's bedroom door. There it was: the glaring marriage license perched right on top of the nightstand, framed, flanked by their wedding portrait. As she stepped closer, memories of Bradly's cozy moments with Shanna flooded her brain, her nails digging slowly into her palm. That license seared her eyes, like it was sneering at her gullibility. She never should've caved, never should've handed Bradly a second shot. It just went to show that people's hearts circled back for seconds. Disgust flickered in her eyes as she hauled the desk's computer chair over, the kind with wheels and a swivel, shaky at best. She climbed onto it, planting one foot on the bed for stability, teetering just enough to hold steady. Stella hiked up her pearl-white knee-length dress a bit and stretched upward slowly. Fingers extended to the max, but she was still a couple inches shy. She rose onto her tiptoes, straining, but no dice. Frowning from her perch, she scanned around and snagged a book from beside the cabinet. As she leaned down, footsteps suddenly echoed outside the door. Fast, but measured. A man's, for sure. Her pulse spiked. She clutched the table, scrambling to hop down, but, perfect timing, her other sleeve caught on the cabinet's edge. She tugged frantically to break free, but it was too late to descend. The door flew open out of nowhere. Stella went rigid, her knees giving way as she toppled backward off the chair. A quick yelp escaped her, but the expected crash never hit. A firm hand latched precisely onto her thigh, another banding around her waist, hauling her into a solid hold and planting her feet firmly on the floor. She slammed into a warm, toned chest, a crisp, grounding sandalwood aroma enveloping her, not Bradly's scent. Stella glanced up, nearly clipping the guy's chin. Milford let go right away, backing off a step to give her space. Her cheeks burned, the thigh he'd gripped feeling like it was on fire. Mortified and frozen, she stammered, "Th-thanks." Milford stayed composed, his eyes skimming her flushed face and the pinkened patch of skin on her thigh from his hold. His Adam's apple dipped subtly. "Didn't realize you were in here. My bad." Stella shook her head, even more flustered. She was the one imposing on him. Milford flicked a glance upward. "Need some help?" She looked too. Up top, the marriage license screamed for attention. Chapter 7 Don't Let Me Hate You Stella just came out with it. "I want to get the marriage license down." Milford hesitated for a beat, without probing why she needed it, and slid the chair out of the way. Tall and long-limbed, he barely had to tip up on his toes to snag it effortlessly. Milford skimmed the lettering on the license, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes before the faintest quirk tugged at his lips, almost undetectable. He passed it over to Stella. "Ah, I see." She missed the words, taking it with a soft murmur: "Thanks, Milford." Her palms were slick with sweat now, but holding the certificate still sent an icy shiver through her. Those bold letters were a brutal reminder. This whole marriage had been one big joke. From beginning to end, Bradly's grand performance of undying love had always had a third wheel in the shadows. Milford dropped his gaze. Towering over her, all he could make out was the neat swirl at the top of her head, round and oddly appealing. Those slim, pale hands gripped the certificate like a vise, completely bloodless. Milford asked offhandedly, "So, what's the marriage license for?" "Oh, I just want to bring it home and store it there," Stella shot back, pulling an excuse out of thin air. Milford's stare felt like it enveloped her, the heat of it almost scorching, though he kept his hands to himself. Then he casually adjusted his cufflinks and turned to go. Stella let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, sagging against the cool cabinet. Her thigh still tingled with warmth from his grip; she quickly smoothed her skirt down, tucked the license into her bag, and only left the room once everything looked undisturbed. Bradly was still out in the back garden, deep in conversation. Stella kept her face neutral, strolling over to stand at his side. A few relatives were chatting with him. "Hey, word is Milford actually got back a couple days ago, but only tipped us off today." Bradly looked taken aback. "I thought he was flying in today?" "Nope, sounds like he hit up some auction. I only heard bits and pieces, supposedly the other night at the Empire Auction House." "He must not have gone. I was there that evening too, and I didn't see him anywhere," Bradly said, frowning in confusion. Stella's eyelashes flickered subtly, but she played it cool. Out of nowhere, her mind jumped back to that enigmatic bidder in suite 217. She wondered, 'Could Milford be the mystery guest who got the bracelet for me?' She shoved the thought down as soon as it surfaced. They'd only crossed paths once, total strangers really, connected by the flimsiest in-law tie. No matter how you sliced it, Milford wouldn't stick his neck out for her. Just like Bradly said, he hadn't caught wind of anything, so it couldn't be Milford. Stella let it go. After some more mingling, the group started to break up. Bradly steered her over to bid farewell to Milford. "Mom, Milford, we're taking off. Let's set up a family dinner soon when things settle." Milford slouched back in his chair with effortless nonchalance and gave a nod. "I'm knee-deep in an acquisition, no hurry on the get-together. But you..." He lifted his head, his expression sharpening. "Keep your life on the straight and narrow. Don't veer off track." The edge of warning in his voice was crystal clear. Bradly had grown up overshadowed by Milford; he went rigid but brushed it off casually. "Come on, everything's good. My company's running smooth as ever. If you're skeptical, drop by anytime and pore over the financials—knock yourself out." "It's not just about the company," Milford said softly, eyes down as he savored a sip of coffee. Stella couldn't help stealing a glance at him, and in that instant, a ridiculous idea struck her. From what Bradly had mentioned, Milford was abroad most of the time but still had the inside scoop on everything back home. She wondered, 'Does he know about the shady stuff Bradly is up to on the sly?' "Milford, I hear you. I'll make sure to nurture my marriage with Stella, our whole life together." Bradly grinned, threading his fingers through Stella's. Milford's gaze lingered on their joined hands for a second before drifting away, sealed with a subtle nod. Stella had no desire for any more close contact with Bradly, so she subtly shook his hand free without thinking. A split second later, his disbelieving stare locked onto her face, and he tried to grab her again. She'd known her move would humiliate him in the moment, so she didn't bother saying goodbye to Milford. She just turned and walked out ahead. Once they slid into the car, Bradly shed his polite, deferential mask from earlier, reverting to his entitled rich-kid swagger. He tugged his tie loose, a flicker of annoyance pinching his brows. "Always playing the big-brother card to chew me out, same crap since we were little. "So what if he's crushing it overseas? I'm holding my own just fine back home. Who in Ostralver would even think about messing with me?" Bradly fished out a menthol cigarette on autopilot, ready to light up, but he caught himself after glancing at Stella and shoved it back. He said, "All these years, folks have been whispering, or saying it straight to my face, that my company's thriving because of his pull. Like he's behind every damn thing. "And you? You flat-out refused to let me hold your hand back there. Trying to make me look like an idiot in front of him?" His expression iced over, the edge in his voice impossible to miss. Stella's frown deepened as she took it in. Even without knowing Milford all that well, she understood that Bradly's cocky antics in Ostralver, brushing people off like they were nothing, had always been propped up by Milford's clout. She'd assumed the brothers were tight, but clearly Bradly's respect was just for show; underneath, his grudge against Milford simmered deep. She could overlook a lot, but with things the way they were now, there was zero point in him putting on that phony hand-holding act. Stella gripped her bag, the one with the marriage license inside, and couldn't bite her tongue. "We haven't held hands in forever. It feels off to me." The car went dead quiet. She was right. Their physical closeness had dwindled so much that even she couldn't pinpoint the last time. Bradly's brow creased, and he snapped the cigarette filter clean off between his fingers. "What was that?" Stella met his eyes steadily. "From here on out, let's skip the pointless touchy-feely stuff. It just doesn't sit right." She hadn't even finished when the brakes screeched harshly. The car lurched to a halt on the empty shoulder of the road. Stella almost smacked into the window from the force, her pulse hammering as she barked, "Are you out of your mind?" Bradly loomed over her, fingers digging into her chin, irritation boiling in his glare. "Stella, do you have any idea what you're saying?" The pinch stung like crazy, and the absurdity of it all hit her as she wrestled to shove him off. "Is it not true? When's the last time we even held hands. Can you remember?" Bradly's gaze turned stormy, like she'd struck a raw spot. "I bet you're hung up on Milford, just like that girl from the second branch. That's why you pulled away in front of him. You're trying to cut ties with me?" "Bradly! What the hell are you babbling about?" Anger surged through her as she pushed harder. "Don't you dare pin your gross history on me!" The way the family had orbited Milford like he was the sun had obviously gotten under his skin. The more she resisted, the darker his look grew. Abruptly, he leaned in and smashed his mouth against hers. Stella's eyes flew wide, her head whipping aside to evade as she hammered at his shoulders with everything she had. He'd locked lips with Shanna god knows how often. The thought turned her stomach, so she clamped down and bit him hard. Bradly yelped in pain, jerking back as the fog cleared and he clocked what he'd just done, regret flashing across his face. Blood dotted his lip, but he brushed it off, lunging to wrap her in his arms. "I'm sorry, Stella, baby, I'm so sorry. I screwed up; it was a stupid impulse..." Drained of energy, Stella sagged into the passenger seat, letting him hold her while a barren wave of emptiness and revulsion washed over her. The hug she'd once melted into now repulsed her to her core. "Get off me." Her voice came out rough and scratchy. "Bradly, don't push me to hating you."
Chapter 1 Don't Want Him Anymore "I'm sorry, ma'am." On the other end of the line, the insurance customer service rep said coolly, "After checking our records, the car owner, Mr. Woodard, is indeed married, but the spouse listed here isn't you." Stella Daniels had gotten into a car accident on her way to the Woodard Group headquarters. She couldn't get through to Bradly Woodard on his phone, so she had no choice but to call the insurance company. The car was registered in Bradly's name, but as his wife, she should be able to process the claim too. "When Mr. Woodard picked up the car, he came with his wife and provided the original marriage license. Her last name is Erickson, and her full name is Shanna Erickson," the rep said. It hit Stella like a slap in the face. Dizziness washed over her in waves, leaving her whole body shaking uncontrollably. She and Bradly had been childhood sweethearts. Their families were old friends, and everyone in Ostralver's high society knew how clingy he was with her. Bradly couldn't stand being apart from her even for a single day. Three years ago, when Stella headed abroad for her studies, Bradly had the plane stopped just for her. During her three years in Ensland, he expanded his business overseas to make it easier to look after her. Sixteen thousand miles apart, he'd still fly across the ocean every week to see her. The year she came down with a severe lung illness and nearly didn't pull through, she spent a week in intensive care. Bradly ignored the infection risks and stayed right by her side, sliding a ring onto her finger. He said, "If anything happens to you, I'll go with you. We'll be husband and wife in the next life too." For Bradly's sake, she turned down her mentor's offer to stay on in the lab and headed back home. Brimming with excitement, she went to find him, planning to surprise him. But when she pushed open the door to the CEO's office, she saw a slender, pretty woman straddling his lap. The woman's innocent face tilted upward, her voice whiny and aggrieved. "Mr. Woodard, what happens to me now that Stella is back?" Bradly sat in his executive chair, his tall frame looming over her. A flash of ruthlessness crossed his stern features. "You? You're just her stand-in. Don't forget your place." He lifted his hand, pinching her delicate chin with a sneer. "Barely a three-out-of-ten resemblance, and you think you can compare to her?" Stella was still clutching the gift she'd prepared for him. With a loud "bang," it dropped to the floor, finally breaking the scene in the office. Bradly's face drained of color as he shoved the woman off and jumped to his feet. That woman was Shanna. After Stella caught them in the act, Bradly fired Shanna on the spot and pulled out all the stops to win her back. Bradly, the arrogant prince of Ostralver's elite circles, humbled himself to the dust before her, begging her to give him another chance. Any project she set her sights on, he'd drop without a second thought. He stood in the pouring rain outside her building for over a week, just for a glimpse of her. He said, "Stella, I'm not asking you to forgive me. At least let me explain. "I only ever saw Shanna as your replacement. You've been gone abroad for so long; I missed you terribly. I swear, I just kept her around. Nothing more ever happened between us. "That time you walked in, I'd had too much to drink, and she deliberately tempted me. I lost control for a moment... "I've already let her go, and she won't show up in our lives again. Stella, please, come back to me." Back then, Stella couldn't stand even the slightest betrayal. She insisted on breaking off the engagement. Until that one incident. She was kidnapped by a business rival. The kidnappers reneged on the deal, tied her up in an abandoned factory, and set the place ablaze. Bradly charged into the flames without a second thought to rescue her, shielding her from a collapsing steel beam. He ended up gravely injured, confined to bed for nearly six months. By risking his life, Bradly finally melted her resolve. Once he was out of the hospital, she accepted his proposal, and they threw a lavish wedding. In the two years since they tied the knot, he'd treated her just as devotedly as ever, with zero scandals. He even imposed a strict curfew on himself, heading home right on time every day. Even on out-of-town business trips, he'd video call her constantly. His partners would tease him about being henpecked. He never denied it. Instead, he'd grin proudly and say, "A real man takes care of his family." Memories rushed through Stella's mind like a whirlwind, every past moment flashing by in a blur. Her legs buckled, and she dropped to her knees, burying her face in her hands. She couldn't figure out which Bradly was the real one anymore. A bitter, mocking gleam sparked in her eyes. She thought, 'How absurd.' She'd been his wife for two years, and only now was she learning that even their marriage license had been a sham. Stella scrubbed her face hard, her bangs already soaked with cold sweat. She ignored the other driver's furious yelling and calmly dialed the police. They showed up fast. After finishing her statement, Stella left the station under a sky that had gone completely dark. Her phone lit up with several missed calls from Bradly. When she hadn't answered, he'd sent texts instead. Bradly: [Babe, I was tied up in a key meeting this afternoon. Signal jammers were on, so I missed your call. You okay?] Bradly: [I've got a client dinner tonight, so I'll be late getting home. I double-checked: no women involved, so no need to worry.] Bradly: [Head to bed early. Don't wait up. Love you.] Stella stared at the screen, a sharp wave of irony twisting in her gut. Bradly didn't stagger in until the wee hours. He reeked of alcohol, which almost, but not quite, masked the subtle whiff of perfume on him. "Honey..." He could barely keep his balance, stumbling over to wrap his arms around her through the blanket. "I missed you so damn much..." Stella didn't say a word. Only once he was dead to the world did she sit up quietly and unlock his phone with his fingerprint. The thing was squeaky clean, no suspicious traces at all. His contacts were mostly buddies and business folks, with hers pinned at the top as "Darling Wife." Flawlessly tidy, just like their sham of a marriage. Stella hooked the phone up to her computer, and it didn't take long to uncover his second WhatsApp account. She signed in, and right away, messages popped up from a profile with a cute pink kitten avatar, labeled "Baby." Shanna: [Bradly, thanks for tonight. Without you, I wouldn't have known what to do.] Shanna: [I've always thought meeting you was the luckiest thing that's ever happened to me. I won't intrude on your life. As long as you swing by to see me once in a while, that's enough to make me happy.] Stella scrolled back through the history. She'd suspected as much, but seeing it all laid out still hit her like a punch to the chest, leaving her breathless. They chatted nearly every day. Shanna never missed a good morning message, and Bradly's replies had shifted over time, from total silence at first, to sporadic responses, and now to answering every single one. A chill spread through her. Stella clutched the phone tighter, knowing she should quit while she was ahead but unable to stop herself from digging deeper. Shanna: [Bradly, sorry, I had a few drinks and lost it for a bit. Doc says I'm okay now, so don't stress.] Shanna: [Mrs. Woodard's birthday bash is important. Go enjoy it with her. I'll be fine.] Stella squeezed her eyes shut as the memory came rushing back. Her birthday. Bradly had spent over a month planning it down to the last detail, but that day, he was totally distracted. Hell, he almost cut his own hand while slicing the cake. When she'd asked what was up, he'd brushed it off as work drama, told her not to worry, then pulled her into a soft embrace and encouraged her to blow out the candles and make a wish. It all made sense now, as she stared at this chat log. That same day, Shanna had tried to kill herself by slashing her wrists and ended up in the ER. A sour bitterness flooded her chest like a rising tide. In those brief seconds when she'd closed her eyes to wish, she wondered, 'Was he agonizing over Shanna in the hospital, or picturing endless years together with her?' Stella knew she didn't need an answer to that anymore. She gently placed the phone back and looked down at Bradly, fast asleep beside her. She'd known him since she was four, and for the twenty years that followed, she'd truly believed his love was hers alone, irreplaceable. But now she saw it for what it was: just cheap free samples at a store, handed out to anyone who walked by. If that was all it amounted to, she was done with it. Chapter 2 Bid Against Her The next day, Stella woke to find Bradly busy in the kitchen, his broad shoulders narrowing to a slim waist, his tall, lean build moving with purpose. The sight hit her hard, a dull ache tightening in her chest. Bradly had learned to cook entirely for her sake. She still remembered that turbulent period when the Woodard Group was in crisis. His rivals had targeted her, paying off a servant to poison her food. She'd been unconscious for three full days. When she finally woke, Bradly was there, his eyes red-rimmed and veined with exhaustion, gripping her hand like a lifeline. The instant she stirred, the imposing Bradly crumbled forward, enveloping her in a hug as scalding tears fell onto her skin. From then on, Bradly threw himself into cooking lessons, taking charge of all her meals. In less than a month, he'd gone from a spoiled elite who couldn't distinguish spices to turning out dishes worthy of a Michelin chef. Just then, his phone rang. Stella glanced at it but made no move to answer. Bradly darted out of the kitchen, apron still on, grabbing the phone with a barely concealed flash of anxiety. Stella pretended not to notice and went to wash up. When she came back, the table was set with breakfast, and he was slipping into his suit jacket from the coat rack. Seeing her, he said gently, "There's an emergency at work. I have to run. Sorry I can't join you for breakfast." Stella murmured, "Sure, work comes first." He was clearly in a hurry, because he didn't pick up on the new edge of cool distance in her tone and rushed out. She stared blankly after him until he was gone, then dumped the entire spread into the trash. Then she picked up her phone and dialed a number. "That offer you made before? I'm on board." The person on the other end erupted in delight, chattering away before shifting to broken Andosa Language. "Stella, why the sudden change of heart? I've bugged you about this so many times, and you always said you were married now and focusing on family." A mocking glint flickered in Stella's eyes. She thought, 'Married? This so-called marriage has been dead on arrival.' The caller was her former mentor from her overseas studies. He'd reached out lately, hoping she'd join his new team and spearhead a major project. At the time, she'd kept saying no out of loyalty to Bradly. Now, she only wished she'd seen through the absurd joke of their marriage earlier. After the call, she contacted immigration to schedule a passport renewal. It would take about a week. But before heading out, she had one loose end to tie up. That evening, Stella showed up at a private auction at the Cloud Hotel. She was after one of her mother's keepsakes. Her mom had died when she was eight, and soon after, the Daniels family had liquidated her wedding gift. Stella had been hunting down the items ever since. Over the years, she'd only reclaimed a few. Tonight's auction featured a bracelet from that collection, one her mother had picked up on a trip to Ijance. It was utterly unique, irreplaceable. Whatever it took, she was getting it back. Stella settled into her seat just as the auction was about to start. She was flipping through the catalog when Bradly's voice floated over. "Didn't I already pick out that royal blue sapphire set for you? Not good enough?" His voice carried that familiar tenderness. Shanna linked her arm with his, pouting playfully. "Your taste sucks! I want to pick my own birthday gift." Stella watched them quietly until Bradly threaded through the guests and their gazes collided by chance. The color drained from his face. On pure reflex, he jerked his arm away from Shanna. "Stella." He strode over quickly. "I tried calling you a few times, but you didn't answer. Were you planning to surprise me?" Even though he tried to play it cool, she could still catch that subtle hint of panic in his expression. Stella didn't bother calling him on it, replying evenly, "My phone was on silent. I didn't hear it." Bradly visibly relaxed, casually taking her hand in his with a look of concern. "Your hands are like ice. Didn't I warn you about the cold snap today? You're always putting style over staying warm. If you catch a chill, you know it'll just kill me." As he talked, he signaled a server for a blanket and draped it snugly around her shoulders. Stella kept a straight face, brushing him off as she looked past him to Shanna, who lingered behind with a scowl. Shanna nibbled her lip, then defiantly dropped into the seat next to Bradly, her gaze simmering with irritation. Bradly leaned closer, dropping his voice to explain, "We just wrapped up a major project at the company, and Shanna pulled her weight big time. Her birthday's around the corner, so I thought I'd treat her to something as a project bonus." He eyed her anxiously. "Stella, you're not mad, right?" Shanna piped up in a soft, vulnerable tone. "Mrs. Woodard, if this upsets you, I'll just go. I don't want to get in the way of you and Mr. Woodard." Stella's mouth quirked into a smile that never touched her eyes. "We're married. A little thing like this? Of course it doesn't bother me." The auction got underway shortly after. Bradly treated Shanna like she was invisible, focusing entirely on Stella. He paged through the catalog, throwing in bids left and right. "Babe, this would look amazing on you." He grinned, tenderly brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his tone warm and intimate. "You'd be gorgeous in it." Stella averted her eyes, but out of the corner of her vision, she saw Shanna discreetly clutching the edge of Bradly's jacket in the dim light. Their gazes locked for a split second in a shared, lingering look. She masked the derision in her own eyes, struck by how absurd it all was. Bradly seemed totally at ease juggling both women, convinced he was keeping things balanced, one with the official status, the other with his undivided public attention. She thought, 'What could be fairer than that?' But Stella had never been interested in that kind of equilibrium. Her world extended far beyond romance. Bradly? He was just a small detour on her path, a misstep she'd own up to. And now, it was time to set things right. "Next up: a string of bracelet. Fine-grained texture, deep aroma that lingers. Starting bid at 170,000 dollars, with increments of at least 20,000 dollars!" The auctioneer's pumped-up voice echoed through the room. Finally, Stella's main target for the evening. Bids flew in fast, the screen flickering with updates as the auctioneer called out, "Number 17 lady at 200,000 dollars! Number 9 gentleman ups it to 260,000 dollars! Going higher?" Once the initial frenzy tapered off, Stella lifted her paddle. "500,000 dollars." She'd doubled the current bid in one go. It was a hefty amount. Sure, the bracelet was top-notch, but it wasn't the auction's highlight. The room went quiet after her call; no one countered. "Fantastic! Number 11 lady at 500,000 dollars! "500,000 dollars once! 500,000 dollars twice!" The auctioneer hoisted his gavel, poised to bring it down. "No more bids? Then 500,000 dollars—" "520,000 dollars," A gentle, hesitant voice interrupted. Shanna shrank against Bradly's side, paddle in hand, murmuring timidly to him, "Is this where I put in the amount?" Chapter 3 You're Dirty Stella frowned and raised her bid. "540,000 dollars." But Shanna was right behind her, countering with, "560,000 dollars." How annoyingly precise, each time, she stuck to the bare minimum, slapping on just 20,000 dollars more than Stella's offer. Shanna turned toward her, her voice dripping with plea. "Stella, you've got plenty of jewelry already. Please, let me have this one. I adore it. "I'm not like you, born with money, everything handed to you on a silver platter. You snap your fingers and get whatever you want. If it goes any higher, I really won't be able to keep up." Stella didn't bother looking at her, just quirking her lips in a thin smile. "Isn't Mr. Woodard covering the cost for you? What are you stressing about?" Shanna's face went a shade paler, but she answered in that soft, demure tone, "Even so, Mr. Woodard earns his money the hard way. If I can save him a bit, I ought to." She was the epitome of considerate and caring. After several more back-and-forth bids, the bracelet's price had soared to 700,000 dollars. Stella let out a chilly scoff and was opening her mouth to up the ante when Bradly beat her to it. He said, "Babe, why don't we just let Shanna take this bracelet?" Stella's fingers curled into a tight fist, her nails biting into her palm. She lifted her gaze, any lingering warmth in her eyes turning to ice. "What did you just say?" Bradly let out a resigned sigh, giving her hand a comforting pat as he murmured gently, "Babe, I already told Shanna she'd get a gift tonight, and she's got her heart set on this one. No need to compete with her. "Plus, I've already snagged you a handful of other pieces. Isn't that plenty?" He said it all lightly, teasingly, as if it were nothing more than a harmless quip. Stella shut her eyes, a nameless sourness creeping along her nerves, coiling around her heart until it felt like she couldn't draw a breath. Given Shanna's modest background, 700,000 dollars was way out of her league. She wouldn't even make the guest list here on her own. The only reason she was in that seat, trading bids blow for blow, was Bradly's backing. His pampering had delivered her straight into Stella's path. Stella whispered, "What if I refuse to back down?" She hoisted her paddle once more, her voice echoing through the room. "1 million dollars." A hush blanketed the hall. The auctioneer clearly picked up on the drama, his delivery faltering. "Number eleven at 1 million dollars. Do I hear higher?" Shanna's eyes welled up, on the verge of tears, as she cast a helpless look at Bradly before tacking on another fifty thousand. "1 million 20 thousand dollars." Stella's features hardened to frost, and she was poised to fire back when the manager bustled over, bending close to murmur, "Mrs. Woodard, apologies. We ran a credit verification on your account, and it's frozen. Got another one we can use?" The words slammed into her like a bolt from the blue, ringing in her ears. She snapped her head toward Bradly, but he'd already looked away. An icy numbness spread through her arms and legs. She though,t 'Of course, it has to be him.' Her primary account was linked with his; besides her, only he could authorize a freeze on her cards. Triumph flickered in Shanna's eyes as she added with a pointed edge, "Well, in that case, Mrs. Woodard, maybe it's time to step aside. You've got so much already. Can't you let me have this one little thing?" Up on stage, the auction rolled on, the display frozen on Shanna's latest bid: 1 million 20 thousand dollars. Shanna could hardly hide her glee, chirping sweetly, "Go on, call it!" But the words had barely left her lips when someone announced he would bid for the lot at any costs right in the second-floor VIP suite. After a momentary silence, the room burst into chaos. "He's declared absolute intent!" Even the auctioneer's expression changed. He'd been in the game for over a decade, but this was his first encounter with such a scenario. He hurriedly called out, "Lot number six goes to the gentleman in box 217, regardless of how high the price goes." Anyone up in those second-floor VIP suites was either swimming in money or held serious sway in Ostralver's upper crust. Stella glanced upward toward the source of the voice, catching only a vague outline behind the draped curtains. Even when she couldn't see his face, the man's crossed-legged posture radiated an unspoken dominance that pressed down on the room. The auctioneer slammed his gavel down with finality, proclaiming, "Congratulations to our esteemed guest in box 217 on winning lot number six! You're now upgraded to black gold status!" Across all of Ostralver's elite scene, fewer than a handful had ever hit black gold level at these events. Stella wondered, 'Just who is this mystery man?' Stella loosened her clenched fist slightly, torn between relief that her mother's heirloom hadn't landed in Shanna's clutches and anxiety over reclaiming it from this unknown figure. No matter what, she'd stop at nothing, pay any price, to bring her mother's possession home. She rose to her feet, intent on marching over to box 217 for a chat, when the attendant who'd just ducked inside reappeared, tray in hand with the bracelet. "What's this? The bidder in 217 having second thoughts?" "Auctions don't do take-backs." "Probably short on funds. I called it. No one's done this here before." As the murmurs swirled, the attendant headed straight for Stella, dipping into a courteous bow with a warm smile. She said, "Mrs. Woodard, the gentleman in box 217 requests that I deliver the bracelet to you as a gift. He wishes for you to follow your true path and for all to unfold as it should." The place erupted in gossip once more, with guests shooting glances her way, some envious, others skeptical, many flat-out stunned. "Isn't that Mrs. Woodard? What's her deal with the upstairs guy?" "Likely just buttering up Mr. Woodard." "Nah, I don't buy it. Out of all the goodies tonight, why zero in on those beads for Mrs. Woodard? Sounds like she's got a real connection there." The buzz filtered through, and Bradly's face turned stone-cold. In a tight, edged voice, he demanded, "Stella, what's the story with you and whoever's in box 217?" Stella held his piercing stare and said flatly, "I have no idea who he is." "!" Bradly jumped up, clamping down on her wrist like a vice. Her soft, fair skin reddened almost instantly under the pressure. Stella winced sharply, jerking her arm back on reflex. "Bradly, have you lost your mind? Haven't you stirred up enough drama for one day?" But he barreled on, blind to her fury, his reddened eyes locked on her as if he could swallow her up. "What's really between you two? "Stella, through all our married years, I've bent over backward for you. Anything you desired, I served it up without question. Why would you betray me like this?" In his mind, it was already a done deal: she was entangled in something shady with the man above. If the guy was angling for a favor from him, Bradly would've recognized him right away. People in Ostralver didn't beat around the bush when they needed something from him. They came direct. The jab landed raw and direct. Bradly blinked, frozen for a beat as a flicker of alarm shot through his eyes. Chapter 4 Don't Know You'd Come Bradly said, "I'm sorry, Stella. I didn't mean it like that. I had no right getting jealous over you and some stranger. It's all on me." Bradly's eyes reddened. "But honestly, there's nothing going on between Shanna and me. I just brought her along as a thank-you. Can you let this slide?" Seeing his cue, Shanna ducked her head meekly, her voice catching. "That's right, Mrs. Woodard. I've been bending over backward to keep my distance from Mr. Woodard so you wouldn't get the wrong impression. "I'm not asking for the world, just a decent birthday gift. I didn't grow up with your advantages; you've had everything handed to you and even snagged a catch like Mr. Woodard. Can't I at least pick out something for myself?" "Just a gift, huh?" Stella closed in on her, one step at a time. "Ms. Erickson, I've never given a damn about this 'gift' you're going on about. What gets under my skin is you, a Woodard Group employee, crossing lines you have no business crossing." As they drew closer, Bradly instinctively stepped in front of Shanna, his voice soft and coaxing. "Stella, if it's bugging you this much, I'll transfer her to a branch office once the auction's over. "But for now, cut me some slack. Let Shanna have the bracelet. When we get home, name your price on anything, and it's yours." Shanna bobbed her head in agreement, tears glistening on her lashes as she pleaded, "Stella, I really adore this bracelet. You've got it all already. Why go after the one thing I want? "Or is this just because you hate my guts and can't resist taking shots at me?" "What makes you think I'd ever like you?" Stella let out a cold snort. "This belonged to me from the start. Why the hell would I give it up?" She took the bracelet from the attendant with casual ease, her smile sharp but empty. "Ms. Erickson, know your place." Her refusal to budge finally wore through Bradly's patience, erasing every bit of softness from his face. "Stella, do you have to humiliate me like this in front of everyone? Where does that leave my dignity? "It's just a crappy old bracelet. Am I really worth less to you than some trinket?" He said it with such conviction, as if he'd wiped from his memory the solemn vow he'd made when proposing: that he'd hunt down every single one of her mother's sold-off keepsakes, no matter what. Stella's hand flew up, delivering a resounding slap across his cheek. The sharp crack rang out, pulling shocked stares from every corner of the room. Bradly's head snapped sideways, his face livid as he fixed her with a glare, his words hissing through clenched teeth. "Stella, drop the drama already. Have I pampered you too much these days, turning you into this unreasonable nightmare?" Stella reined in her temper, keeping her tone even. "Bradly, you better not live to regret today." Without another word, she turned and walked out, not sparing a backward glance. As her figure receded, Shanna gently touched the angry red mark on Bradly's cheek, her voice full of worry. "Mr. Woodard, are you okay? "Stella's got no boundaries. How could she hit you with all these people watching?" Bradly swatted her hand aside, his nails digging into his palm as he stared after her retreating path. "I've spoiled her rotten, letting her forget that everything she has comes from me." Shanna peeked at his changing expression, testing the waters. "Mr. Woodard, about the bracelet..." Bradly rubbed his throbbing cheek, pulled a bank card from his pocket, and handed it over. "1.7 million dollars on there. Buy whatever catches your eye." Box 217, Stella rapped on the door, eager to thank the mystery bidder face-to-face. Silence. She caught a server walking by. "Excuse me, any idea where the gentleman from this box headed?" "He slipped out right after nabbing the last item," the server said. Disappointment flashed in her eyes, but Stella pressed on, "Do you know who he was?" The server gave her a regretful smile. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard, we're not allowed to spill on our VIPs. Don't make this harder for us." Catching herself, Stella moved out of the way. "Thanks all the same." By the time she made it home from the auction, an hour had ticked by. Stella went straight up to the study, fired up the computer, and dove into the assets registered under her and Bradly's names. After tallying up the numbers, she snatched her phone, found lawyer Rubin Cobb's contact, and hit dial. She said, "I've sorted out the asset division documents for me and Bradly and sent them over. I need you to handle the property split by tomorrow." Rubin quickly received the files and nodded respectfully. "Of course, Mrs. Woodard. I'll get right on it." Stella stared intently at her computer screen, her grip tightening on the mouse. "If Bradly's committed bigamy, how should our assets be divided?" "Generally, any property the bigamous party gained through the bigamy can be claimed back by the other spouse," Rubin replied matter-of-factly. Half of Bradly's current wealth had come from Stella's investments to support his career early on. Her expression darkened, and she promptly forwarded the marriage license between him and Shanna. "Rubin, please use every legal avenue to recover my half of the assets." After hanging up, Stella slumped back in her chair, utterly drained physically and emotionally. She closed her eyes slowly, but sleep was nowhere in sight. Bradly would never agree to a divorce. Until she had everything locked down, she couldn't let on that anything was amiss. Just then, the study door was kicked open from the outside. Bradly flung his jacket onto the desk and yanked Stella up from her seat in front of the computer. "Do you realize that because of your little outburst, I've become a laughingstock in our circles? "What exactly do you want? Are you still obsessing over what happened back then?" Stella opened her eyes slowly, her gaze settling calmly on Bradly, but she remained silent. A fire raged in Bradly's chest, intensifying by the second, and he couldn't hold back his fury any longer. "Since we got married, have I ever done anything to wrong you? I come home right on time every night after work, I always fill you in on any business dinners, and if there's even a hint of a woman involved, I skip them entirely! I've bent over backward, and it's still not good enough for you?" He remembered every detail crystal clear. In his mind, these were the sacrifices he'd made to marry her. Stella suddenly found the whole thing absurd. She couldn't bear to look at him anymore, so she stood up and walked straight out of the study without a backward glance. Behind her, Bradly's voice echoed heavily. "Stella, no matter what you think, my conscience is clear." It felt like Stella's heart had been shattered into icy fragments, a sharp, bitter pain surging through her. Her mind buzzed, and for a moment, all she could hear was that phrase repeating over and over. She thought, 'My conscience is clear? So, in his eyes, everything he's done is perfectly justifiable.' The next morning, when Stella woke up, Bradly was already gone. On the table sat the breakfast he'd prepared, tailored exactly to her tastes. Stella pressed her lips together, her feelings a complicated tangle. They'd ended things on a sour note last night, yet Bradly had still made her breakfast this morning. But this was the same man who'd lied to her for years. No matter what, it was time to end things with Bradly. She didn't touch the food and headed straight to the office. These past few years, she'd stayed out of Bradly's business dealings. A lot of her old financial records were outdated now, and she needed the latest reports. The secretary looked startled when she saw her, then managed to say, "Mrs. Woodard, are you here to see Mr. Woodard?" "No." Stella replied evenly. "Send the finance manager in to see me." Her shares were second only to Bradly's, giving her full access to every aspect of the company. The secretary hesitated briefly before nodding. Stella noticed her immediately turning to make a phone call, probably alerting Bradly. Stella didn't intervene; let her. She settled into the finance office, sipping her coffee absentmindedly while flipping through magazines on the shelf. Most were glossy entertainment rags, mixed in with novels and comics. Stella frowned, only now picking up on the details: the desk was covered in a pink plaid mat, cluttered with adorable plush toys. The standout pair was a set of couple dolls, their outfits emblazoned with the letters W and E. It hit Stella suddenly what that meant, and just then, the door behind her swung open. Shanna rushed in. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard." She was clutching a cup of coffee as she apologized. "I had no idea you'd drop by like this..." Chapter 5 All For Milford Stella arched an eyebrow as she looked her over. "So you're the finance manager?" Shanna nodded with a quick smile. "That's me. If you need anything at all, just say the word. Bradly, well, Mr. Woodard is tied up in a meeting right now. But don't worry, I'll make sure to relay whatever message you have." Stella let out a soft laugh. "No need for that." She regarded Shanna with clear curiosity. "I'm not looking for Bradly. I'm here to see you." Shanna's smile faltered for a moment before she recovered, her tone turning gentle. "Mrs. Woodard, I get that you're still bothered by what went down at the auction last night, but there's no reason to be so worked up about my connection to Mr. Woodard. After all..." She raised her hand, the elegant diamond ring on her finger glinting under the light, perfectly complementing her bashful grin. "I'm already married, and things are great between me and my husband." Stella's eyes locked on the ring, her breath hitching just for an instant. It was ridiculous. In this whole messed-up situation, she was the one playing the role of the mistress. The ring was an exact match for the one Bradly had given her during his proposal. But within seconds, Stella averted her gaze. "It's a lovely ring, but you're mistaken." She spoke unhurriedly, "I'm just here to grab the latest financial report from you. That's all." Stella caught the sour shift in Shanna's expression and smiled to herself. "Seems like you're the one on edge here, Ms. Erickson." Shanna's face transformed completely, that smug spark in her eyes snuffed out. She bit her lip, unable to find words for a long beat. Stella watched her with unruffled poise. "Do I need to repeat my request, Ms. Erickson?" The words had barely left her mouth when Bradly burst in, his expression clouding over at the sight. "Stella, wasn't the scene from last night enough?" His voice was laced with ice. "How long are you planning to drag this out? I've told you already. There's nothing going on between me and Shanna. If you don't believe me..." Stella interrupted him mid-sentence, "Oh, I believe you. Absolutely." A faint smirk tugged at her lips, though her eyes remained frosty as they settled on Shanna. "After all, Ms. Erickson's already married. She just mentioned it herself." The statement landed like a bomb. Shanna's face drained of color, and Bradly's followed suit. He shot her a withering glare. Tears sprang to Shanna's eyes in an instant. Stella had no interest in watching the drama unfold any further. She said evenly, "I'm here for this year's financials. I hold forty percent of the company. Surely I can access that, right?" Bradly seemed to snap back to reality, nodding hastily. "Of course you can." He barked orders at the secretary to fetch it immediately, all the while stealing wary glances at her face. Once he confirmed she wasn't giving anything away, he exhaled almost imperceptibly in relief. He said, "Stella, what's with the sudden interest? You've never bothered with company matters before." Stella answered coolly, "After the account freeze last night, I decided it's smarter to set up a separate one." Bradly's expression froze again. "Stella..." The secretary returned promptly with the report. Stella brushed Bradly aside, skimmed through it quickly, and was heading for the door when he caught her by the wrist. He said, "Stella, about the family dinner tonight, are you coming home with me?" His tone was pleading, like he needed her answer to reassure himself that she hadn't caught on to anything fishy. Stella didn't look back, just replying calmly, "Sure." Bradly's face lit up. "Great, I'll swing by after work to pick you up." Stella dropped her gaze, masking the cool detachment in her eyes. She'd only agreed to head back to the family estate for one specific reason. The marriage license from when she and Bradly had tied the knot was a phony, but he'd made a whole production out of stashing it away at the house, claiming it had to be kept secure. Nothing could serve as stronger proof. Once she got her hands on it, his bigamy would be ironclad. Stella didn't bother waiting for Bradly; she hailed a cab and got there ahead of time. She'd figured it was just a standard family gathering, but she was caught off guard by the full turnout. Bradly's parents, fresh from their overseas vacation last week, were back, and even the distant relatives from the Woodard family's side branches had shown up en masse. "Stella, dear." As she walked in, Nadine Woodard peered over her shoulder. "Bradly didn't come with you?" Stella answered evenly, "He'll be along shortly." Nadine clicked her tongue, her irritation obvious. "On an important occasion like this, letting someone from outside the family arrive solo, what's got into him?" Stella's brow furrowed just a touch. She and Bradly had been engaged since childhood, but after her mother's passing, the Daniels family's status had tanked while the Woodard family kept climbing. That was when Nadine started pushing to scrap the arrangement, and she'd mentioned it more than a few times. But Chuck Woodard was upright and principled, flat-out refusing to play the social-climbing game. With Bradly dead set on marrying her and no one else, Nadine had reluctantly given in, though she made her resentment clear. Even after the marriage, she never passed up an opportunity to give Stella the cold shoulder. She was about to add something else when the butler rushed in and murmured, "He's here." Nadine promptly dropped the subject with Stella and jumped to her feet, the extended family hustling out right behind her to welcome the arrivals. The level of pomp surprised Stella. The Woodard family was already at the top of Ostralver's social elite. For them to pull out all the stops like this... Standing at the edge of the group, Stella glanced up and saw a black Maybach rolling up to the front of the estate. Someone hurried forward to open the door respectfully, and a tall, imposing figure stepped out unhurriedly. The man wore a sleek black suit, his chiseled features sharp, eyes as midnight, radiating a fierce intensity. Every gesture exuded a natural poise and authority that made it tough to hold his stare. The crowd swarmed forward in a rush, but he stayed cool and detached the whole time, his stunningly handsome face as impassive as carved ice, showing zero emotion. Then, as if picking up on something, he looked up toward Stella. Their eyes locked unexpectedly, sending her heart pounding. It was Milford Woodard, Bradly's brother. He'd returned to the country. Though they were brothers in name, Milford wasn't all that tight with the family. He'd headed overseas young and had spent years growing the business abroad. His father Edward Woodard was a total lightweight, good only at spending cash, not earning it. His grandpa Chuck had the smarts and drive, but age was catching up, leaving him unable to manage it all. Real power over the Woodard family had shifted to Milford ages ago. Stella let out a quiet breath. She thought, 'That explains the big crowd today. They've all turned out for Milford.' Chapter 6 Need Help? Stella lingered in the corner of the living room, watching the relatives descend like a swarm of locusts, all scrambling to surround Milford. Bradly stood next to Nadine, flashing a polished smile as he greeted, "Hey, Milford." The uncles who'd been buttering up Bradly just a minute ago quickly switched gears, beaming with over-the-top enthusiasm as they stepped up to say hello. "Milford, what prompted the sudden return?" "Milford, I hear you're in the middle of acquiring a domestic company? You're just getting more impressive by the day." "Come on inside, take a seat. We've got some top-shelf coffee." Bradly caught the stark contrast in the uncles' warmth, his smile fading briefly before he pulled it together and led the way forward. Stella quietly eyed the tall, strikingly handsome Milford striding into the living room like the star of the show, instinctively edging back a step. Now fully pushed to the fringes of the crowd, she shifted aside to let the trailing group pass, doing everything she could to blend into the wallpaper. Milford approached steadily. Unlike Bradly's flashy, outgoing vibe, he had a more brooding, aloof kind of handsomeness, like a pine tree blanketed in snow, regal and intimidating. He acknowledged the flattery around him with simple nods, his eyes scanning the room casually, subtly taking stock of everyone there. Until his gaze swept over Stella again, and he came to an abrupt halt. He paused, causing Bradly to stop too. "Something wrong, Milford?" Milford didn't respond, his steady gaze fixed on Stella. It was only a look, but it jolted her to her core. She felt an odd sense of being claimed, uninvited. Yet she'd barely crossed paths with Milford before. Bradly and the others traced his stare, his eyebrow quirking up. "Stella, come say hi to Big Milford." Stella started to step forward, but Milford beat her to it, walking straight toward her. Bradly and the rest exchanged surprised glances. So far, everyone had been approaching Milford. He hadn't initiated with a soul. Milford's deep eyes gave nothing away. "Stella?" Her breath hitched, like a faint breeze had brushed her ear. She hadn't anticipated him coming over to chat. It had been years, and they'd only met once or twice, but he still remembered her. Stella nodded. "Milford, it's been ages—" Before she could finish, Milford held out his hand. The move was so casual, so natural. Out of pure reflex and politeness, Stella extended hers, their palms connecting. In that brief clasp, she felt him squeeze gently, his thumb settling on her fingers and grazing them with a warm intensity. Milford released after just a second. Suddenly, Bradly sidled up, drawing Stella into his side with an arm around her waist, lacing his fingers through her left hand. He said, "Milford, how long are you in town this time? Stella and I can take you out to dinner one of these days." Milford took in their cozy pose, his glance dropping to their intertwined hands. "About a month." The words had barely left his mouth when Chuck came down the stairs, leaning on the butler for support. Milford headed over to talk with him. Not long after, the kitchen called that the party was ready. Stella trailed Bradly to their seats on the left side of the main table. Everyone filed in and sat. As the eldest branch, the two Woodard brothers took priority. Chuck claimed the head of the main table, with Nadine and Milford next in line. Stella and Bradly fell further down the order, landing her right across from Milford on the diagonal. The family feast got underway, with everyone firing questions at Milford about what he'd been up to lately. Stella kept her head down, nibbling at her food while catching bits of the conversation. Zrester bigwig, major stakeholder in Wonder Group, founder of that financial exchange and the smart transportation AI... Milford's credentials were endless and mind-blowing. She thought back to that Zrester party invite list she'd snagged years ago. Milford was third from the top, while she languished at the bottom. In all these years, she'd had next to no interaction with him. Right after the wedding, this mysterious Milford had only shown up once. He dropped off a gift and vanished. In just a handful of years, Milford had climbed to the pinnacle of Zrester's power players. His talent was obvious. Before long, the family party wound down, and folks scattered to grab desserts. Still hung up on that marriage license, Stella excused herself to head upstairs for a coat change. Bradly was itching to chat with Milford, his gaze fixed that way as he muttered distractedly, "Yeah, go on up." Stella wasted no time hustling upstairs. With the crowd milling about downstairs, she slipped to the third floor of the villa and nudged open Bradly's bedroom door. There it was: the glaring marriage license perched right on top of the nightstand, framed, flanked by their wedding portrait. As she stepped closer, memories of Bradly's cozy moments with Shanna flooded her brain, her nails digging slowly into her palm. That license seared her eyes, like it was sneering at her gullibility. She never should've caved, never should've handed Bradly a second shot. It just went to show that people's hearts circled back for seconds. Disgust flickered in her eyes as she hauled the desk's computer chair over, the kind with wheels and a swivel, shaky at best. She climbed onto it, planting one foot on the bed for stability, teetering just enough to hold steady. Stella hiked up her pearl-white knee-length dress a bit and stretched upward slowly. Fingers extended to the max, but she was still a couple inches shy. She rose onto her tiptoes, straining, but no dice. Frowning from her perch, she scanned around and snagged a book from beside the cabinet. As she leaned down, footsteps suddenly echoed outside the door. Fast, but measured. A man's, for sure. Her pulse spiked. She clutched the table, scrambling to hop down, but, perfect timing, her other sleeve caught on the cabinet's edge. She tugged frantically to break free, but it was too late to descend. The door flew open out of nowhere. Stella went rigid, her knees giving way as she toppled backward off the chair. A quick yelp escaped her, but the expected crash never hit. A firm hand latched precisely onto her thigh, another banding around her waist, hauling her into a solid hold and planting her feet firmly on the floor. She slammed into a warm, toned chest, a crisp, grounding sandalwood aroma enveloping her, not Bradly's scent. Stella glanced up, nearly clipping the guy's chin. Milford let go right away, backing off a step to give her space. Her cheeks burned, the thigh he'd gripped feeling like it was on fire. Mortified and frozen, she stammered, "Th-thanks." Milford stayed composed, his eyes skimming her flushed face and the pinkened patch of skin on her thigh from his hold. His Adam's apple dipped subtly. "Didn't realize you were in here. My bad." Stella shook her head, even more flustered. She was the one imposing on him. Milford flicked a glance upward. "Need some help?" She looked too. Up top, the marriage license screamed for attention. Chapter 7 Don't Let Me Hate You Stella just came out with it. "I want to get the marriage license down." Milford hesitated for a beat, without probing why she needed it, and slid the chair out of the way. Tall and long-limbed, he barely had to tip up on his toes to snag it effortlessly. Milford skimmed the lettering on the license, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes before the faintest quirk tugged at his lips, almost undetectable. He passed it over to Stella. "Ah, I see." She missed the words, taking it with a soft murmur: "Thanks, Milford." Her palms were slick with sweat now, but holding the certificate still sent an icy shiver through her. Those bold letters were a brutal reminder. This whole marriage had been one big joke. From beginning to end, Bradly's grand performance of undying love had always had a third wheel in the shadows. Milford dropped his gaze. Towering over her, all he could make out was the neat swirl at the top of her head, round and oddly appealing. Those slim, pale hands gripped the certificate like a vise, completely bloodless. Milford asked offhandedly, "So, what's the marriage license for?" "Oh, I just want to bring it home and store it there," Stella shot back, pulling an excuse out of thin air. Milford's stare felt like it enveloped her, the heat of it almost scorching, though he kept his hands to himself. Then he casually adjusted his cufflinks and turned to go. Stella let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, sagging against the cool cabinet. Her thigh still tingled with warmth from his grip; she quickly smoothed her skirt down, tucked the license into her bag, and only left the room once everything looked undisturbed. Bradly was still out in the back garden, deep in conversation. Stella kept her face neutral, strolling over to stand at his side. A few relatives were chatting with him. "Hey, word is Milford actually got back a couple days ago, but only tipped us off today." Bradly looked taken aback. "I thought he was flying in today?" "Nope, sounds like he hit up some auction. I only heard bits and pieces, supposedly the other night at the Empire Auction House." "He must not have gone. I was there that evening too, and I didn't see him anywhere," Bradly said, frowning in confusion. Stella's eyelashes flickered subtly, but she played it cool. Out of nowhere, her mind jumped back to that enigmatic bidder in suite 217. She wondered, 'Could Milford be the mystery guest who got the bracelet for me?' She shoved the thought down as soon as it surfaced. They'd only crossed paths once, total strangers really, connected by the flimsiest in-law tie. No matter how you sliced it, Milford wouldn't stick his neck out for her. Just like Bradly said, he hadn't caught wind of anything, so it couldn't be Milford. Stella let it go. After some more mingling, the group started to break up. Bradly steered her over to bid farewell to Milford. "Mom, Milford, we're taking off. Let's set up a family dinner soon when things settle." Milford slouched back in his chair with effortless nonchalance and gave a nod. "I'm knee-deep in an acquisition, no hurry on the get-together. But you..." He lifted his head, his expression sharpening. "Keep your life on the straight and narrow. Don't veer off track." The edge of warning in his voice was crystal clear. Bradly had grown up overshadowed by Milford; he went rigid but brushed it off casually. "Come on, everything's good. My company's running smooth as ever. If you're skeptical, drop by anytime and pore over the financials—knock yourself out." "It's not just about the company," Milford said softly, eyes down as he savored a sip of coffee. Stella couldn't help stealing a glance at him, and in that instant, a ridiculous idea struck her. From what Bradly had mentioned, Milford was abroad most of the time but still had the inside scoop on everything back home. She wondered, 'Does he know about the shady stuff Bradly is up to on the sly?' "Milford, I hear you. I'll make sure to nurture my marriage with Stella, our whole life together." Bradly grinned, threading his fingers through Stella's. Milford's gaze lingered on their joined hands for a second before drifting away, sealed with a subtle nod. Stella had no desire for any more close contact with Bradly, so she subtly shook his hand free without thinking. A split second later, his disbelieving stare locked onto her face, and he tried to grab her again. She'd known her move would humiliate him in the moment, so she didn't bother saying goodbye to Milford. She just turned and walked out ahead. Once they slid into the car, Bradly shed his polite, deferential mask from earlier, reverting to his entitled rich-kid swagger. He tugged his tie loose, a flicker of annoyance pinching his brows. "Always playing the big-brother card to chew me out, same crap since we were little. "So what if he's crushing it overseas? I'm holding my own just fine back home. Who in Ostralver would even think about messing with me?" Bradly fished out a menthol cigarette on autopilot, ready to light up, but he caught himself after glancing at Stella and shoved it back. He said, "All these years, folks have been whispering, or saying it straight to my face, that my company's thriving because of his pull. Like he's behind every damn thing. "And you? You flat-out refused to let me hold your hand back there. Trying to make me look like an idiot in front of him?" His expression iced over, the edge in his voice impossible to miss. Stella's frown deepened as she took it in. Even without knowing Milford all that well, she understood that Bradly's cocky antics in Ostralver, brushing people off like they were nothing, had always been propped up by Milford's clout. She'd assumed the brothers were tight, but clearly Bradly's respect was just for show; underneath, his grudge against Milford simmered deep. She could overlook a lot, but with things the way they were now, there was zero point in him putting on that phony hand-holding act. Stella gripped her bag, the one with the marriage license inside, and couldn't bite her tongue. "We haven't held hands in forever. It feels off to me." The car went dead quiet. She was right. Their physical closeness had dwindled so much that even she couldn't pinpoint the last time. Bradly's brow creased, and he snapped the cigarette filter clean off between his fingers. "What was that?" Stella met his eyes steadily. "From here on out, let's skip the pointless touchy-feely stuff. It just doesn't sit right." She hadn't even finished when the brakes screeched harshly. The car lurched to a halt on the empty shoulder of the road. Stella almost smacked into the window from the force, her pulse hammering as she barked, "Are you out of your mind?" Bradly loomed over her, fingers digging into her chin, irritation boiling in his glare. "Stella, do you have any idea what you're saying?" The pinch stung like crazy, and the absurdity of it all hit her as she wrestled to shove him off. "Is it not true? When's the last time we even held hands. Can you remember?" Bradly's gaze turned stormy, like she'd struck a raw spot. "I bet you're hung up on Milford, just like that girl from the second branch. That's why you pulled away in front of him. You're trying to cut ties with me?" "Bradly! What the hell are you babbling about?" Anger surged through her as she pushed harder. "Don't you dare pin your gross history on me!" The way the family had orbited Milford like he was the sun had obviously gotten under his skin. The more she resisted, the darker his look grew. Abruptly, he leaned in and smashed his mouth against hers. Stella's eyes flew wide, her head whipping aside to evade as she hammered at his shoulders with everything she had. He'd locked lips with Shanna god knows how often. The thought turned her stomach, so she clamped down and bit him hard. Bradly yelped in pain, jerking back as the fog cleared and he clocked what he'd just done, regret flashing across his face. Blood dotted his lip, but he brushed it off, lunging to wrap her in his arms. "I'm sorry, Stella, baby, I'm so sorry. I screwed up; it was a stupid impulse..." Drained of energy, Stella sagged into the passenger seat, letting him hold her while a barren wave of emptiness and revulsion washed over her. The hug she'd once melted into now repulsed her to her core. "Get off me." Her voice came out rough and scratchy. "Bradly, don't push me to hating you."
Chapter 1 Don't Want Him Anymore "I'm sorry, ma'am." On the other end of the line, the insurance customer service rep said coolly, "After checking our records, the car owner, Mr. Woodard, is indeed married, but the spouse listed here isn't you." Stella Daniels had gotten into a car accident on her way to the Woodard Group headquarters. She couldn't get through to Bradly Woodard on his phone, so she had no choice but to call the insurance company. The car was registered in Bradly's name, but as his wife, she should be able to process the claim too. "When Mr. Woodard picked up the car, he came with his wife and provided the original marriage license. Her last name is Erickson, and her full name is Shanna Erickson," the rep said. It hit Stella like a slap in the face. Dizziness washed over her in waves, leaving her whole body shaking uncontrollably. She and Bradly had been childhood sweethearts. Their families were old friends, and everyone in Ostralver's high society knew how clingy he was with her. Bradly couldn't stand being apart from her even for a single day. Three years ago, when Stella headed abroad for her studies, Bradly had the plane stopped just for her. During her three years in Ensland, he expanded his business overseas to make it easier to look after her. Sixteen thousand miles apart, he'd still fly across the ocean every week to see her. The year she came down with a severe lung illness and nearly didn't pull through, she spent a week in intensive care. Bradly ignored the infection risks and stayed right by her side, sliding a ring onto her finger. He said, "If anything happens to you, I'll go with you. We'll be husband and wife in the next life too." For Bradly's sake, she turned down her mentor's offer to stay on in the lab and headed back home. Brimming with excitement, she went to find him, planning to surprise him. But when she pushed open the door to the CEO's office, she saw a slender, pretty woman straddling his lap. The woman's innocent face tilted upward, her voice whiny and aggrieved. "Mr. Woodard, what happens to me now that Stella is back?" Bradly sat in his executive chair, his tall frame looming over her. A flash of ruthlessness crossed his stern features. "You? You're just her stand-in. Don't forget your place." He lifted his hand, pinching her delicate chin with a sneer. "Barely a three-out-of-ten resemblance, and you think you can compare to her?" Stella was still clutching the gift she'd prepared for him. With a loud "bang," it dropped to the floor, finally breaking the scene in the office. Bradly's face drained of color as he shoved the woman off and jumped to his feet. That woman was Shanna. After Stella caught them in the act, Bradly fired Shanna on the spot and pulled out all the stops to win her back. Bradly, the arrogant prince of Ostralver's elite circles, humbled himself to the dust before her, begging her to give him another chance. Any project she set her sights on, he'd drop without a second thought. He stood in the pouring rain outside her building for over a week, just for a glimpse of her. He said, "Stella, I'm not asking you to forgive me. At least let me explain. "I only ever saw Shanna as your replacement. You've been gone abroad for so long; I missed you terribly. I swear, I just kept her around. Nothing more ever happened between us. "That time you walked in, I'd had too much to drink, and she deliberately tempted me. I lost control for a moment... "I've already let her go, and she won't show up in our lives again. Stella, please, come back to me." Back then, Stella couldn't stand even the slightest betrayal. She insisted on breaking off the engagement. Until that one incident. She was kidnapped by a business rival. The kidnappers reneged on the deal, tied her up in an abandoned factory, and set the place ablaze. Bradly charged into the flames without a second thought to rescue her, shielding her from a collapsing steel beam. He ended up gravely injured, confined to bed for nearly six months. By risking his life, Bradly finally melted her resolve. Once he was out of the hospital, she accepted his proposal, and they threw a lavish wedding. In the two years since they tied the knot, he'd treated her just as devotedly as ever, with zero scandals. He even imposed a strict curfew on himself, heading home right on time every day. Even on out-of-town business trips, he'd video call her constantly. His partners would tease him about being henpecked. He never denied it. Instead, he'd grin proudly and say, "A real man takes care of his family." Memories rushed through Stella's mind like a whirlwind, every past moment flashing by in a blur. Her legs buckled, and she dropped to her knees, burying her face in her hands. She couldn't figure out which Bradly was the real one anymore. A bitter, mocking gleam sparked in her eyes. She thought, 'How absurd.' She'd been his wife for two years, and only now was she learning that even their marriage license had been a sham. Stella scrubbed her face hard, her bangs already soaked with cold sweat. She ignored the other driver's furious yelling and calmly dialed the police. They showed up fast. After finishing her statement, Stella left the station under a sky that had gone completely dark. Her phone lit up with several missed calls from Bradly. When she hadn't answered, he'd sent texts instead. Bradly: [Babe, I was tied up in a key meeting this afternoon. Signal jammers were on, so I missed your call. You okay?] Bradly: [I've got a client dinner tonight, so I'll be late getting home. I double-checked: no women involved, so no need to worry.] Bradly: [Head to bed early. Don't wait up. Love you.] Stella stared at the screen, a sharp wave of irony twisting in her gut. Bradly didn't stagger in until the wee hours. He reeked of alcohol, which almost, but not quite, masked the subtle whiff of perfume on him. "Honey..." He could barely keep his balance, stumbling over to wrap his arms around her through the blanket. "I missed you so damn much..." Stella didn't say a word. Only once he was dead to the world did she sit up quietly and unlock his phone with his fingerprint. The thing was squeaky clean, no suspicious traces at all. His contacts were mostly buddies and business folks, with hers pinned at the top as "Darling Wife." Flawlessly tidy, just like their sham of a marriage. Stella hooked the phone up to her computer, and it didn't take long to uncover his second WhatsApp account. She signed in, and right away, messages popped up from a profile with a cute pink kitten avatar, labeled "Baby." Shanna: [Bradly, thanks for tonight. Without you, I wouldn't have known what to do.] Shanna: [I've always thought meeting you was the luckiest thing that's ever happened to me. I won't intrude on your life. As long as you swing by to see me once in a while, that's enough to make me happy.] Stella scrolled back through the history. She'd suspected as much, but seeing it all laid out still hit her like a punch to the chest, leaving her breathless. They chatted nearly every day. Shanna never missed a good morning message, and Bradly's replies had shifted over time, from total silence at first, to sporadic responses, and now to answering every single one. A chill spread through her. Stella clutched the phone tighter, knowing she should quit while she was ahead but unable to stop herself from digging deeper. Shanna: [Bradly, sorry, I had a few drinks and lost it for a bit. Doc says I'm okay now, so don't stress.] Shanna: [Mrs. Woodard's birthday bash is important. Go enjoy it with her. I'll be fine.] Stella squeezed her eyes shut as the memory came rushing back. Her birthday. Bradly had spent over a month planning it down to the last detail, but that day, he was totally distracted. Hell, he almost cut his own hand while slicing the cake. When she'd asked what was up, he'd brushed it off as work drama, told her not to worry, then pulled her into a soft embrace and encouraged her to blow out the candles and make a wish. It all made sense now, as she stared at this chat log. That same day, Shanna had tried to kill herself by slashing her wrists and ended up in the ER. A sour bitterness flooded her chest like a rising tide. In those brief seconds when she'd closed her eyes to wish, she wondered, 'Was he agonizing over Shanna in the hospital, or picturing endless years together with her?' Stella knew she didn't need an answer to that anymore. She gently placed the phone back and looked down at Bradly, fast asleep beside her. She'd known him since she was four, and for the twenty years that followed, she'd truly believed his love was hers alone, irreplaceable. But now she saw it for what it was: just cheap free samples at a store, handed out to anyone who walked by. If that was all it amounted to, she was done with it. Chapter 2 Bid Against Her The next day, Stella woke to find Bradly busy in the kitchen, his broad shoulders narrowing to a slim waist, his tall, lean build moving with purpose. The sight hit her hard, a dull ache tightening in her chest. Bradly had learned to cook entirely for her sake. She still remembered that turbulent period when the Woodard Group was in crisis. His rivals had targeted her, paying off a servant to poison her food. She'd been unconscious for three full days. When she finally woke, Bradly was there, his eyes red-rimmed and veined with exhaustion, gripping her hand like a lifeline. The instant she stirred, the imposing Bradly crumbled forward, enveloping her in a hug as scalding tears fell onto her skin. From then on, Bradly threw himself into cooking lessons, taking charge of all her meals. In less than a month, he'd gone from a spoiled elite who couldn't distinguish spices to turning out dishes worthy of a Michelin chef. Just then, his phone rang. Stella glanced at it but made no move to answer. Bradly darted out of the kitchen, apron still on, grabbing the phone with a barely concealed flash of anxiety. Stella pretended not to notice and went to wash up. When she came back, the table was set with breakfast, and he was slipping into his suit jacket from the coat rack. Seeing her, he said gently, "There's an emergency at work. I have to run. Sorry I can't join you for breakfast." Stella murmured, "Sure, work comes first." He was clearly in a hurry, because he didn't pick up on the new edge of cool distance in her tone and rushed out. She stared blankly after him until he was gone, then dumped the entire spread into the trash. Then she picked up her phone and dialed a number. "That offer you made before? I'm on board." The person on the other end erupted in delight, chattering away before shifting to broken Andosa Language. "Stella, why the sudden change of heart? I've bugged you about this so many times, and you always said you were married now and focusing on family." A mocking glint flickered in Stella's eyes. She thought, 'Married? This so-called marriage has been dead on arrival.' The caller was her former mentor from her overseas studies. He'd reached out lately, hoping she'd join his new team and spearhead a major project. At the time, she'd kept saying no out of loyalty to Bradly. Now, she only wished she'd seen through the absurd joke of their marriage earlier. After the call, she contacted immigration to schedule a passport renewal. It would take about a week. But before heading out, she had one loose end to tie up. That evening, Stella showed up at a private auction at the Cloud Hotel. She was after one of her mother's keepsakes. Her mom had died when she was eight, and soon after, the Daniels family had liquidated her wedding gift. Stella had been hunting down the items ever since. Over the years, she'd only reclaimed a few. Tonight's auction featured a bracelet from that collection, one her mother had picked up on a trip to Ijance. It was utterly unique, irreplaceable. Whatever it took, she was getting it back. Stella settled into her seat just as the auction was about to start. She was flipping through the catalog when Bradly's voice floated over. "Didn't I already pick out that royal blue sapphire set for you? Not good enough?" His voice carried that familiar tenderness. Shanna linked her arm with his, pouting playfully. "Your taste sucks! I want to pick my own birthday gift." Stella watched them quietly until Bradly threaded through the guests and their gazes collided by chance. The color drained from his face. On pure reflex, he jerked his arm away from Shanna. "Stella." He strode over quickly. "I tried calling you a few times, but you didn't answer. Were you planning to surprise me?" Even though he tried to play it cool, she could still catch that subtle hint of panic in his expression. Stella didn't bother calling him on it, replying evenly, "My phone was on silent. I didn't hear it." Bradly visibly relaxed, casually taking her hand in his with a look of concern. "Your hands are like ice. Didn't I warn you about the cold snap today? You're always putting style over staying warm. If you catch a chill, you know it'll just kill me." As he talked, he signaled a server for a blanket and draped it snugly around her shoulders. Stella kept a straight face, brushing him off as she looked past him to Shanna, who lingered behind with a scowl. Shanna nibbled her lip, then defiantly dropped into the seat next to Bradly, her gaze simmering with irritation. Bradly leaned closer, dropping his voice to explain, "We just wrapped up a major project at the company, and Shanna pulled her weight big time. Her birthday's around the corner, so I thought I'd treat her to something as a project bonus." He eyed her anxiously. "Stella, you're not mad, right?" Shanna piped up in a soft, vulnerable tone. "Mrs. Woodard, if this upsets you, I'll just go. I don't want to get in the way of you and Mr. Woodard." Stella's mouth quirked into a smile that never touched her eyes. "We're married. A little thing like this? Of course it doesn't bother me." The auction got underway shortly after. Bradly treated Shanna like she was invisible, focusing entirely on Stella. He paged through the catalog, throwing in bids left and right. "Babe, this would look amazing on you." He grinned, tenderly brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his tone warm and intimate. "You'd be gorgeous in it." Stella averted her eyes, but out of the corner of her vision, she saw Shanna discreetly clutching the edge of Bradly's jacket in the dim light. Their gazes locked for a split second in a shared, lingering look. She masked the derision in her own eyes, struck by how absurd it all was. Bradly seemed totally at ease juggling both women, convinced he was keeping things balanced, one with the official status, the other with his undivided public attention. She thought, 'What could be fairer than that?' But Stella had never been interested in that kind of equilibrium. Her world extended far beyond romance. Bradly? He was just a small detour on her path, a misstep she'd own up to. And now, it was time to set things right. "Next up: a string of bracelet. Fine-grained texture, deep aroma that lingers. Starting bid at 170,000 dollars, with increments of at least 20,000 dollars!" The auctioneer's pumped-up voice echoed through the room. Finally, Stella's main target for the evening. Bids flew in fast, the screen flickering with updates as the auctioneer called out, "Number 17 lady at 200,000 dollars! Number 9 gentleman ups it to 260,000 dollars! Going higher?" Once the initial frenzy tapered off, Stella lifted her paddle. "500,000 dollars." She'd doubled the current bid in one go. It was a hefty amount. Sure, the bracelet was top-notch, but it wasn't the auction's highlight. The room went quiet after her call; no one countered. "Fantastic! Number 11 lady at 500,000 dollars! "500,000 dollars once! 500,000 dollars twice!" The auctioneer hoisted his gavel, poised to bring it down. "No more bids? Then 500,000 dollars—" "520,000 dollars," A gentle, hesitant voice interrupted. Shanna shrank against Bradly's side, paddle in hand, murmuring timidly to him, "Is this where I put in the amount?" Chapter 3 You're Dirty Stella frowned and raised her bid. "540,000 dollars." But Shanna was right behind her, countering with, "560,000 dollars." How annoyingly precise, each time, she stuck to the bare minimum, slapping on just 20,000 dollars more than Stella's offer. Shanna turned toward her, her voice dripping with plea. "Stella, you've got plenty of jewelry already. Please, let me have this one. I adore it. "I'm not like you, born with money, everything handed to you on a silver platter. You snap your fingers and get whatever you want. If it goes any higher, I really won't be able to keep up." Stella didn't bother looking at her, just quirking her lips in a thin smile. "Isn't Mr. Woodard covering the cost for you? What are you stressing about?" Shanna's face went a shade paler, but she answered in that soft, demure tone, "Even so, Mr. Woodard earns his money the hard way. If I can save him a bit, I ought to." She was the epitome of considerate and caring. After several more back-and-forth bids, the bracelet's price had soared to 700,000 dollars. Stella let out a chilly scoff and was opening her mouth to up the ante when Bradly beat her to it. He said, "Babe, why don't we just let Shanna take this bracelet?" Stella's fingers curled into a tight fist, her nails biting into her palm. She lifted her gaze, any lingering warmth in her eyes turning to ice. "What did you just say?" Bradly let out a resigned sigh, giving her hand a comforting pat as he murmured gently, "Babe, I already told Shanna she'd get a gift tonight, and she's got her heart set on this one. No need to compete with her. "Plus, I've already snagged you a handful of other pieces. Isn't that plenty?" He said it all lightly, teasingly, as if it were nothing more than a harmless quip. Stella shut her eyes, a nameless sourness creeping along her nerves, coiling around her heart until it felt like she couldn't draw a breath. Given Shanna's modest background, 700,000 dollars was way out of her league. She wouldn't even make the guest list here on her own. The only reason she was in that seat, trading bids blow for blow, was Bradly's backing. His pampering had delivered her straight into Stella's path. Stella whispered, "What if I refuse to back down?" She hoisted her paddle once more, her voice echoing through the room. "1 million dollars." A hush blanketed the hall. The auctioneer clearly picked up on the drama, his delivery faltering. "Number eleven at 1 million dollars. Do I hear higher?" Shanna's eyes welled up, on the verge of tears, as she cast a helpless look at Bradly before tacking on another fifty thousand. "1 million 20 thousand dollars." Stella's features hardened to frost, and she was poised to fire back when the manager bustled over, bending close to murmur, "Mrs. Woodard, apologies. We ran a credit verification on your account, and it's frozen. Got another one we can use?" The words slammed into her like a bolt from the blue, ringing in her ears. She snapped her head toward Bradly, but he'd already looked away. An icy numbness spread through her arms and legs. She though,t 'Of course, it has to be him.' Her primary account was linked with his; besides her, only he could authorize a freeze on her cards. Triumph flickered in Shanna's eyes as she added with a pointed edge, "Well, in that case, Mrs. Woodard, maybe it's time to step aside. You've got so much already. Can't you let me have this one little thing?" Up on stage, the auction rolled on, the display frozen on Shanna's latest bid: 1 million 20 thousand dollars. Shanna could hardly hide her glee, chirping sweetly, "Go on, call it!" But the words had barely left her lips when someone announced he would bid for the lot at any costs right in the second-floor VIP suite. After a momentary silence, the room burst into chaos. "He's declared absolute intent!" Even the auctioneer's expression changed. He'd been in the game for over a decade, but this was his first encounter with such a scenario. He hurriedly called out, "Lot number six goes to the gentleman in box 217, regardless of how high the price goes." Anyone up in those second-floor VIP suites was either swimming in money or held serious sway in Ostralver's upper crust. Stella glanced upward toward the source of the voice, catching only a vague outline behind the draped curtains. Even when she couldn't see his face, the man's crossed-legged posture radiated an unspoken dominance that pressed down on the room. The auctioneer slammed his gavel down with finality, proclaiming, "Congratulations to our esteemed guest in box 217 on winning lot number six! You're now upgraded to black gold status!" Across all of Ostralver's elite scene, fewer than a handful had ever hit black gold level at these events. Stella wondered, 'Just who is this mystery man?' Stella loosened her clenched fist slightly, torn between relief that her mother's heirloom hadn't landed in Shanna's clutches and anxiety over reclaiming it from this unknown figure. No matter what, she'd stop at nothing, pay any price, to bring her mother's possession home. She rose to her feet, intent on marching over to box 217 for a chat, when the attendant who'd just ducked inside reappeared, tray in hand with the bracelet. "What's this? The bidder in 217 having second thoughts?" "Auctions don't do take-backs." "Probably short on funds. I called it. No one's done this here before." As the murmurs swirled, the attendant headed straight for Stella, dipping into a courteous bow with a warm smile. She said, "Mrs. Woodard, the gentleman in box 217 requests that I deliver the bracelet to you as a gift. He wishes for you to follow your true path and for all to unfold as it should." The place erupted in gossip once more, with guests shooting glances her way, some envious, others skeptical, many flat-out stunned. "Isn't that Mrs. Woodard? What's her deal with the upstairs guy?" "Likely just buttering up Mr. Woodard." "Nah, I don't buy it. Out of all the goodies tonight, why zero in on those beads for Mrs. Woodard? Sounds like she's got a real connection there." The buzz filtered through, and Bradly's face turned stone-cold. In a tight, edged voice, he demanded, "Stella, what's the story with you and whoever's in box 217?" Stella held his piercing stare and said flatly, "I have no idea who he is." "!" Bradly jumped up, clamping down on her wrist like a vice. Her soft, fair skin reddened almost instantly under the pressure. Stella winced sharply, jerking her arm back on reflex. "Bradly, have you lost your mind? Haven't you stirred up enough drama for one day?" But he barreled on, blind to her fury, his reddened eyes locked on her as if he could swallow her up. "What's really between you two? "Stella, through all our married years, I've bent over backward for you. Anything you desired, I served it up without question. Why would you betray me like this?" In his mind, it was already a done deal: she was entangled in something shady with the man above. If the guy was angling for a favor from him, Bradly would've recognized him right away. People in Ostralver didn't beat around the bush when they needed something from him. They came direct. The jab landed raw and direct. Bradly blinked, frozen for a beat as a flicker of alarm shot through his eyes. Chapter 4 Don't Know You'd Come Bradly said, "I'm sorry, Stella. I didn't mean it like that. I had no right getting jealous over you and some stranger. It's all on me." Bradly's eyes reddened. "But honestly, there's nothing going on between Shanna and me. I just brought her along as a thank-you. Can you let this slide?" Seeing his cue, Shanna ducked her head meekly, her voice catching. "That's right, Mrs. Woodard. I've been bending over backward to keep my distance from Mr. Woodard so you wouldn't get the wrong impression. "I'm not asking for the world, just a decent birthday gift. I didn't grow up with your advantages; you've had everything handed to you and even snagged a catch like Mr. Woodard. Can't I at least pick out something for myself?" "Just a gift, huh?" Stella closed in on her, one step at a time. "Ms. Erickson, I've never given a damn about this 'gift' you're going on about. What gets under my skin is you, a Woodard Group employee, crossing lines you have no business crossing." As they drew closer, Bradly instinctively stepped in front of Shanna, his voice soft and coaxing. "Stella, if it's bugging you this much, I'll transfer her to a branch office once the auction's over. "But for now, cut me some slack. Let Shanna have the bracelet. When we get home, name your price on anything, and it's yours." Shanna bobbed her head in agreement, tears glistening on her lashes as she pleaded, "Stella, I really adore this bracelet. You've got it all already. Why go after the one thing I want? "Or is this just because you hate my guts and can't resist taking shots at me?" "What makes you think I'd ever like you?" Stella let out a cold snort. "This belonged to me from the start. Why the hell would I give it up?" She took the bracelet from the attendant with casual ease, her smile sharp but empty. "Ms. Erickson, know your place." Her refusal to budge finally wore through Bradly's patience, erasing every bit of softness from his face. "Stella, do you have to humiliate me like this in front of everyone? Where does that leave my dignity? "It's just a crappy old bracelet. Am I really worth less to you than some trinket?" He said it with such conviction, as if he'd wiped from his memory the solemn vow he'd made when proposing: that he'd hunt down every single one of her mother's sold-off keepsakes, no matter what. Stella's hand flew up, delivering a resounding slap across his cheek. The sharp crack rang out, pulling shocked stares from every corner of the room. Bradly's head snapped sideways, his face livid as he fixed her with a glare, his words hissing through clenched teeth. "Stella, drop the drama already. Have I pampered you too much these days, turning you into this unreasonable nightmare?" Stella reined in her temper, keeping her tone even. "Bradly, you better not live to regret today." Without another word, she turned and walked out, not sparing a backward glance. As her figure receded, Shanna gently touched the angry red mark on Bradly's cheek, her voice full of worry. "Mr. Woodard, are you okay? "Stella's got no boundaries. How could she hit you with all these people watching?" Bradly swatted her hand aside, his nails digging into his palm as he stared after her retreating path. "I've spoiled her rotten, letting her forget that everything she has comes from me." Shanna peeked at his changing expression, testing the waters. "Mr. Woodard, about the bracelet..." Bradly rubbed his throbbing cheek, pulled a bank card from his pocket, and handed it over. "1.7 million dollars on there. Buy whatever catches your eye." Box 217, Stella rapped on the door, eager to thank the mystery bidder face-to-face. Silence. She caught a server walking by. "Excuse me, any idea where the gentleman from this box headed?" "He slipped out right after nabbing the last item," the server said. Disappointment flashed in her eyes, but Stella pressed on, "Do you know who he was?" The server gave her a regretful smile. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard, we're not allowed to spill on our VIPs. Don't make this harder for us." Catching herself, Stella moved out of the way. "Thanks all the same." By the time she made it home from the auction, an hour had ticked by. Stella went straight up to the study, fired up the computer, and dove into the assets registered under her and Bradly's names. After tallying up the numbers, she snatched her phone, found lawyer Rubin Cobb's contact, and hit dial. She said, "I've sorted out the asset division documents for me and Bradly and sent them over. I need you to handle the property split by tomorrow." Rubin quickly received the files and nodded respectfully. "Of course, Mrs. Woodard. I'll get right on it." Stella stared intently at her computer screen, her grip tightening on the mouse. "If Bradly's committed bigamy, how should our assets be divided?" "Generally, any property the bigamous party gained through the bigamy can be claimed back by the other spouse," Rubin replied matter-of-factly. Half of Bradly's current wealth had come from Stella's investments to support his career early on. Her expression darkened, and she promptly forwarded the marriage license between him and Shanna. "Rubin, please use every legal avenue to recover my half of the assets." After hanging up, Stella slumped back in her chair, utterly drained physically and emotionally. She closed her eyes slowly, but sleep was nowhere in sight. Bradly would never agree to a divorce. Until she had everything locked down, she couldn't let on that anything was amiss. Just then, the study door was kicked open from the outside. Bradly flung his jacket onto the desk and yanked Stella up from her seat in front of the computer. "Do you realize that because of your little outburst, I've become a laughingstock in our circles? "What exactly do you want? Are you still obsessing over what happened back then?" Stella opened her eyes slowly, her gaze settling calmly on Bradly, but she remained silent. A fire raged in Bradly's chest, intensifying by the second, and he couldn't hold back his fury any longer. "Since we got married, have I ever done anything to wrong you? I come home right on time every night after work, I always fill you in on any business dinners, and if there's even a hint of a woman involved, I skip them entirely! I've bent over backward, and it's still not good enough for you?" He remembered every detail crystal clear. In his mind, these were the sacrifices he'd made to marry her. Stella suddenly found the whole thing absurd. She couldn't bear to look at him anymore, so she stood up and walked straight out of the study without a backward glance. Behind her, Bradly's voice echoed heavily. "Stella, no matter what you think, my conscience is clear." It felt like Stella's heart had been shattered into icy fragments, a sharp, bitter pain surging through her. Her mind buzzed, and for a moment, all she could hear was that phrase repeating over and over. She thought, 'My conscience is clear? So, in his eyes, everything he's done is perfectly justifiable.' The next morning, when Stella woke up, Bradly was already gone. On the table sat the breakfast he'd prepared, tailored exactly to her tastes. Stella pressed her lips together, her feelings a complicated tangle. They'd ended things on a sour note last night, yet Bradly had still made her breakfast this morning. But this was the same man who'd lied to her for years. No matter what, it was time to end things with Bradly. She didn't touch the food and headed straight to the office. These past few years, she'd stayed out of Bradly's business dealings. A lot of her old financial records were outdated now, and she needed the latest reports. The secretary looked startled when she saw her, then managed to say, "Mrs. Woodard, are you here to see Mr. Woodard?" "No." Stella replied evenly. "Send the finance manager in to see me." Her shares were second only to Bradly's, giving her full access to every aspect of the company. The secretary hesitated briefly before nodding. Stella noticed her immediately turning to make a phone call, probably alerting Bradly. Stella didn't intervene; let her. She settled into the finance office, sipping her coffee absentmindedly while flipping through magazines on the shelf. Most were glossy entertainment rags, mixed in with novels and comics. Stella frowned, only now picking up on the details: the desk was covered in a pink plaid mat, cluttered with adorable plush toys. The standout pair was a set of couple dolls, their outfits emblazoned with the letters W and E. It hit Stella suddenly what that meant, and just then, the door behind her swung open. Shanna rushed in. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard." She was clutching a cup of coffee as she apologized. "I had no idea you'd drop by like this..." Chapter 5 All For Milford Stella arched an eyebrow as she looked her over. "So you're the finance manager?" Shanna nodded with a quick smile. "That's me. If you need anything at all, just say the word. Bradly, well, Mr. Woodard is tied up in a meeting right now. But don't worry, I'll make sure to relay whatever message you have." Stella let out a soft laugh. "No need for that." She regarded Shanna with clear curiosity. "I'm not looking for Bradly. I'm here to see you." Shanna's smile faltered for a moment before she recovered, her tone turning gentle. "Mrs. Woodard, I get that you're still bothered by what went down at the auction last night, but there's no reason to be so worked up about my connection to Mr. Woodard. After all..." She raised her hand, the elegant diamond ring on her finger glinting under the light, perfectly complementing her bashful grin. "I'm already married, and things are great between me and my husband." Stella's eyes locked on the ring, her breath hitching just for an instant. It was ridiculous. In this whole messed-up situation, she was the one playing the role of the mistress. The ring was an exact match for the one Bradly had given her during his proposal. But within seconds, Stella averted her gaze. "It's a lovely ring, but you're mistaken." She spoke unhurriedly, "I'm just here to grab the latest financial report from you. That's all." Stella caught the sour shift in Shanna's expression and smiled to herself. "Seems like you're the one on edge here, Ms. Erickson." Shanna's face transformed completely, that smug spark in her eyes snuffed out. She bit her lip, unable to find words for a long beat. Stella watched her with unruffled poise. "Do I need to repeat my request, Ms. Erickson?" The words had barely left her mouth when Bradly burst in, his expression clouding over at the sight. "Stella, wasn't the scene from last night enough?" His voice was laced with ice. "How long are you planning to drag this out? I've told you already. There's nothing going on between me and Shanna. If you don't believe me..." Stella interrupted him mid-sentence, "Oh, I believe you. Absolutely." A faint smirk tugged at her lips, though her eyes remained frosty as they settled on Shanna. "After all, Ms. Erickson's already married. She just mentioned it herself." The statement landed like a bomb. Shanna's face drained of color, and Bradly's followed suit. He shot her a withering glare. Tears sprang to Shanna's eyes in an instant. Stella had no interest in watching the drama unfold any further. She said evenly, "I'm here for this year's financials. I hold forty percent of the company. Surely I can access that, right?" Bradly seemed to snap back to reality, nodding hastily. "Of course you can." He barked orders at the secretary to fetch it immediately, all the while stealing wary glances at her face. Once he confirmed she wasn't giving anything away, he exhaled almost imperceptibly in relief. He said, "Stella, what's with the sudden interest? You've never bothered with company matters before." Stella answered coolly, "After the account freeze last night, I decided it's smarter to set up a separate one." Bradly's expression froze again. "Stella..." The secretary returned promptly with the report. Stella brushed Bradly aside, skimmed through it quickly, and was heading for the door when he caught her by the wrist. He said, "Stella, about the family dinner tonight, are you coming home with me?" His tone was pleading, like he needed her answer to reassure himself that she hadn't caught on to anything fishy. Stella didn't look back, just replying calmly, "Sure." Bradly's face lit up. "Great, I'll swing by after work to pick you up." Stella dropped her gaze, masking the cool detachment in her eyes. She'd only agreed to head back to the family estate for one specific reason. The marriage license from when she and Bradly had tied the knot was a phony, but he'd made a whole production out of stashing it away at the house, claiming it had to be kept secure. Nothing could serve as stronger proof. Once she got her hands on it, his bigamy would be ironclad. Stella didn't bother waiting for Bradly; she hailed a cab and got there ahead of time. She'd figured it was just a standard family gathering, but she was caught off guard by the full turnout. Bradly's parents, fresh from their overseas vacation last week, were back, and even the distant relatives from the Woodard family's side branches had shown up en masse. "Stella, dear." As she walked in, Nadine Woodard peered over her shoulder. "Bradly didn't come with you?" Stella answered evenly, "He'll be along shortly." Nadine clicked her tongue, her irritation obvious. "On an important occasion like this, letting someone from outside the family arrive solo, what's got into him?" Stella's brow furrowed just a touch. She and Bradly had been engaged since childhood, but after her mother's passing, the Daniels family's status had tanked while the Woodard family kept climbing. That was when Nadine started pushing to scrap the arrangement, and she'd mentioned it more than a few times. But Chuck Woodard was upright and principled, flat-out refusing to play the social-climbing game. With Bradly dead set on marrying her and no one else, Nadine had reluctantly given in, though she made her resentment clear. Even after the marriage, she never passed up an opportunity to give Stella the cold shoulder. She was about to add something else when the butler rushed in and murmured, "He's here." Nadine promptly dropped the subject with Stella and jumped to her feet, the extended family hustling out right behind her to welcome the arrivals. The level of pomp surprised Stella. The Woodard family was already at the top of Ostralver's social elite. For them to pull out all the stops like this... Standing at the edge of the group, Stella glanced up and saw a black Maybach rolling up to the front of the estate. Someone hurried forward to open the door respectfully, and a tall, imposing figure stepped out unhurriedly. The man wore a sleek black suit, his chiseled features sharp, eyes as midnight, radiating a fierce intensity. Every gesture exuded a natural poise and authority that made it tough to hold his stare. The crowd swarmed forward in a rush, but he stayed cool and detached the whole time, his stunningly handsome face as impassive as carved ice, showing zero emotion. Then, as if picking up on something, he looked up toward Stella. Their eyes locked unexpectedly, sending her heart pounding. It was Milford Woodard, Bradly's brother. He'd returned to the country. Though they were brothers in name, Milford wasn't all that tight with the family. He'd headed overseas young and had spent years growing the business abroad. His father Edward Woodard was a total lightweight, good only at spending cash, not earning it. His grandpa Chuck had the smarts and drive, but age was catching up, leaving him unable to manage it all. Real power over the Woodard family had shifted to Milford ages ago. Stella let out a quiet breath. She thought, 'That explains the big crowd today. They've all turned out for Milford.' Chapter 6 Need Help? Stella lingered in the corner of the living room, watching the relatives descend like a swarm of locusts, all scrambling to surround Milford. Bradly stood next to Nadine, flashing a polished smile as he greeted, "Hey, Milford." The uncles who'd been buttering up Bradly just a minute ago quickly switched gears, beaming with over-the-top enthusiasm as they stepped up to say hello. "Milford, what prompted the sudden return?" "Milford, I hear you're in the middle of acquiring a domestic company? You're just getting more impressive by the day." "Come on inside, take a seat. We've got some top-shelf coffee." Bradly caught the stark contrast in the uncles' warmth, his smile fading briefly before he pulled it together and led the way forward. Stella quietly eyed the tall, strikingly handsome Milford striding into the living room like the star of the show, instinctively edging back a step. Now fully pushed to the fringes of the crowd, she shifted aside to let the trailing group pass, doing everything she could to blend into the wallpaper. Milford approached steadily. Unlike Bradly's flashy, outgoing vibe, he had a more brooding, aloof kind of handsomeness, like a pine tree blanketed in snow, regal and intimidating. He acknowledged the flattery around him with simple nods, his eyes scanning the room casually, subtly taking stock of everyone there. Until his gaze swept over Stella again, and he came to an abrupt halt. He paused, causing Bradly to stop too. "Something wrong, Milford?" Milford didn't respond, his steady gaze fixed on Stella. It was only a look, but it jolted her to her core. She felt an odd sense of being claimed, uninvited. Yet she'd barely crossed paths with Milford before. Bradly and the others traced his stare, his eyebrow quirking up. "Stella, come say hi to Big Milford." Stella started to step forward, but Milford beat her to it, walking straight toward her. Bradly and the rest exchanged surprised glances. So far, everyone had been approaching Milford. He hadn't initiated with a soul. Milford's deep eyes gave nothing away. "Stella?" Her breath hitched, like a faint breeze had brushed her ear. She hadn't anticipated him coming over to chat. It had been years, and they'd only met once or twice, but he still remembered her. Stella nodded. "Milford, it's been ages—" Before she could finish, Milford held out his hand. The move was so casual, so natural. Out of pure reflex and politeness, Stella extended hers, their palms connecting. In that brief clasp, she felt him squeeze gently, his thumb settling on her fingers and grazing them with a warm intensity. Milford released after just a second. Suddenly, Bradly sidled up, drawing Stella into his side with an arm around her waist, lacing his fingers through her left hand. He said, "Milford, how long are you in town this time? Stella and I can take you out to dinner one of these days." Milford took in their cozy pose, his glance dropping to their intertwined hands. "About a month." The words had barely left his mouth when Chuck came down the stairs, leaning on the butler for support. Milford headed over to talk with him. Not long after, the kitchen called that the party was ready. Stella trailed Bradly to their seats on the left side of the main table. Everyone filed in and sat. As the eldest branch, the two Woodard brothers took priority. Chuck claimed the head of the main table, with Nadine and Milford next in line. Stella and Bradly fell further down the order, landing her right across from Milford on the diagonal. The family feast got underway, with everyone firing questions at Milford about what he'd been up to lately. Stella kept her head down, nibbling at her food while catching bits of the conversation. Zrester bigwig, major stakeholder in Wonder Group, founder of that financial exchange and the smart transportation AI... Milford's credentials were endless and mind-blowing. She thought back to that Zrester party invite list she'd snagged years ago. Milford was third from the top, while she languished at the bottom. In all these years, she'd had next to no interaction with him. Right after the wedding, this mysterious Milford had only shown up once. He dropped off a gift and vanished. In just a handful of years, Milford had climbed to the pinnacle of Zrester's power players. His talent was obvious. Before long, the family party wound down, and folks scattered to grab desserts. Still hung up on that marriage license, Stella excused herself to head upstairs for a coat change. Bradly was itching to chat with Milford, his gaze fixed that way as he muttered distractedly, "Yeah, go on up." Stella wasted no time hustling upstairs. With the crowd milling about downstairs, she slipped to the third floor of the villa and nudged open Bradly's bedroom door. There it was: the glaring marriage license perched right on top of the nightstand, framed, flanked by their wedding portrait. As she stepped closer, memories of Bradly's cozy moments with Shanna flooded her brain, her nails digging slowly into her palm. That license seared her eyes, like it was sneering at her gullibility. She never should've caved, never should've handed Bradly a second shot. It just went to show that people's hearts circled back for seconds. Disgust flickered in her eyes as she hauled the desk's computer chair over, the kind with wheels and a swivel, shaky at best. She climbed onto it, planting one foot on the bed for stability, teetering just enough to hold steady. Stella hiked up her pearl-white knee-length dress a bit and stretched upward slowly. Fingers extended to the max, but she was still a couple inches shy. She rose onto her tiptoes, straining, but no dice. Frowning from her perch, she scanned around and snagged a book from beside the cabinet. As she leaned down, footsteps suddenly echoed outside the door. Fast, but measured. A man's, for sure. Her pulse spiked. She clutched the table, scrambling to hop down, but, perfect timing, her other sleeve caught on the cabinet's edge. She tugged frantically to break free, but it was too late to descend. The door flew open out of nowhere. Stella went rigid, her knees giving way as she toppled backward off the chair. A quick yelp escaped her, but the expected crash never hit. A firm hand latched precisely onto her thigh, another banding around her waist, hauling her into a solid hold and planting her feet firmly on the floor. She slammed into a warm, toned chest, a crisp, grounding sandalwood aroma enveloping her, not Bradly's scent. Stella glanced up, nearly clipping the guy's chin. Milford let go right away, backing off a step to give her space. Her cheeks burned, the thigh he'd gripped feeling like it was on fire. Mortified and frozen, she stammered, "Th-thanks." Milford stayed composed, his eyes skimming her flushed face and the pinkened patch of skin on her thigh from his hold. His Adam's apple dipped subtly. "Didn't realize you were in here. My bad." Stella shook her head, even more flustered. She was the one imposing on him. Milford flicked a glance upward. "Need some help?" She looked too. Up top, the marriage license screamed for attention. Chapter 7 Don't Let Me Hate You Stella just came out with it. "I want to get the marriage license down." Milford hesitated for a beat, without probing why she needed it, and slid the chair out of the way. Tall and long-limbed, he barely had to tip up on his toes to snag it effortlessly. Milford skimmed the lettering on the license, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes before the faintest quirk tugged at his lips, almost undetectable. He passed it over to Stella. "Ah, I see." She missed the words, taking it with a soft murmur: "Thanks, Milford." Her palms were slick with sweat now, but holding the certificate still sent an icy shiver through her. Those bold letters were a brutal reminder. This whole marriage had been one big joke. From beginning to end, Bradly's grand performance of undying love had always had a third wheel in the shadows. Milford dropped his gaze. Towering over her, all he could make out was the neat swirl at the top of her head, round and oddly appealing. Those slim, pale hands gripped the certificate like a vise, completely bloodless. Milford asked offhandedly, "So, what's the marriage license for?" "Oh, I just want to bring it home and store it there," Stella shot back, pulling an excuse out of thin air. Milford's stare felt like it enveloped her, the heat of it almost scorching, though he kept his hands to himself. Then he casually adjusted his cufflinks and turned to go. Stella let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, sagging against the cool cabinet. Her thigh still tingled with warmth from his grip; she quickly smoothed her skirt down, tucked the license into her bag, and only left the room once everything looked undisturbed. Bradly was still out in the back garden, deep in conversation. Stella kept her face neutral, strolling over to stand at his side. A few relatives were chatting with him. "Hey, word is Milford actually got back a couple days ago, but only tipped us off today." Bradly looked taken aback. "I thought he was flying in today?" "Nope, sounds like he hit up some auction. I only heard bits and pieces, supposedly the other night at the Empire Auction House." "He must not have gone. I was there that evening too, and I didn't see him anywhere," Bradly said, frowning in confusion. Stella's eyelashes flickered subtly, but she played it cool. Out of nowhere, her mind jumped back to that enigmatic bidder in suite 217. She wondered, 'Could Milford be the mystery guest who got the bracelet for me?' She shoved the thought down as soon as it surfaced. They'd only crossed paths once, total strangers really, connected by the flimsiest in-law tie. No matter how you sliced it, Milford wouldn't stick his neck out for her. Just like Bradly said, he hadn't caught wind of anything, so it couldn't be Milford. Stella let it go. After some more mingling, the group started to break up. Bradly steered her over to bid farewell to Milford. "Mom, Milford, we're taking off. Let's set up a family dinner soon when things settle." Milford slouched back in his chair with effortless nonchalance and gave a nod. "I'm knee-deep in an acquisition, no hurry on the get-together. But you..." He lifted his head, his expression sharpening. "Keep your life on the straight and narrow. Don't veer off track." The edge of warning in his voice was crystal clear. Bradly had grown up overshadowed by Milford; he went rigid but brushed it off casually. "Come on, everything's good. My company's running smooth as ever. If you're skeptical, drop by anytime and pore over the financials—knock yourself out." "It's not just about the company," Milford said softly, eyes down as he savored a sip of coffee. Stella couldn't help stealing a glance at him, and in that instant, a ridiculous idea struck her. From what Bradly had mentioned, Milford was abroad most of the time but still had the inside scoop on everything back home. She wondered, 'Does he know about the shady stuff Bradly is up to on the sly?' "Milford, I hear you. I'll make sure to nurture my marriage with Stella, our whole life together." Bradly grinned, threading his fingers through Stella's. Milford's gaze lingered on their joined hands for a second before drifting away, sealed with a subtle nod. Stella had no desire for any more close contact with Bradly, so she subtly shook his hand free without thinking. A split second later, his disbelieving stare locked onto her face, and he tried to grab her again. She'd known her move would humiliate him in the moment, so she didn't bother saying goodbye to Milford. She just turned and walked out ahead. Once they slid into the car, Bradly shed his polite, deferential mask from earlier, reverting to his entitled rich-kid swagger. He tugged his tie loose, a flicker of annoyance pinching his brows. "Always playing the big-brother card to chew me out, same crap since we were little. "So what if he's crushing it overseas? I'm holding my own just fine back home. Who in Ostralver would even think about messing with me?" Bradly fished out a menthol cigarette on autopilot, ready to light up, but he caught himself after glancing at Stella and shoved it back. He said, "All these years, folks have been whispering, or saying it straight to my face, that my company's thriving because of his pull. Like he's behind every damn thing. "And you? You flat-out refused to let me hold your hand back there. Trying to make me look like an idiot in front of him?" His expression iced over, the edge in his voice impossible to miss. Stella's frown deepened as she took it in. Even without knowing Milford all that well, she understood that Bradly's cocky antics in Ostralver, brushing people off like they were nothing, had always been propped up by Milford's clout. She'd assumed the brothers were tight, but clearly Bradly's respect was just for show; underneath, his grudge against Milford simmered deep. She could overlook a lot, but with things the way they were now, there was zero point in him putting on that phony hand-holding act. Stella gripped her bag, the one with the marriage license inside, and couldn't bite her tongue. "We haven't held hands in forever. It feels off to me." The car went dead quiet. She was right. Their physical closeness had dwindled so much that even she couldn't pinpoint the last time. Bradly's brow creased, and he snapped the cigarette filter clean off between his fingers. "What was that?" Stella met his eyes steadily. "From here on out, let's skip the pointless touchy-feely stuff. It just doesn't sit right." She hadn't even finished when the brakes screeched harshly. The car lurched to a halt on the empty shoulder of the road. Stella almost smacked into the window from the force, her pulse hammering as she barked, "Are you out of your mind?" Bradly loomed over her, fingers digging into her chin, irritation boiling in his glare. "Stella, do you have any idea what you're saying?" The pinch stung like crazy, and the absurdity of it all hit her as she wrestled to shove him off. "Is it not true? When's the last time we even held hands. Can you remember?" Bradly's gaze turned stormy, like she'd struck a raw spot. "I bet you're hung up on Milford, just like that girl from the second branch. That's why you pulled away in front of him. You're trying to cut ties with me?" "Bradly! What the hell are you babbling about?" Anger surged through her as she pushed harder. "Don't you dare pin your gross history on me!" The way the family had orbited Milford like he was the sun had obviously gotten under his skin. The more she resisted, the darker his look grew. Abruptly, he leaned in and smashed his mouth against hers. Stella's eyes flew wide, her head whipping aside to evade as she hammered at his shoulders with everything she had. He'd locked lips with Shanna god knows how often. The thought turned her stomach, so she clamped down and bit him hard. Bradly yelped in pain, jerking back as the fog cleared and he clocked what he'd just done, regret flashing across his face. Blood dotted his lip, but he brushed it off, lunging to wrap her in his arms. "I'm sorry, Stella, baby, I'm so sorry. I screwed up; it was a stupid impulse..." Drained of energy, Stella sagged into the passenger seat, letting him hold her while a barren wave of emptiness and revulsion washed over her. The hug she'd once melted into now repulsed her to her core. "Get off me." Her voice came out rough and scratchy. "Bradly, don't push me to hating you."
Chapter 1 Don't Want Him Anymore "I'm sorry, ma'am." On the other end of the line, the insurance customer service rep said coolly, "After checking our records, the car owner, Mr. Woodard, is indeed married, but the spouse listed here isn't you." Stella Daniels had gotten into a car accident on her way to the Woodard Group headquarters. She couldn't get through to Bradly Woodard on his phone, so she had no choice but to call the insurance company. The car was registered in Bradly's name, but as his wife, she should be able to process the claim too. "When Mr. Woodard picked up the car, he came with his wife and provided the original marriage license. Her last name is Erickson, and her full name is Shanna Erickson," the rep said. It hit Stella like a slap in the face. Dizziness washed over her in waves, leaving her whole body shaking uncontrollably. She and Bradly had been childhood sweethearts. Their families were old friends, and everyone in Ostralver's high society knew how clingy he was with her. Bradly couldn't stand being apart from her even for a single day. Three years ago, when Stella headed abroad for her studies, Bradly had the plane stopped just for her. During her three years in Ensland, he expanded his business overseas to make it easier to look after her. Sixteen thousand miles apart, he'd still fly across the ocean every week to see her. The year she came down with a severe lung illness and nearly didn't pull through, she spent a week in intensive care. Bradly ignored the infection risks and stayed right by her side, sliding a ring onto her finger. He said, "If anything happens to you, I'll go with you. We'll be husband and wife in the next life too." For Bradly's sake, she turned down her mentor's offer to stay on in the lab and headed back home. Brimming with excitement, she went to find him, planning to surprise him. But when she pushed open the door to the CEO's office, she saw a slender, pretty woman straddling his lap. The woman's innocent face tilted upward, her voice whiny and aggrieved. "Mr. Woodard, what happens to me now that Stella is back?" Bradly sat in his executive chair, his tall frame looming over her. A flash of ruthlessness crossed his stern features. "You? You're just her stand-in. Don't forget your place." He lifted his hand, pinching her delicate chin with a sneer. "Barely a three-out-of-ten resemblance, and you think you can compare to her?" Stella was still clutching the gift she'd prepared for him. With a loud "bang," it dropped to the floor, finally breaking the scene in the office. Bradly's face drained of color as he shoved the woman off and jumped to his feet. That woman was Shanna. After Stella caught them in the act, Bradly fired Shanna on the spot and pulled out all the stops to win her back. Bradly, the arrogant prince of Ostralver's elite circles, humbled himself to the dust before her, begging her to give him another chance. Any project she set her sights on, he'd drop without a second thought. He stood in the pouring rain outside her building for over a week, just for a glimpse of her. He said, "Stella, I'm not asking you to forgive me. At least let me explain. "I only ever saw Shanna as your replacement. You've been gone abroad for so long; I missed you terribly. I swear, I just kept her around. Nothing more ever happened between us. "That time you walked in, I'd had too much to drink, and she deliberately tempted me. I lost control for a moment... "I've already let her go, and she won't show up in our lives again. Stella, please, come back to me." Back then, Stella couldn't stand even the slightest betrayal. She insisted on breaking off the engagement. Until that one incident. She was kidnapped by a business rival. The kidnappers reneged on the deal, tied her up in an abandoned factory, and set the place ablaze. Bradly charged into the flames without a second thought to rescue her, shielding her from a collapsing steel beam. He ended up gravely injured, confined to bed for nearly six months. By risking his life, Bradly finally melted her resolve. Once he was out of the hospital, she accepted his proposal, and they threw a lavish wedding. In the two years since they tied the knot, he'd treated her just as devotedly as ever, with zero scandals. He even imposed a strict curfew on himself, heading home right on time every day. Even on out-of-town business trips, he'd video call her constantly. His partners would tease him about being henpecked. He never denied it. Instead, he'd grin proudly and say, "A real man takes care of his family." Memories rushed through Stella's mind like a whirlwind, every past moment flashing by in a blur. Her legs buckled, and she dropped to her knees, burying her face in her hands. She couldn't figure out which Bradly was the real one anymore. A bitter, mocking gleam sparked in her eyes. She thought, 'How absurd.' She'd been his wife for two years, and only now was she learning that even their marriage license had been a sham. Stella scrubbed her face hard, her bangs already soaked with cold sweat. She ignored the other driver's furious yelling and calmly dialed the police. They showed up fast. After finishing her statement, Stella left the station under a sky that had gone completely dark. Her phone lit up with several missed calls from Bradly. When she hadn't answered, he'd sent texts instead. Bradly: [Babe, I was tied up in a key meeting this afternoon. Signal jammers were on, so I missed your call. You okay?] Bradly: [I've got a client dinner tonight, so I'll be late getting home. I double-checked: no women involved, so no need to worry.] Bradly: [Head to bed early. Don't wait up. Love you.] Stella stared at the screen, a sharp wave of irony twisting in her gut. Bradly didn't stagger in until the wee hours. He reeked of alcohol, which almost, but not quite, masked the subtle whiff of perfume on him. "Honey..." He could barely keep his balance, stumbling over to wrap his arms around her through the blanket. "I missed you so damn much..." Stella didn't say a word. Only once he was dead to the world did she sit up quietly and unlock his phone with his fingerprint. The thing was squeaky clean, no suspicious traces at all. His contacts were mostly buddies and business folks, with hers pinned at the top as "Darling Wife." Flawlessly tidy, just like their sham of a marriage. Stella hooked the phone up to her computer, and it didn't take long to uncover his second WhatsApp account. She signed in, and right away, messages popped up from a profile with a cute pink kitten avatar, labeled "Baby." Shanna: [Bradly, thanks for tonight. Without you, I wouldn't have known what to do.] Shanna: [I've always thought meeting you was the luckiest thing that's ever happened to me. I won't intrude on your life. As long as you swing by to see me once in a while, that's enough to make me happy.] Stella scrolled back through the history. She'd suspected as much, but seeing it all laid out still hit her like a punch to the chest, leaving her breathless. They chatted nearly every day. Shanna never missed a good morning message, and Bradly's replies had shifted over time, from total silence at first, to sporadic responses, and now to answering every single one. A chill spread through her. Stella clutched the phone tighter, knowing she should quit while she was ahead but unable to stop herself from digging deeper. Shanna: [Bradly, sorry, I had a few drinks and lost it for a bit. Doc says I'm okay now, so don't stress.] Shanna: [Mrs. Woodard's birthday bash is important. Go enjoy it with her. I'll be fine.] Stella squeezed her eyes shut as the memory came rushing back. Her birthday. Bradly had spent over a month planning it down to the last detail, but that day, he was totally distracted. Hell, he almost cut his own hand while slicing the cake. When she'd asked what was up, he'd brushed it off as work drama, told her not to worry, then pulled her into a soft embrace and encouraged her to blow out the candles and make a wish. It all made sense now, as she stared at this chat log. That same day, Shanna had tried to kill herself by slashing her wrists and ended up in the ER. A sour bitterness flooded her chest like a rising tide. In those brief seconds when she'd closed her eyes to wish, she wondered, 'Was he agonizing over Shanna in the hospital, or picturing endless years together with her?' Stella knew she didn't need an answer to that anymore. She gently placed the phone back and looked down at Bradly, fast asleep beside her. She'd known him since she was four, and for the twenty years that followed, she'd truly believed his love was hers alone, irreplaceable. But now she saw it for what it was: just cheap free samples at a store, handed out to anyone who walked by. If that was all it amounted to, she was done with it. Chapter 2 Bid Against Her The next day, Stella woke to find Bradly busy in the kitchen, his broad shoulders narrowing to a slim waist, his tall, lean build moving with purpose. The sight hit her hard, a dull ache tightening in her chest. Bradly had learned to cook entirely for her sake. She still remembered that turbulent period when the Woodard Group was in crisis. His rivals had targeted her, paying off a servant to poison her food. She'd been unconscious for three full days. When she finally woke, Bradly was there, his eyes red-rimmed and veined with exhaustion, gripping her hand like a lifeline. The instant she stirred, the imposing Bradly crumbled forward, enveloping her in a hug as scalding tears fell onto her skin. From then on, Bradly threw himself into cooking lessons, taking charge of all her meals. In less than a month, he'd gone from a spoiled elite who couldn't distinguish spices to turning out dishes worthy of a Michelin chef. Just then, his phone rang. Stella glanced at it but made no move to answer. Bradly darted out of the kitchen, apron still on, grabbing the phone with a barely concealed flash of anxiety. Stella pretended not to notice and went to wash up. When she came back, the table was set with breakfast, and he was slipping into his suit jacket from the coat rack. Seeing her, he said gently, "There's an emergency at work. I have to run. Sorry I can't join you for breakfast." Stella murmured, "Sure, work comes first." He was clearly in a hurry, because he didn't pick up on the new edge of cool distance in her tone and rushed out. She stared blankly after him until he was gone, then dumped the entire spread into the trash. Then she picked up her phone and dialed a number. "That offer you made before? I'm on board." The person on the other end erupted in delight, chattering away before shifting to broken Andosa Language. "Stella, why the sudden change of heart? I've bugged you about this so many times, and you always said you were married now and focusing on family." A mocking glint flickered in Stella's eyes. She thought, 'Married? This so-called marriage has been dead on arrival.' The caller was her former mentor from her overseas studies. He'd reached out lately, hoping she'd join his new team and spearhead a major project. At the time, she'd kept saying no out of loyalty to Bradly. Now, she only wished she'd seen through the absurd joke of their marriage earlier. After the call, she contacted immigration to schedule a passport renewal. It would take about a week. But before heading out, she had one loose end to tie up. That evening, Stella showed up at a private auction at the Cloud Hotel. She was after one of her mother's keepsakes. Her mom had died when she was eight, and soon after, the Daniels family had liquidated her wedding gift. Stella had been hunting down the items ever since. Over the years, she'd only reclaimed a few. Tonight's auction featured a bracelet from that collection, one her mother had picked up on a trip to Ijance. It was utterly unique, irreplaceable. Whatever it took, she was getting it back. Stella settled into her seat just as the auction was about to start. She was flipping through the catalog when Bradly's voice floated over. "Didn't I already pick out that royal blue sapphire set for you? Not good enough?" His voice carried that familiar tenderness. Shanna linked her arm with his, pouting playfully. "Your taste sucks! I want to pick my own birthday gift." Stella watched them quietly until Bradly threaded through the guests and their gazes collided by chance. The color drained from his face. On pure reflex, he jerked his arm away from Shanna. "Stella." He strode over quickly. "I tried calling you a few times, but you didn't answer. Were you planning to surprise me?" Even though he tried to play it cool, she could still catch that subtle hint of panic in his expression. Stella didn't bother calling him on it, replying evenly, "My phone was on silent. I didn't hear it." Bradly visibly relaxed, casually taking her hand in his with a look of concern. "Your hands are like ice. Didn't I warn you about the cold snap today? You're always putting style over staying warm. If you catch a chill, you know it'll just kill me." As he talked, he signaled a server for a blanket and draped it snugly around her shoulders. Stella kept a straight face, brushing him off as she looked past him to Shanna, who lingered behind with a scowl. Shanna nibbled her lip, then defiantly dropped into the seat next to Bradly, her gaze simmering with irritation. Bradly leaned closer, dropping his voice to explain, "We just wrapped up a major project at the company, and Shanna pulled her weight big time. Her birthday's around the corner, so I thought I'd treat her to something as a project bonus." He eyed her anxiously. "Stella, you're not mad, right?" Shanna piped up in a soft, vulnerable tone. "Mrs. Woodard, if this upsets you, I'll just go. I don't want to get in the way of you and Mr. Woodard." Stella's mouth quirked into a smile that never touched her eyes. "We're married. A little thing like this? Of course it doesn't bother me." The auction got underway shortly after. Bradly treated Shanna like she was invisible, focusing entirely on Stella. He paged through the catalog, throwing in bids left and right. "Babe, this would look amazing on you." He grinned, tenderly brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his tone warm and intimate. "You'd be gorgeous in it." Stella averted her eyes, but out of the corner of her vision, she saw Shanna discreetly clutching the edge of Bradly's jacket in the dim light. Their gazes locked for a split second in a shared, lingering look. She masked the derision in her own eyes, struck by how absurd it all was. Bradly seemed totally at ease juggling both women, convinced he was keeping things balanced, one with the official status, the other with his undivided public attention. She thought, 'What could be fairer than that?' But Stella had never been interested in that kind of equilibrium. Her world extended far beyond romance. Bradly? He was just a small detour on her path, a misstep she'd own up to. And now, it was time to set things right. "Next up: a string of bracelet. Fine-grained texture, deep aroma that lingers. Starting bid at 170,000 dollars, with increments of at least 20,000 dollars!" The auctioneer's pumped-up voice echoed through the room. Finally, Stella's main target for the evening. Bids flew in fast, the screen flickering with updates as the auctioneer called out, "Number 17 lady at 200,000 dollars! Number 9 gentleman ups it to 260,000 dollars! Going higher?" Once the initial frenzy tapered off, Stella lifted her paddle. "500,000 dollars." She'd doubled the current bid in one go. It was a hefty amount. Sure, the bracelet was top-notch, but it wasn't the auction's highlight. The room went quiet after her call; no one countered. "Fantastic! Number 11 lady at 500,000 dollars! "500,000 dollars once! 500,000 dollars twice!" The auctioneer hoisted his gavel, poised to bring it down. "No more bids? Then 500,000 dollars—" "520,000 dollars," A gentle, hesitant voice interrupted. Shanna shrank against Bradly's side, paddle in hand, murmuring timidly to him, "Is this where I put in the amount?" Chapter 3 You're Dirty Stella frowned and raised her bid. "540,000 dollars." But Shanna was right behind her, countering with, "560,000 dollars." How annoyingly precise, each time, she stuck to the bare minimum, slapping on just 20,000 dollars more than Stella's offer. Shanna turned toward her, her voice dripping with plea. "Stella, you've got plenty of jewelry already. Please, let me have this one. I adore it. "I'm not like you, born with money, everything handed to you on a silver platter. You snap your fingers and get whatever you want. If it goes any higher, I really won't be able to keep up." Stella didn't bother looking at her, just quirking her lips in a thin smile. "Isn't Mr. Woodard covering the cost for you? What are you stressing about?" Shanna's face went a shade paler, but she answered in that soft, demure tone, "Even so, Mr. Woodard earns his money the hard way. If I can save him a bit, I ought to." She was the epitome of considerate and caring. After several more back-and-forth bids, the bracelet's price had soared to 700,000 dollars. Stella let out a chilly scoff and was opening her mouth to up the ante when Bradly beat her to it. He said, "Babe, why don't we just let Shanna take this bracelet?" Stella's fingers curled into a tight fist, her nails biting into her palm. She lifted her gaze, any lingering warmth in her eyes turning to ice. "What did you just say?" Bradly let out a resigned sigh, giving her hand a comforting pat as he murmured gently, "Babe, I already told Shanna she'd get a gift tonight, and she's got her heart set on this one. No need to compete with her. "Plus, I've already snagged you a handful of other pieces. Isn't that plenty?" He said it all lightly, teasingly, as if it were nothing more than a harmless quip. Stella shut her eyes, a nameless sourness creeping along her nerves, coiling around her heart until it felt like she couldn't draw a breath. Given Shanna's modest background, 700,000 dollars was way out of her league. She wouldn't even make the guest list here on her own. The only reason she was in that seat, trading bids blow for blow, was Bradly's backing. His pampering had delivered her straight into Stella's path. Stella whispered, "What if I refuse to back down?" She hoisted her paddle once more, her voice echoing through the room. "1 million dollars." A hush blanketed the hall. The auctioneer clearly picked up on the drama, his delivery faltering. "Number eleven at 1 million dollars. Do I hear higher?" Shanna's eyes welled up, on the verge of tears, as she cast a helpless look at Bradly before tacking on another fifty thousand. "1 million 20 thousand dollars." Stella's features hardened to frost, and she was poised to fire back when the manager bustled over, bending close to murmur, "Mrs. Woodard, apologies. We ran a credit verification on your account, and it's frozen. Got another one we can use?" The words slammed into her like a bolt from the blue, ringing in her ears. She snapped her head toward Bradly, but he'd already looked away. An icy numbness spread through her arms and legs. She though,t 'Of course, it has to be him.' Her primary account was linked with his; besides her, only he could authorize a freeze on her cards. Triumph flickered in Shanna's eyes as she added with a pointed edge, "Well, in that case, Mrs. Woodard, maybe it's time to step aside. You've got so much already. Can't you let me have this one little thing?" Up on stage, the auction rolled on, the display frozen on Shanna's latest bid: 1 million 20 thousand dollars. Shanna could hardly hide her glee, chirping sweetly, "Go on, call it!" But the words had barely left her lips when someone announced he would bid for the lot at any costs right in the second-floor VIP suite. After a momentary silence, the room burst into chaos. "He's declared absolute intent!" Even the auctioneer's expression changed. He'd been in the game for over a decade, but this was his first encounter with such a scenario. He hurriedly called out, "Lot number six goes to the gentleman in box 217, regardless of how high the price goes." Anyone up in those second-floor VIP suites was either swimming in money or held serious sway in Ostralver's upper crust. Stella glanced upward toward the source of the voice, catching only a vague outline behind the draped curtains. Even when she couldn't see his face, the man's crossed-legged posture radiated an unspoken dominance that pressed down on the room. The auctioneer slammed his gavel down with finality, proclaiming, "Congratulations to our esteemed guest in box 217 on winning lot number six! You're now upgraded to black gold status!" Across all of Ostralver's elite scene, fewer than a handful had ever hit black gold level at these events. Stella wondered, 'Just who is this mystery man?' Stella loosened her clenched fist slightly, torn between relief that her mother's heirloom hadn't landed in Shanna's clutches and anxiety over reclaiming it from this unknown figure. No matter what, she'd stop at nothing, pay any price, to bring her mother's possession home. She rose to her feet, intent on marching over to box 217 for a chat, when the attendant who'd just ducked inside reappeared, tray in hand with the bracelet. "What's this? The bidder in 217 having second thoughts?" "Auctions don't do take-backs." "Probably short on funds. I called it. No one's done this here before." As the murmurs swirled, the attendant headed straight for Stella, dipping into a courteous bow with a warm smile. She said, "Mrs. Woodard, the gentleman in box 217 requests that I deliver the bracelet to you as a gift. He wishes for you to follow your true path and for all to unfold as it should." The place erupted in gossip once more, with guests shooting glances her way, some envious, others skeptical, many flat-out stunned. "Isn't that Mrs. Woodard? What's her deal with the upstairs guy?" "Likely just buttering up Mr. Woodard." "Nah, I don't buy it. Out of all the goodies tonight, why zero in on those beads for Mrs. Woodard? Sounds like she's got a real connection there." The buzz filtered through, and Bradly's face turned stone-cold. In a tight, edged voice, he demanded, "Stella, what's the story with you and whoever's in box 217?" Stella held his piercing stare and said flatly, "I have no idea who he is." "!" Bradly jumped up, clamping down on her wrist like a vice. Her soft, fair skin reddened almost instantly under the pressure. Stella winced sharply, jerking her arm back on reflex. "Bradly, have you lost your mind? Haven't you stirred up enough drama for one day?" But he barreled on, blind to her fury, his reddened eyes locked on her as if he could swallow her up. "What's really between you two? "Stella, through all our married years, I've bent over backward for you. Anything you desired, I served it up without question. Why would you betray me like this?" In his mind, it was already a done deal: she was entangled in something shady with the man above. If the guy was angling for a favor from him, Bradly would've recognized him right away. People in Ostralver didn't beat around the bush when they needed something from him. They came direct. The jab landed raw and direct. Bradly blinked, frozen for a beat as a flicker of alarm shot through his eyes. Chapter 4 Don't Know You'd Come Bradly said, "I'm sorry, Stella. I didn't mean it like that. I had no right getting jealous over you and some stranger. It's all on me." Bradly's eyes reddened. "But honestly, there's nothing going on between Shanna and me. I just brought her along as a thank-you. Can you let this slide?" Seeing his cue, Shanna ducked her head meekly, her voice catching. "That's right, Mrs. Woodard. I've been bending over backward to keep my distance from Mr. Woodard so you wouldn't get the wrong impression. "I'm not asking for the world, just a decent birthday gift. I didn't grow up with your advantages; you've had everything handed to you and even snagged a catch like Mr. Woodard. Can't I at least pick out something for myself?" "Just a gift, huh?" Stella closed in on her, one step at a time. "Ms. Erickson, I've never given a damn about this 'gift' you're going on about. What gets under my skin is you, a Woodard Group employee, crossing lines you have no business crossing." As they drew closer, Bradly instinctively stepped in front of Shanna, his voice soft and coaxing. "Stella, if it's bugging you this much, I'll transfer her to a branch office once the auction's over. "But for now, cut me some slack. Let Shanna have the bracelet. When we get home, name your price on anything, and it's yours." Shanna bobbed her head in agreement, tears glistening on her lashes as she pleaded, "Stella, I really adore this bracelet. You've got it all already. Why go after the one thing I want? "Or is this just because you hate my guts and can't resist taking shots at me?" "What makes you think I'd ever like you?" Stella let out a cold snort. "This belonged to me from the start. Why the hell would I give it up?" She took the bracelet from the attendant with casual ease, her smile sharp but empty. "Ms. Erickson, know your place." Her refusal to budge finally wore through Bradly's patience, erasing every bit of softness from his face. "Stella, do you have to humiliate me like this in front of everyone? Where does that leave my dignity? "It's just a crappy old bracelet. Am I really worth less to you than some trinket?" He said it with such conviction, as if he'd wiped from his memory the solemn vow he'd made when proposing: that he'd hunt down every single one of her mother's sold-off keepsakes, no matter what. Stella's hand flew up, delivering a resounding slap across his cheek. The sharp crack rang out, pulling shocked stares from every corner of the room. Bradly's head snapped sideways, his face livid as he fixed her with a glare, his words hissing through clenched teeth. "Stella, drop the drama already. Have I pampered you too much these days, turning you into this unreasonable nightmare?" Stella reined in her temper, keeping her tone even. "Bradly, you better not live to regret today." Without another word, she turned and walked out, not sparing a backward glance. As her figure receded, Shanna gently touched the angry red mark on Bradly's cheek, her voice full of worry. "Mr. Woodard, are you okay? "Stella's got no boundaries. How could she hit you with all these people watching?" Bradly swatted her hand aside, his nails digging into his palm as he stared after her retreating path. "I've spoiled her rotten, letting her forget that everything she has comes from me." Shanna peeked at his changing expression, testing the waters. "Mr. Woodard, about the bracelet..." Bradly rubbed his throbbing cheek, pulled a bank card from his pocket, and handed it over. "1.7 million dollars on there. Buy whatever catches your eye." Box 217, Stella rapped on the door, eager to thank the mystery bidder face-to-face. Silence. She caught a server walking by. "Excuse me, any idea where the gentleman from this box headed?" "He slipped out right after nabbing the last item," the server said. Disappointment flashed in her eyes, but Stella pressed on, "Do you know who he was?" The server gave her a regretful smile. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard, we're not allowed to spill on our VIPs. Don't make this harder for us." Catching herself, Stella moved out of the way. "Thanks all the same." By the time she made it home from the auction, an hour had ticked by. Stella went straight up to the study, fired up the computer, and dove into the assets registered under her and Bradly's names. After tallying up the numbers, she snatched her phone, found lawyer Rubin Cobb's contact, and hit dial. She said, "I've sorted out the asset division documents for me and Bradly and sent them over. I need you to handle the property split by tomorrow." Rubin quickly received the files and nodded respectfully. "Of course, Mrs. Woodard. I'll get right on it." Stella stared intently at her computer screen, her grip tightening on the mouse. "If Bradly's committed bigamy, how should our assets be divided?" "Generally, any property the bigamous party gained through the bigamy can be claimed back by the other spouse," Rubin replied matter-of-factly. Half of Bradly's current wealth had come from Stella's investments to support his career early on. Her expression darkened, and she promptly forwarded the marriage license between him and Shanna. "Rubin, please use every legal avenue to recover my half of the assets." After hanging up, Stella slumped back in her chair, utterly drained physically and emotionally. She closed her eyes slowly, but sleep was nowhere in sight. Bradly would never agree to a divorce. Until she had everything locked down, she couldn't let on that anything was amiss. Just then, the study door was kicked open from the outside. Bradly flung his jacket onto the desk and yanked Stella up from her seat in front of the computer. "Do you realize that because of your little outburst, I've become a laughingstock in our circles? "What exactly do you want? Are you still obsessing over what happened back then?" Stella opened her eyes slowly, her gaze settling calmly on Bradly, but she remained silent. A fire raged in Bradly's chest, intensifying by the second, and he couldn't hold back his fury any longer. "Since we got married, have I ever done anything to wrong you? I come home right on time every night after work, I always fill you in on any business dinners, and if there's even a hint of a woman involved, I skip them entirely! I've bent over backward, and it's still not good enough for you?" He remembered every detail crystal clear. In his mind, these were the sacrifices he'd made to marry her. Stella suddenly found the whole thing absurd. She couldn't bear to look at him anymore, so she stood up and walked straight out of the study without a backward glance. Behind her, Bradly's voice echoed heavily. "Stella, no matter what you think, my conscience is clear." It felt like Stella's heart had been shattered into icy fragments, a sharp, bitter pain surging through her. Her mind buzzed, and for a moment, all she could hear was that phrase repeating over and over. She thought, 'My conscience is clear? So, in his eyes, everything he's done is perfectly justifiable.' The next morning, when Stella woke up, Bradly was already gone. On the table sat the breakfast he'd prepared, tailored exactly to her tastes. Stella pressed her lips together, her feelings a complicated tangle. They'd ended things on a sour note last night, yet Bradly had still made her breakfast this morning. But this was the same man who'd lied to her for years. No matter what, it was time to end things with Bradly. She didn't touch the food and headed straight to the office. These past few years, she'd stayed out of Bradly's business dealings. A lot of her old financial records were outdated now, and she needed the latest reports. The secretary looked startled when she saw her, then managed to say, "Mrs. Woodard, are you here to see Mr. Woodard?" "No." Stella replied evenly. "Send the finance manager in to see me." Her shares were second only to Bradly's, giving her full access to every aspect of the company. The secretary hesitated briefly before nodding. Stella noticed her immediately turning to make a phone call, probably alerting Bradly. Stella didn't intervene; let her. She settled into the finance office, sipping her coffee absentmindedly while flipping through magazines on the shelf. Most were glossy entertainment rags, mixed in with novels and comics. Stella frowned, only now picking up on the details: the desk was covered in a pink plaid mat, cluttered with adorable plush toys. The standout pair was a set of couple dolls, their outfits emblazoned with the letters W and E. It hit Stella suddenly what that meant, and just then, the door behind her swung open. Shanna rushed in. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard." She was clutching a cup of coffee as she apologized. "I had no idea you'd drop by like this..." Chapter 5 All For Milford Stella arched an eyebrow as she looked her over. "So you're the finance manager?" Shanna nodded with a quick smile. "That's me. If you need anything at all, just say the word. Bradly, well, Mr. Woodard is tied up in a meeting right now. But don't worry, I'll make sure to relay whatever message you have." Stella let out a soft laugh. "No need for that." She regarded Shanna with clear curiosity. "I'm not looking for Bradly. I'm here to see you." Shanna's smile faltered for a moment before she recovered, her tone turning gentle. "Mrs. Woodard, I get that you're still bothered by what went down at the auction last night, but there's no reason to be so worked up about my connection to Mr. Woodard. After all..." She raised her hand, the elegant diamond ring on her finger glinting under the light, perfectly complementing her bashful grin. "I'm already married, and things are great between me and my husband." Stella's eyes locked on the ring, her breath hitching just for an instant. It was ridiculous. In this whole messed-up situation, she was the one playing the role of the mistress. The ring was an exact match for the one Bradly had given her during his proposal. But within seconds, Stella averted her gaze. "It's a lovely ring, but you're mistaken." She spoke unhurriedly, "I'm just here to grab the latest financial report from you. That's all." Stella caught the sour shift in Shanna's expression and smiled to herself. "Seems like you're the one on edge here, Ms. Erickson." Shanna's face transformed completely, that smug spark in her eyes snuffed out. She bit her lip, unable to find words for a long beat. Stella watched her with unruffled poise. "Do I need to repeat my request, Ms. Erickson?" The words had barely left her mouth when Bradly burst in, his expression clouding over at the sight. "Stella, wasn't the scene from last night enough?" His voice was laced with ice. "How long are you planning to drag this out? I've told you already. There's nothing going on between me and Shanna. If you don't believe me..." Stella interrupted him mid-sentence, "Oh, I believe you. Absolutely." A faint smirk tugged at her lips, though her eyes remained frosty as they settled on Shanna. "After all, Ms. Erickson's already married. She just mentioned it herself." The statement landed like a bomb. Shanna's face drained of color, and Bradly's followed suit. He shot her a withering glare. Tears sprang to Shanna's eyes in an instant. Stella had no interest in watching the drama unfold any further. She said evenly, "I'm here for this year's financials. I hold forty percent of the company. Surely I can access that, right?" Bradly seemed to snap back to reality, nodding hastily. "Of course you can." He barked orders at the secretary to fetch it immediately, all the while stealing wary glances at her face. Once he confirmed she wasn't giving anything away, he exhaled almost imperceptibly in relief. He said, "Stella, what's with the sudden interest? You've never bothered with company matters before." Stella answered coolly, "After the account freeze last night, I decided it's smarter to set up a separate one." Bradly's expression froze again. "Stella..." The secretary returned promptly with the report. Stella brushed Bradly aside, skimmed through it quickly, and was heading for the door when he caught her by the wrist. He said, "Stella, about the family dinner tonight, are you coming home with me?" His tone was pleading, like he needed her answer to reassure himself that she hadn't caught on to anything fishy. Stella didn't look back, just replying calmly, "Sure." Bradly's face lit up. "Great, I'll swing by after work to pick you up." Stella dropped her gaze, masking the cool detachment in her eyes. She'd only agreed to head back to the family estate for one specific reason. The marriage license from when she and Bradly had tied the knot was a phony, but he'd made a whole production out of stashing it away at the house, claiming it had to be kept secure. Nothing could serve as stronger proof. Once she got her hands on it, his bigamy would be ironclad. Stella didn't bother waiting for Bradly; she hailed a cab and got there ahead of time. She'd figured it was just a standard family gathering, but she was caught off guard by the full turnout. Bradly's parents, fresh from their overseas vacation last week, were back, and even the distant relatives from the Woodard family's side branches had shown up en masse. "Stella, dear." As she walked in, Nadine Woodard peered over her shoulder. "Bradly didn't come with you?" Stella answered evenly, "He'll be along shortly." Nadine clicked her tongue, her irritation obvious. "On an important occasion like this, letting someone from outside the family arrive solo, what's got into him?" Stella's brow furrowed just a touch. She and Bradly had been engaged since childhood, but after her mother's passing, the Daniels family's status had tanked while the Woodard family kept climbing. That was when Nadine started pushing to scrap the arrangement, and she'd mentioned it more than a few times. But Chuck Woodard was upright and principled, flat-out refusing to play the social-climbing game. With Bradly dead set on marrying her and no one else, Nadine had reluctantly given in, though she made her resentment clear. Even after the marriage, she never passed up an opportunity to give Stella the cold shoulder. She was about to add something else when the butler rushed in and murmured, "He's here." Nadine promptly dropped the subject with Stella and jumped to her feet, the extended family hustling out right behind her to welcome the arrivals. The level of pomp surprised Stella. The Woodard family was already at the top of Ostralver's social elite. For them to pull out all the stops like this... Standing at the edge of the group, Stella glanced up and saw a black Maybach rolling up to the front of the estate. Someone hurried forward to open the door respectfully, and a tall, imposing figure stepped out unhurriedly. The man wore a sleek black suit, his chiseled features sharp, eyes as midnight, radiating a fierce intensity. Every gesture exuded a natural poise and authority that made it tough to hold his stare. The crowd swarmed forward in a rush, but he stayed cool and detached the whole time, his stunningly handsome face as impassive as carved ice, showing zero emotion. Then, as if picking up on something, he looked up toward Stella. Their eyes locked unexpectedly, sending her heart pounding. It was Milford Woodard, Bradly's brother. He'd returned to the country. Though they were brothers in name, Milford wasn't all that tight with the family. He'd headed overseas young and had spent years growing the business abroad. His father Edward Woodard was a total lightweight, good only at spending cash, not earning it. His grandpa Chuck had the smarts and drive, but age was catching up, leaving him unable to manage it all. Real power over the Woodard family had shifted to Milford ages ago. Stella let out a quiet breath. She thought, 'That explains the big crowd today. They've all turned out for Milford.' Chapter 6 Need Help? Stella lingered in the corner of the living room, watching the relatives descend like a swarm of locusts, all scrambling to surround Milford. Bradly stood next to Nadine, flashing a polished smile as he greeted, "Hey, Milford." The uncles who'd been buttering up Bradly just a minute ago quickly switched gears, beaming with over-the-top enthusiasm as they stepped up to say hello. "Milford, what prompted the sudden return?" "Milford, I hear you're in the middle of acquiring a domestic company? You're just getting more impressive by the day." "Come on inside, take a seat. We've got some top-shelf coffee." Bradly caught the stark contrast in the uncles' warmth, his smile fading briefly before he pulled it together and led the way forward. Stella quietly eyed the tall, strikingly handsome Milford striding into the living room like the star of the show, instinctively edging back a step. Now fully pushed to the fringes of the crowd, she shifted aside to let the trailing group pass, doing everything she could to blend into the wallpaper. Milford approached steadily. Unlike Bradly's flashy, outgoing vibe, he had a more brooding, aloof kind of handsomeness, like a pine tree blanketed in snow, regal and intimidating. He acknowledged the flattery around him with simple nods, his eyes scanning the room casually, subtly taking stock of everyone there. Until his gaze swept over Stella again, and he came to an abrupt halt. He paused, causing Bradly to stop too. "Something wrong, Milford?" Milford didn't respond, his steady gaze fixed on Stella. It was only a look, but it jolted her to her core. She felt an odd sense of being claimed, uninvited. Yet she'd barely crossed paths with Milford before. Bradly and the others traced his stare, his eyebrow quirking up. "Stella, come say hi to Big Milford." Stella started to step forward, but Milford beat her to it, walking straight toward her. Bradly and the rest exchanged surprised glances. So far, everyone had been approaching Milford. He hadn't initiated with a soul. Milford's deep eyes gave nothing away. "Stella?" Her breath hitched, like a faint breeze had brushed her ear. She hadn't anticipated him coming over to chat. It had been years, and they'd only met once or twice, but he still remembered her. Stella nodded. "Milford, it's been ages—" Before she could finish, Milford held out his hand. The move was so casual, so natural. Out of pure reflex and politeness, Stella extended hers, their palms connecting. In that brief clasp, she felt him squeeze gently, his thumb settling on her fingers and grazing them with a warm intensity. Milford released after just a second. Suddenly, Bradly sidled up, drawing Stella into his side with an arm around her waist, lacing his fingers through her left hand. He said, "Milford, how long are you in town this time? Stella and I can take you out to dinner one of these days." Milford took in their cozy pose, his glance dropping to their intertwined hands. "About a month." The words had barely left his mouth when Chuck came down the stairs, leaning on the butler for support. Milford headed over to talk with him. Not long after, the kitchen called that the party was ready. Stella trailed Bradly to their seats on the left side of the main table. Everyone filed in and sat. As the eldest branch, the two Woodard brothers took priority. Chuck claimed the head of the main table, with Nadine and Milford next in line. Stella and Bradly fell further down the order, landing her right across from Milford on the diagonal. The family feast got underway, with everyone firing questions at Milford about what he'd been up to lately. Stella kept her head down, nibbling at her food while catching bits of the conversation. Zrester bigwig, major stakeholder in Wonder Group, founder of that financial exchange and the smart transportation AI... Milford's credentials were endless and mind-blowing. She thought back to that Zrester party invite list she'd snagged years ago. Milford was third from the top, while she languished at the bottom. In all these years, she'd had next to no interaction with him. Right after the wedding, this mysterious Milford had only shown up once. He dropped off a gift and vanished. In just a handful of years, Milford had climbed to the pinnacle of Zrester's power players. His talent was obvious. Before long, the family party wound down, and folks scattered to grab desserts. Still hung up on that marriage license, Stella excused herself to head upstairs for a coat change. Bradly was itching to chat with Milford, his gaze fixed that way as he muttered distractedly, "Yeah, go on up." Stella wasted no time hustling upstairs. With the crowd milling about downstairs, she slipped to the third floor of the villa and nudged open Bradly's bedroom door. There it was: the glaring marriage license perched right on top of the nightstand, framed, flanked by their wedding portrait. As she stepped closer, memories of Bradly's cozy moments with Shanna flooded her brain, her nails digging slowly into her palm. That license seared her eyes, like it was sneering at her gullibility. She never should've caved, never should've handed Bradly a second shot. It just went to show that people's hearts circled back for seconds. Disgust flickered in her eyes as she hauled the desk's computer chair over, the kind with wheels and a swivel, shaky at best. She climbed onto it, planting one foot on the bed for stability, teetering just enough to hold steady. Stella hiked up her pearl-white knee-length dress a bit and stretched upward slowly. Fingers extended to the max, but she was still a couple inches shy. She rose onto her tiptoes, straining, but no dice. Frowning from her perch, she scanned around and snagged a book from beside the cabinet. As she leaned down, footsteps suddenly echoed outside the door. Fast, but measured. A man's, for sure. Her pulse spiked. She clutched the table, scrambling to hop down, but, perfect timing, her other sleeve caught on the cabinet's edge. She tugged frantically to break free, but it was too late to descend. The door flew open out of nowhere. Stella went rigid, her knees giving way as she toppled backward off the chair. A quick yelp escaped her, but the expected crash never hit. A firm hand latched precisely onto her thigh, another banding around her waist, hauling her into a solid hold and planting her feet firmly on the floor. She slammed into a warm, toned chest, a crisp, grounding sandalwood aroma enveloping her, not Bradly's scent. Stella glanced up, nearly clipping the guy's chin. Milford let go right away, backing off a step to give her space. Her cheeks burned, the thigh he'd gripped feeling like it was on fire. Mortified and frozen, she stammered, "Th-thanks." Milford stayed composed, his eyes skimming her flushed face and the pinkened patch of skin on her thigh from his hold. His Adam's apple dipped subtly. "Didn't realize you were in here. My bad." Stella shook her head, even more flustered. She was the one imposing on him. Milford flicked a glance upward. "Need some help?" She looked too. Up top, the marriage license screamed for attention. Chapter 7 Don't Let Me Hate You Stella just came out with it. "I want to get the marriage license down." Milford hesitated for a beat, without probing why she needed it, and slid the chair out of the way. Tall and long-limbed, he barely had to tip up on his toes to snag it effortlessly. Milford skimmed the lettering on the license, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes before the faintest quirk tugged at his lips, almost undetectable. He passed it over to Stella. "Ah, I see." She missed the words, taking it with a soft murmur: "Thanks, Milford." Her palms were slick with sweat now, but holding the certificate still sent an icy shiver through her. Those bold letters were a brutal reminder. This whole marriage had been one big joke. From beginning to end, Bradly's grand performance of undying love had always had a third wheel in the shadows. Milford dropped his gaze. Towering over her, all he could make out was the neat swirl at the top of her head, round and oddly appealing. Those slim, pale hands gripped the certificate like a vise, completely bloodless. Milford asked offhandedly, "So, what's the marriage license for?" "Oh, I just want to bring it home and store it there," Stella shot back, pulling an excuse out of thin air. Milford's stare felt like it enveloped her, the heat of it almost scorching, though he kept his hands to himself. Then he casually adjusted his cufflinks and turned to go. Stella let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, sagging against the cool cabinet. Her thigh still tingled with warmth from his grip; she quickly smoothed her skirt down, tucked the license into her bag, and only left the room once everything looked undisturbed. Bradly was still out in the back garden, deep in conversation. Stella kept her face neutral, strolling over to stand at his side. A few relatives were chatting with him. "Hey, word is Milford actually got back a couple days ago, but only tipped us off today." Bradly looked taken aback. "I thought he was flying in today?" "Nope, sounds like he hit up some auction. I only heard bits and pieces, supposedly the other night at the Empire Auction House." "He must not have gone. I was there that evening too, and I didn't see him anywhere," Bradly said, frowning in confusion. Stella's eyelashes flickered subtly, but she played it cool. Out of nowhere, her mind jumped back to that enigmatic bidder in suite 217. She wondered, 'Could Milford be the mystery guest who got the bracelet for me?' She shoved the thought down as soon as it surfaced. They'd only crossed paths once, total strangers really, connected by the flimsiest in-law tie. No matter how you sliced it, Milford wouldn't stick his neck out for her. Just like Bradly said, he hadn't caught wind of anything, so it couldn't be Milford. Stella let it go. After some more mingling, the group started to break up. Bradly steered her over to bid farewell to Milford. "Mom, Milford, we're taking off. Let's set up a family dinner soon when things settle." Milford slouched back in his chair with effortless nonchalance and gave a nod. "I'm knee-deep in an acquisition, no hurry on the get-together. But you..." He lifted his head, his expression sharpening. "Keep your life on the straight and narrow. Don't veer off track." The edge of warning in his voice was crystal clear. Bradly had grown up overshadowed by Milford; he went rigid but brushed it off casually. "Come on, everything's good. My company's running smooth as ever. If you're skeptical, drop by anytime and pore over the financials—knock yourself out." "It's not just about the company," Milford said softly, eyes down as he savored a sip of coffee. Stella couldn't help stealing a glance at him, and in that instant, a ridiculous idea struck her. From what Bradly had mentioned, Milford was abroad most of the time but still had the inside scoop on everything back home. She wondered, 'Does he know about the shady stuff Bradly is up to on the sly?' "Milford, I hear you. I'll make sure to nurture my marriage with Stella, our whole life together." Bradly grinned, threading his fingers through Stella's. Milford's gaze lingered on their joined hands for a second before drifting away, sealed with a subtle nod. Stella had no desire for any more close contact with Bradly, so she subtly shook his hand free without thinking. A split second later, his disbelieving stare locked onto her face, and he tried to grab her again. She'd known her move would humiliate him in the moment, so she didn't bother saying goodbye to Milford. She just turned and walked out ahead. Once they slid into the car, Bradly shed his polite, deferential mask from earlier, reverting to his entitled rich-kid swagger. He tugged his tie loose, a flicker of annoyance pinching his brows. "Always playing the big-brother card to chew me out, same crap since we were little. "So what if he's crushing it overseas? I'm holding my own just fine back home. Who in Ostralver would even think about messing with me?" Bradly fished out a menthol cigarette on autopilot, ready to light up, but he caught himself after glancing at Stella and shoved it back. He said, "All these years, folks have been whispering, or saying it straight to my face, that my company's thriving because of his pull. Like he's behind every damn thing. "And you? You flat-out refused to let me hold your hand back there. Trying to make me look like an idiot in front of him?" His expression iced over, the edge in his voice impossible to miss. Stella's frown deepened as she took it in. Even without knowing Milford all that well, she understood that Bradly's cocky antics in Ostralver, brushing people off like they were nothing, had always been propped up by Milford's clout. She'd assumed the brothers were tight, but clearly Bradly's respect was just for show; underneath, his grudge against Milford simmered deep. She could overlook a lot, but with things the way they were now, there was zero point in him putting on that phony hand-holding act. Stella gripped her bag, the one with the marriage license inside, and couldn't bite her tongue. "We haven't held hands in forever. It feels off to me." The car went dead quiet. She was right. Their physical closeness had dwindled so much that even she couldn't pinpoint the last time. Bradly's brow creased, and he snapped the cigarette filter clean off between his fingers. "What was that?" Stella met his eyes steadily. "From here on out, let's skip the pointless touchy-feely stuff. It just doesn't sit right." She hadn't even finished when the brakes screeched harshly. The car lurched to a halt on the empty shoulder of the road. Stella almost smacked into the window from the force, her pulse hammering as she barked, "Are you out of your mind?" Bradly loomed over her, fingers digging into her chin, irritation boiling in his glare. "Stella, do you have any idea what you're saying?" The pinch stung like crazy, and the absurdity of it all hit her as she wrestled to shove him off. "Is it not true? When's the last time we even held hands. Can you remember?" Bradly's gaze turned stormy, like she'd struck a raw spot. "I bet you're hung up on Milford, just like that girl from the second branch. That's why you pulled away in front of him. You're trying to cut ties with me?" "Bradly! What the hell are you babbling about?" Anger surged through her as she pushed harder. "Don't you dare pin your gross history on me!" The way the family had orbited Milford like he was the sun had obviously gotten under his skin. The more she resisted, the darker his look grew. Abruptly, he leaned in and smashed his mouth against hers. Stella's eyes flew wide, her head whipping aside to evade as she hammered at his shoulders with everything she had. He'd locked lips with Shanna god knows how often. The thought turned her stomach, so she clamped down and bit him hard. Bradly yelped in pain, jerking back as the fog cleared and he clocked what he'd just done, regret flashing across his face. Blood dotted his lip, but he brushed it off, lunging to wrap her in his arms. "I'm sorry, Stella, baby, I'm so sorry. I screwed up; it was a stupid impulse..." Drained of energy, Stella sagged into the passenger seat, letting him hold her while a barren wave of emptiness and revulsion washed over her. The hug she'd once melted into now repulsed her to her core. "Get off me." Her voice came out rough and scratchy. "Bradly, don't push me to hating you."
Chapter 1 Don't Want Him Anymore "I'm sorry, ma'am." On the other end of the line, the insurance customer service rep said coolly, "After checking our records, the car owner, Mr. Woodard, is indeed married, but the spouse listed here isn't you." Stella Daniels had gotten into a car accident on her way to the Woodard Group headquarters. She couldn't get through to Bradly Woodard on his phone, so she had no choice but to call the insurance company. The car was registered in Bradly's name, but as his wife, she should be able to process the claim too. "When Mr. Woodard picked up the car, he came with his wife and provided the original marriage license. Her last name is Erickson, and her full name is Shanna Erickson," the rep said. It hit Stella like a slap in the face. Dizziness washed over her in waves, leaving her whole body shaking uncontrollably. She and Bradly had been childhood sweethearts. Their families were old friends, and everyone in Ostralver's high society knew how clingy he was with her. Bradly couldn't stand being apart from her even for a single day. Three years ago, when Stella headed abroad for her studies, Bradly had the plane stopped just for her. During her three years in Ensland, he expanded his business overseas to make it easier to look after her. Sixteen thousand miles apart, he'd still fly across the ocean every week to see her. The year she came down with a severe lung illness and nearly didn't pull through, she spent a week in intensive care. Bradly ignored the infection risks and stayed right by her side, sliding a ring onto her finger. He said, "If anything happens to you, I'll go with you. We'll be husband and wife in the next life too." For Bradly's sake, she turned down her mentor's offer to stay on in the lab and headed back home. Brimming with excitement, she went to find him, planning to surprise him. But when she pushed open the door to the CEO's office, she saw a slender, pretty woman straddling his lap. The woman's innocent face tilted upward, her voice whiny and aggrieved. "Mr. Woodard, what happens to me now that Stella is back?" Bradly sat in his executive chair, his tall frame looming over her. A flash of ruthlessness crossed his stern features. "You? You're just her stand-in. Don't forget your place." He lifted his hand, pinching her delicate chin with a sneer. "Barely a three-out-of-ten resemblance, and you think you can compare to her?" Stella was still clutching the gift she'd prepared for him. With a loud "bang," it dropped to the floor, finally breaking the scene in the office. Bradly's face drained of color as he shoved the woman off and jumped to his feet. That woman was Shanna. After Stella caught them in the act, Bradly fired Shanna on the spot and pulled out all the stops to win her back. Bradly, the arrogant prince of Ostralver's elite circles, humbled himself to the dust before her, begging her to give him another chance. Any project she set her sights on, he'd drop without a second thought. He stood in the pouring rain outside her building for over a week, just for a glimpse of her. He said, "Stella, I'm not asking you to forgive me. At least let me explain. "I only ever saw Shanna as your replacement. You've been gone abroad for so long; I missed you terribly. I swear, I just kept her around. Nothing more ever happened between us. "That time you walked in, I'd had too much to drink, and she deliberately tempted me. I lost control for a moment... "I've already let her go, and she won't show up in our lives again. Stella, please, come back to me." Back then, Stella couldn't stand even the slightest betrayal. She insisted on breaking off the engagement. Until that one incident. She was kidnapped by a business rival. The kidnappers reneged on the deal, tied her up in an abandoned factory, and set the place ablaze. Bradly charged into the flames without a second thought to rescue her, shielding her from a collapsing steel beam. He ended up gravely injured, confined to bed for nearly six months. By risking his life, Bradly finally melted her resolve. Once he was out of the hospital, she accepted his proposal, and they threw a lavish wedding. In the two years since they tied the knot, he'd treated her just as devotedly as ever, with zero scandals. He even imposed a strict curfew on himself, heading home right on time every day. Even on out-of-town business trips, he'd video call her constantly. His partners would tease him about being henpecked. He never denied it. Instead, he'd grin proudly and say, "A real man takes care of his family." Memories rushed through Stella's mind like a whirlwind, every past moment flashing by in a blur. Her legs buckled, and she dropped to her knees, burying her face in her hands. She couldn't figure out which Bradly was the real one anymore. A bitter, mocking gleam sparked in her eyes. She thought, 'How absurd.' She'd been his wife for two years, and only now was she learning that even their marriage license had been a sham. Stella scrubbed her face hard, her bangs already soaked with cold sweat. She ignored the other driver's furious yelling and calmly dialed the police. They showed up fast. After finishing her statement, Stella left the station under a sky that had gone completely dark. Her phone lit up with several missed calls from Bradly. When she hadn't answered, he'd sent texts instead. Bradly: [Babe, I was tied up in a key meeting this afternoon. Signal jammers were on, so I missed your call. You okay?] Bradly: [I've got a client dinner tonight, so I'll be late getting home. I double-checked: no women involved, so no need to worry.] Bradly: [Head to bed early. Don't wait up. Love you.] Stella stared at the screen, a sharp wave of irony twisting in her gut. Bradly didn't stagger in until the wee hours. He reeked of alcohol, which almost, but not quite, masked the subtle whiff of perfume on him. "Honey..." He could barely keep his balance, stumbling over to wrap his arms around her through the blanket. "I missed you so damn much..." Stella didn't say a word. Only once he was dead to the world did she sit up quietly and unlock his phone with his fingerprint. The thing was squeaky clean, no suspicious traces at all. His contacts were mostly buddies and business folks, with hers pinned at the top as "Darling Wife." Flawlessly tidy, just like their sham of a marriage. Stella hooked the phone up to her computer, and it didn't take long to uncover his second WhatsApp account. She signed in, and right away, messages popped up from a profile with a cute pink kitten avatar, labeled "Baby." Shanna: [Bradly, thanks for tonight. Without you, I wouldn't have known what to do.] Shanna: [I've always thought meeting you was the luckiest thing that's ever happened to me. I won't intrude on your life. As long as you swing by to see me once in a while, that's enough to make me happy.] Stella scrolled back through the history. She'd suspected as much, but seeing it all laid out still hit her like a punch to the chest, leaving her breathless. They chatted nearly every day. Shanna never missed a good morning message, and Bradly's replies had shifted over time, from total silence at first, to sporadic responses, and now to answering every single one. A chill spread through her. Stella clutched the phone tighter, knowing she should quit while she was ahead but unable to stop herself from digging deeper. Shanna: [Bradly, sorry, I had a few drinks and lost it for a bit. Doc says I'm okay now, so don't stress.] Shanna: [Mrs. Woodard's birthday bash is important. Go enjoy it with her. I'll be fine.] Stella squeezed her eyes shut as the memory came rushing back. Her birthday. Bradly had spent over a month planning it down to the last detail, but that day, he was totally distracted. Hell, he almost cut his own hand while slicing the cake. When she'd asked what was up, he'd brushed it off as work drama, told her not to worry, then pulled her into a soft embrace and encouraged her to blow out the candles and make a wish. It all made sense now, as she stared at this chat log. That same day, Shanna had tried to kill herself by slashing her wrists and ended up in the ER. A sour bitterness flooded her chest like a rising tide. In those brief seconds when she'd closed her eyes to wish, she wondered, 'Was he agonizing over Shanna in the hospital, or picturing endless years together with her?' Stella knew she didn't need an answer to that anymore. She gently placed the phone back and looked down at Bradly, fast asleep beside her. She'd known him since she was four, and for the twenty years that followed, she'd truly believed his love was hers alone, irreplaceable. But now she saw it for what it was: just cheap free samples at a store, handed out to anyone who walked by. If that was all it amounted to, she was done with it. Chapter 2 Bid Against Her The next day, Stella woke to find Bradly busy in the kitchen, his broad shoulders narrowing to a slim waist, his tall, lean build moving with purpose. The sight hit her hard, a dull ache tightening in her chest. Bradly had learned to cook entirely for her sake. She still remembered that turbulent period when the Woodard Group was in crisis. His rivals had targeted her, paying off a servant to poison her food. She'd been unconscious for three full days. When she finally woke, Bradly was there, his eyes red-rimmed and veined with exhaustion, gripping her hand like a lifeline. The instant she stirred, the imposing Bradly crumbled forward, enveloping her in a hug as scalding tears fell onto her skin. From then on, Bradly threw himself into cooking lessons, taking charge of all her meals. In less than a month, he'd gone from a spoiled elite who couldn't distinguish spices to turning out dishes worthy of a Michelin chef. Just then, his phone rang. Stella glanced at it but made no move to answer. Bradly darted out of the kitchen, apron still on, grabbing the phone with a barely concealed flash of anxiety. Stella pretended not to notice and went to wash up. When she came back, the table was set with breakfast, and he was slipping into his suit jacket from the coat rack. Seeing her, he said gently, "There's an emergency at work. I have to run. Sorry I can't join you for breakfast." Stella murmured, "Sure, work comes first." He was clearly in a hurry, because he didn't pick up on the new edge of cool distance in her tone and rushed out. She stared blankly after him until he was gone, then dumped the entire spread into the trash. Then she picked up her phone and dialed a number. "That offer you made before? I'm on board." The person on the other end erupted in delight, chattering away before shifting to broken Andosa Language. "Stella, why the sudden change of heart? I've bugged you about this so many times, and you always said you were married now and focusing on family." A mocking glint flickered in Stella's eyes. She thought, 'Married? This so-called marriage has been dead on arrival.' The caller was her former mentor from her overseas studies. He'd reached out lately, hoping she'd join his new team and spearhead a major project. At the time, she'd kept saying no out of loyalty to Bradly. Now, she only wished she'd seen through the absurd joke of their marriage earlier. After the call, she contacted immigration to schedule a passport renewal. It would take about a week. But before heading out, she had one loose end to tie up. That evening, Stella showed up at a private auction at the Cloud Hotel. She was after one of her mother's keepsakes. Her mom had died when she was eight, and soon after, the Daniels family had liquidated her wedding gift. Stella had been hunting down the items ever since. Over the years, she'd only reclaimed a few. Tonight's auction featured a bracelet from that collection, one her mother had picked up on a trip to Ijance. It was utterly unique, irreplaceable. Whatever it took, she was getting it back. Stella settled into her seat just as the auction was about to start. She was flipping through the catalog when Bradly's voice floated over. "Didn't I already pick out that royal blue sapphire set for you? Not good enough?" His voice carried that familiar tenderness. Shanna linked her arm with his, pouting playfully. "Your taste sucks! I want to pick my own birthday gift." Stella watched them quietly until Bradly threaded through the guests and their gazes collided by chance. The color drained from his face. On pure reflex, he jerked his arm away from Shanna. "Stella." He strode over quickly. "I tried calling you a few times, but you didn't answer. Were you planning to surprise me?" Even though he tried to play it cool, she could still catch that subtle hint of panic in his expression. Stella didn't bother calling him on it, replying evenly, "My phone was on silent. I didn't hear it." Bradly visibly relaxed, casually taking her hand in his with a look of concern. "Your hands are like ice. Didn't I warn you about the cold snap today? You're always putting style over staying warm. If you catch a chill, you know it'll just kill me." As he talked, he signaled a server for a blanket and draped it snugly around her shoulders. Stella kept a straight face, brushing him off as she looked past him to Shanna, who lingered behind with a scowl. Shanna nibbled her lip, then defiantly dropped into the seat next to Bradly, her gaze simmering with irritation. Bradly leaned closer, dropping his voice to explain, "We just wrapped up a major project at the company, and Shanna pulled her weight big time. Her birthday's around the corner, so I thought I'd treat her to something as a project bonus." He eyed her anxiously. "Stella, you're not mad, right?" Shanna piped up in a soft, vulnerable tone. "Mrs. Woodard, if this upsets you, I'll just go. I don't want to get in the way of you and Mr. Woodard." Stella's mouth quirked into a smile that never touched her eyes. "We're married. A little thing like this? Of course it doesn't bother me." The auction got underway shortly after. Bradly treated Shanna like she was invisible, focusing entirely on Stella. He paged through the catalog, throwing in bids left and right. "Babe, this would look amazing on you." He grinned, tenderly brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his tone warm and intimate. "You'd be gorgeous in it." Stella averted her eyes, but out of the corner of her vision, she saw Shanna discreetly clutching the edge of Bradly's jacket in the dim light. Their gazes locked for a split second in a shared, lingering look. She masked the derision in her own eyes, struck by how absurd it all was. Bradly seemed totally at ease juggling both women, convinced he was keeping things balanced, one with the official status, the other with his undivided public attention. She thought, 'What could be fairer than that?' But Stella had never been interested in that kind of equilibrium. Her world extended far beyond romance. Bradly? He was just a small detour on her path, a misstep she'd own up to. And now, it was time to set things right. "Next up: a string of bracelet. Fine-grained texture, deep aroma that lingers. Starting bid at 170,000 dollars, with increments of at least 20,000 dollars!" The auctioneer's pumped-up voice echoed through the room. Finally, Stella's main target for the evening. Bids flew in fast, the screen flickering with updates as the auctioneer called out, "Number 17 lady at 200,000 dollars! Number 9 gentleman ups it to 260,000 dollars! Going higher?" Once the initial frenzy tapered off, Stella lifted her paddle. "500,000 dollars." She'd doubled the current bid in one go. It was a hefty amount. Sure, the bracelet was top-notch, but it wasn't the auction's highlight. The room went quiet after her call; no one countered. "Fantastic! Number 11 lady at 500,000 dollars! "500,000 dollars once! 500,000 dollars twice!" The auctioneer hoisted his gavel, poised to bring it down. "No more bids? Then 500,000 dollars—" "520,000 dollars," A gentle, hesitant voice interrupted. Shanna shrank against Bradly's side, paddle in hand, murmuring timidly to him, "Is this where I put in the amount?" Chapter 3 You're Dirty Stella frowned and raised her bid. "540,000 dollars." But Shanna was right behind her, countering with, "560,000 dollars." How annoyingly precise, each time, she stuck to the bare minimum, slapping on just 20,000 dollars more than Stella's offer. Shanna turned toward her, her voice dripping with plea. "Stella, you've got plenty of jewelry already. Please, let me have this one. I adore it. "I'm not like you, born with money, everything handed to you on a silver platter. You snap your fingers and get whatever you want. If it goes any higher, I really won't be able to keep up." Stella didn't bother looking at her, just quirking her lips in a thin smile. "Isn't Mr. Woodard covering the cost for you? What are you stressing about?" Shanna's face went a shade paler, but she answered in that soft, demure tone, "Even so, Mr. Woodard earns his money the hard way. If I can save him a bit, I ought to." She was the epitome of considerate and caring. After several more back-and-forth bids, the bracelet's price had soared to 700,000 dollars. Stella let out a chilly scoff and was opening her mouth to up the ante when Bradly beat her to it. He said, "Babe, why don't we just let Shanna take this bracelet?" Stella's fingers curled into a tight fist, her nails biting into her palm. She lifted her gaze, any lingering warmth in her eyes turning to ice. "What did you just say?" Bradly let out a resigned sigh, giving her hand a comforting pat as he murmured gently, "Babe, I already told Shanna she'd get a gift tonight, and she's got her heart set on this one. No need to compete with her. "Plus, I've already snagged you a handful of other pieces. Isn't that plenty?" He said it all lightly, teasingly, as if it were nothing more than a harmless quip. Stella shut her eyes, a nameless sourness creeping along her nerves, coiling around her heart until it felt like she couldn't draw a breath. Given Shanna's modest background, 700,000 dollars was way out of her league. She wouldn't even make the guest list here on her own. The only reason she was in that seat, trading bids blow for blow, was Bradly's backing. His pampering had delivered her straight into Stella's path. Stella whispered, "What if I refuse to back down?" She hoisted her paddle once more, her voice echoing through the room. "1 million dollars." A hush blanketed the hall. The auctioneer clearly picked up on the drama, his delivery faltering. "Number eleven at 1 million dollars. Do I hear higher?" Shanna's eyes welled up, on the verge of tears, as she cast a helpless look at Bradly before tacking on another fifty thousand. "1 million 20 thousand dollars." Stella's features hardened to frost, and she was poised to fire back when the manager bustled over, bending close to murmur, "Mrs. Woodard, apologies. We ran a credit verification on your account, and it's frozen. Got another one we can use?" The words slammed into her like a bolt from the blue, ringing in her ears. She snapped her head toward Bradly, but he'd already looked away. An icy numbness spread through her arms and legs. She though,t 'Of course, it has to be him.' Her primary account was linked with his; besides her, only he could authorize a freeze on her cards. Triumph flickered in Shanna's eyes as she added with a pointed edge, "Well, in that case, Mrs. Woodard, maybe it's time to step aside. You've got so much already. Can't you let me have this one little thing?" Up on stage, the auction rolled on, the display frozen on Shanna's latest bid: 1 million 20 thousand dollars. Shanna could hardly hide her glee, chirping sweetly, "Go on, call it!" But the words had barely left her lips when someone announced he would bid for the lot at any costs right in the second-floor VIP suite. After a momentary silence, the room burst into chaos. "He's declared absolute intent!" Even the auctioneer's expression changed. He'd been in the game for over a decade, but this was his first encounter with such a scenario. He hurriedly called out, "Lot number six goes to the gentleman in box 217, regardless of how high the price goes." Anyone up in those second-floor VIP suites was either swimming in money or held serious sway in Ostralver's upper crust. Stella glanced upward toward the source of the voice, catching only a vague outline behind the draped curtains. Even when she couldn't see his face, the man's crossed-legged posture radiated an unspoken dominance that pressed down on the room. The auctioneer slammed his gavel down with finality, proclaiming, "Congratulations to our esteemed guest in box 217 on winning lot number six! You're now upgraded to black gold status!" Across all of Ostralver's elite scene, fewer than a handful had ever hit black gold level at these events. Stella wondered, 'Just who is this mystery man?' Stella loosened her clenched fist slightly, torn between relief that her mother's heirloom hadn't landed in Shanna's clutches and anxiety over reclaiming it from this unknown figure. No matter what, she'd stop at nothing, pay any price, to bring her mother's possession home. She rose to her feet, intent on marching over to box 217 for a chat, when the attendant who'd just ducked inside reappeared, tray in hand with the bracelet. "What's this? The bidder in 217 having second thoughts?" "Auctions don't do take-backs." "Probably short on funds. I called it. No one's done this here before." As the murmurs swirled, the attendant headed straight for Stella, dipping into a courteous bow with a warm smile. She said, "Mrs. Woodard, the gentleman in box 217 requests that I deliver the bracelet to you as a gift. He wishes for you to follow your true path and for all to unfold as it should." The place erupted in gossip once more, with guests shooting glances her way, some envious, others skeptical, many flat-out stunned. "Isn't that Mrs. Woodard? What's her deal with the upstairs guy?" "Likely just buttering up Mr. Woodard." "Nah, I don't buy it. Out of all the goodies tonight, why zero in on those beads for Mrs. Woodard? Sounds like she's got a real connection there." The buzz filtered through, and Bradly's face turned stone-cold. In a tight, edged voice, he demanded, "Stella, what's the story with you and whoever's in box 217?" Stella held his piercing stare and said flatly, "I have no idea who he is." "!" Bradly jumped up, clamping down on her wrist like a vice. Her soft, fair skin reddened almost instantly under the pressure. Stella winced sharply, jerking her arm back on reflex. "Bradly, have you lost your mind? Haven't you stirred up enough drama for one day?" But he barreled on, blind to her fury, his reddened eyes locked on her as if he could swallow her up. "What's really between you two? "Stella, through all our married years, I've bent over backward for you. Anything you desired, I served it up without question. Why would you betray me like this?" In his mind, it was already a done deal: she was entangled in something shady with the man above. If the guy was angling for a favor from him, Bradly would've recognized him right away. People in Ostralver didn't beat around the bush when they needed something from him. They came direct. The jab landed raw and direct. Bradly blinked, frozen for a beat as a flicker of alarm shot through his eyes. Chapter 4 Don't Know You'd Come Bradly said, "I'm sorry, Stella. I didn't mean it like that. I had no right getting jealous over you and some stranger. It's all on me." Bradly's eyes reddened. "But honestly, there's nothing going on between Shanna and me. I just brought her along as a thank-you. Can you let this slide?" Seeing his cue, Shanna ducked her head meekly, her voice catching. "That's right, Mrs. Woodard. I've been bending over backward to keep my distance from Mr. Woodard so you wouldn't get the wrong impression. "I'm not asking for the world, just a decent birthday gift. I didn't grow up with your advantages; you've had everything handed to you and even snagged a catch like Mr. Woodard. Can't I at least pick out something for myself?" "Just a gift, huh?" Stella closed in on her, one step at a time. "Ms. Erickson, I've never given a damn about this 'gift' you're going on about. What gets under my skin is you, a Woodard Group employee, crossing lines you have no business crossing." As they drew closer, Bradly instinctively stepped in front of Shanna, his voice soft and coaxing. "Stella, if it's bugging you this much, I'll transfer her to a branch office once the auction's over. "But for now, cut me some slack. Let Shanna have the bracelet. When we get home, name your price on anything, and it's yours." Shanna bobbed her head in agreement, tears glistening on her lashes as she pleaded, "Stella, I really adore this bracelet. You've got it all already. Why go after the one thing I want? "Or is this just because you hate my guts and can't resist taking shots at me?" "What makes you think I'd ever like you?" Stella let out a cold snort. "This belonged to me from the start. Why the hell would I give it up?" She took the bracelet from the attendant with casual ease, her smile sharp but empty. "Ms. Erickson, know your place." Her refusal to budge finally wore through Bradly's patience, erasing every bit of softness from his face. "Stella, do you have to humiliate me like this in front of everyone? Where does that leave my dignity? "It's just a crappy old bracelet. Am I really worth less to you than some trinket?" He said it with such conviction, as if he'd wiped from his memory the solemn vow he'd made when proposing: that he'd hunt down every single one of her mother's sold-off keepsakes, no matter what. Stella's hand flew up, delivering a resounding slap across his cheek. The sharp crack rang out, pulling shocked stares from every corner of the room. Bradly's head snapped sideways, his face livid as he fixed her with a glare, his words hissing through clenched teeth. "Stella, drop the drama already. Have I pampered you too much these days, turning you into this unreasonable nightmare?" Stella reined in her temper, keeping her tone even. "Bradly, you better not live to regret today." Without another word, she turned and walked out, not sparing a backward glance. As her figure receded, Shanna gently touched the angry red mark on Bradly's cheek, her voice full of worry. "Mr. Woodard, are you okay? "Stella's got no boundaries. How could she hit you with all these people watching?" Bradly swatted her hand aside, his nails digging into his palm as he stared after her retreating path. "I've spoiled her rotten, letting her forget that everything she has comes from me." Shanna peeked at his changing expression, testing the waters. "Mr. Woodard, about the bracelet..." Bradly rubbed his throbbing cheek, pulled a bank card from his pocket, and handed it over. "1.7 million dollars on there. Buy whatever catches your eye." Box 217, Stella rapped on the door, eager to thank the mystery bidder face-to-face. Silence. She caught a server walking by. "Excuse me, any idea where the gentleman from this box headed?" "He slipped out right after nabbing the last item," the server said. Disappointment flashed in her eyes, but Stella pressed on, "Do you know who he was?" The server gave her a regretful smile. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard, we're not allowed to spill on our VIPs. Don't make this harder for us." Catching herself, Stella moved out of the way. "Thanks all the same." By the time she made it home from the auction, an hour had ticked by. Stella went straight up to the study, fired up the computer, and dove into the assets registered under her and Bradly's names. After tallying up the numbers, she snatched her phone, found lawyer Rubin Cobb's contact, and hit dial. She said, "I've sorted out the asset division documents for me and Bradly and sent them over. I need you to handle the property split by tomorrow." Rubin quickly received the files and nodded respectfully. "Of course, Mrs. Woodard. I'll get right on it." Stella stared intently at her computer screen, her grip tightening on the mouse. "If Bradly's committed bigamy, how should our assets be divided?" "Generally, any property the bigamous party gained through the bigamy can be claimed back by the other spouse," Rubin replied matter-of-factly. Half of Bradly's current wealth had come from Stella's investments to support his career early on. Her expression darkened, and she promptly forwarded the marriage license between him and Shanna. "Rubin, please use every legal avenue to recover my half of the assets." After hanging up, Stella slumped back in her chair, utterly drained physically and emotionally. She closed her eyes slowly, but sleep was nowhere in sight. Bradly would never agree to a divorce. Until she had everything locked down, she couldn't let on that anything was amiss. Just then, the study door was kicked open from the outside. Bradly flung his jacket onto the desk and yanked Stella up from her seat in front of the computer. "Do you realize that because of your little outburst, I've become a laughingstock in our circles? "What exactly do you want? Are you still obsessing over what happened back then?" Stella opened her eyes slowly, her gaze settling calmly on Bradly, but she remained silent. A fire raged in Bradly's chest, intensifying by the second, and he couldn't hold back his fury any longer. "Since we got married, have I ever done anything to wrong you? I come home right on time every night after work, I always fill you in on any business dinners, and if there's even a hint of a woman involved, I skip them entirely! I've bent over backward, and it's still not good enough for you?" He remembered every detail crystal clear. In his mind, these were the sacrifices he'd made to marry her. Stella suddenly found the whole thing absurd. She couldn't bear to look at him anymore, so she stood up and walked straight out of the study without a backward glance. Behind her, Bradly's voice echoed heavily. "Stella, no matter what you think, my conscience is clear." It felt like Stella's heart had been shattered into icy fragments, a sharp, bitter pain surging through her. Her mind buzzed, and for a moment, all she could hear was that phrase repeating over and over. She thought, 'My conscience is clear? So, in his eyes, everything he's done is perfectly justifiable.' The next morning, when Stella woke up, Bradly was already gone. On the table sat the breakfast he'd prepared, tailored exactly to her tastes. Stella pressed her lips together, her feelings a complicated tangle. They'd ended things on a sour note last night, yet Bradly had still made her breakfast this morning. But this was the same man who'd lied to her for years. No matter what, it was time to end things with Bradly. She didn't touch the food and headed straight to the office. These past few years, she'd stayed out of Bradly's business dealings. A lot of her old financial records were outdated now, and she needed the latest reports. The secretary looked startled when she saw her, then managed to say, "Mrs. Woodard, are you here to see Mr. Woodard?" "No." Stella replied evenly. "Send the finance manager in to see me." Her shares were second only to Bradly's, giving her full access to every aspect of the company. The secretary hesitated briefly before nodding. Stella noticed her immediately turning to make a phone call, probably alerting Bradly. Stella didn't intervene; let her. She settled into the finance office, sipping her coffee absentmindedly while flipping through magazines on the shelf. Most were glossy entertainment rags, mixed in with novels and comics. Stella frowned, only now picking up on the details: the desk was covered in a pink plaid mat, cluttered with adorable plush toys. The standout pair was a set of couple dolls, their outfits emblazoned with the letters W and E. It hit Stella suddenly what that meant, and just then, the door behind her swung open. Shanna rushed in. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard." She was clutching a cup of coffee as she apologized. "I had no idea you'd drop by like this..." Chapter 5 All For Milford Stella arched an eyebrow as she looked her over. "So you're the finance manager?" Shanna nodded with a quick smile. "That's me. If you need anything at all, just say the word. Bradly, well, Mr. Woodard is tied up in a meeting right now. But don't worry, I'll make sure to relay whatever message you have." Stella let out a soft laugh. "No need for that." She regarded Shanna with clear curiosity. "I'm not looking for Bradly. I'm here to see you." Shanna's smile faltered for a moment before she recovered, her tone turning gentle. "Mrs. Woodard, I get that you're still bothered by what went down at the auction last night, but there's no reason to be so worked up about my connection to Mr. Woodard. After all..." She raised her hand, the elegant diamond ring on her finger glinting under the light, perfectly complementing her bashful grin. "I'm already married, and things are great between me and my husband." Stella's eyes locked on the ring, her breath hitching just for an instant. It was ridiculous. In this whole messed-up situation, she was the one playing the role of the mistress. The ring was an exact match for the one Bradly had given her during his proposal. But within seconds, Stella averted her gaze. "It's a lovely ring, but you're mistaken." She spoke unhurriedly, "I'm just here to grab the latest financial report from you. That's all." Stella caught the sour shift in Shanna's expression and smiled to herself. "Seems like you're the one on edge here, Ms. Erickson." Shanna's face transformed completely, that smug spark in her eyes snuffed out. She bit her lip, unable to find words for a long beat. Stella watched her with unruffled poise. "Do I need to repeat my request, Ms. Erickson?" The words had barely left her mouth when Bradly burst in, his expression clouding over at the sight. "Stella, wasn't the scene from last night enough?" His voice was laced with ice. "How long are you planning to drag this out? I've told you already. There's nothing going on between me and Shanna. If you don't believe me..." Stella interrupted him mid-sentence, "Oh, I believe you. Absolutely." A faint smirk tugged at her lips, though her eyes remained frosty as they settled on Shanna. "After all, Ms. Erickson's already married. She just mentioned it herself." The statement landed like a bomb. Shanna's face drained of color, and Bradly's followed suit. He shot her a withering glare. Tears sprang to Shanna's eyes in an instant. Stella had no interest in watching the drama unfold any further. She said evenly, "I'm here for this year's financials. I hold forty percent of the company. Surely I can access that, right?" Bradly seemed to snap back to reality, nodding hastily. "Of course you can." He barked orders at the secretary to fetch it immediately, all the while stealing wary glances at her face. Once he confirmed she wasn't giving anything away, he exhaled almost imperceptibly in relief. He said, "Stella, what's with the sudden interest? You've never bothered with company matters before." Stella answered coolly, "After the account freeze last night, I decided it's smarter to set up a separate one." Bradly's expression froze again. "Stella..." The secretary returned promptly with the report. Stella brushed Bradly aside, skimmed through it quickly, and was heading for the door when he caught her by the wrist. He said, "Stella, about the family dinner tonight, are you coming home with me?" His tone was pleading, like he needed her answer to reassure himself that she hadn't caught on to anything fishy. Stella didn't look back, just replying calmly, "Sure." Bradly's face lit up. "Great, I'll swing by after work to pick you up." Stella dropped her gaze, masking the cool detachment in her eyes. She'd only agreed to head back to the family estate for one specific reason. The marriage license from when she and Bradly had tied the knot was a phony, but he'd made a whole production out of stashing it away at the house, claiming it had to be kept secure. Nothing could serve as stronger proof. Once she got her hands on it, his bigamy would be ironclad. Stella didn't bother waiting for Bradly; she hailed a cab and got there ahead of time. She'd figured it was just a standard family gathering, but she was caught off guard by the full turnout. Bradly's parents, fresh from their overseas vacation last week, were back, and even the distant relatives from the Woodard family's side branches had shown up en masse. "Stella, dear." As she walked in, Nadine Woodard peered over her shoulder. "Bradly didn't come with you?" Stella answered evenly, "He'll be along shortly." Nadine clicked her tongue, her irritation obvious. "On an important occasion like this, letting someone from outside the family arrive solo, what's got into him?" Stella's brow furrowed just a touch. She and Bradly had been engaged since childhood, but after her mother's passing, the Daniels family's status had tanked while the Woodard family kept climbing. That was when Nadine started pushing to scrap the arrangement, and she'd mentioned it more than a few times. But Chuck Woodard was upright and principled, flat-out refusing to play the social-climbing game. With Bradly dead set on marrying her and no one else, Nadine had reluctantly given in, though she made her resentment clear. Even after the marriage, she never passed up an opportunity to give Stella the cold shoulder. She was about to add something else when the butler rushed in and murmured, "He's here." Nadine promptly dropped the subject with Stella and jumped to her feet, the extended family hustling out right behind her to welcome the arrivals. The level of pomp surprised Stella. The Woodard family was already at the top of Ostralver's social elite. For them to pull out all the stops like this... Standing at the edge of the group, Stella glanced up and saw a black Maybach rolling up to the front of the estate. Someone hurried forward to open the door respectfully, and a tall, imposing figure stepped out unhurriedly. The man wore a sleek black suit, his chiseled features sharp, eyes as midnight, radiating a fierce intensity. Every gesture exuded a natural poise and authority that made it tough to hold his stare. The crowd swarmed forward in a rush, but he stayed cool and detached the whole time, his stunningly handsome face as impassive as carved ice, showing zero emotion. Then, as if picking up on something, he looked up toward Stella. Their eyes locked unexpectedly, sending her heart pounding. It was Milford Woodard, Bradly's brother. He'd returned to the country. Though they were brothers in name, Milford wasn't all that tight with the family. He'd headed overseas young and had spent years growing the business abroad. His father Edward Woodard was a total lightweight, good only at spending cash, not earning it. His grandpa Chuck had the smarts and drive, but age was catching up, leaving him unable to manage it all. Real power over the Woodard family had shifted to Milford ages ago. Stella let out a quiet breath. She thought, 'That explains the big crowd today. They've all turned out for Milford.' Chapter 6 Need Help? Stella lingered in the corner of the living room, watching the relatives descend like a swarm of locusts, all scrambling to surround Milford. Bradly stood next to Nadine, flashing a polished smile as he greeted, "Hey, Milford." The uncles who'd been buttering up Bradly just a minute ago quickly switched gears, beaming with over-the-top enthusiasm as they stepped up to say hello. "Milford, what prompted the sudden return?" "Milford, I hear you're in the middle of acquiring a domestic company? You're just getting more impressive by the day." "Come on inside, take a seat. We've got some top-shelf coffee." Bradly caught the stark contrast in the uncles' warmth, his smile fading briefly before he pulled it together and led the way forward. Stella quietly eyed the tall, strikingly handsome Milford striding into the living room like the star of the show, instinctively edging back a step. Now fully pushed to the fringes of the crowd, she shifted aside to let the trailing group pass, doing everything she could to blend into the wallpaper. Milford approached steadily. Unlike Bradly's flashy, outgoing vibe, he had a more brooding, aloof kind of handsomeness, like a pine tree blanketed in snow, regal and intimidating. He acknowledged the flattery around him with simple nods, his eyes scanning the room casually, subtly taking stock of everyone there. Until his gaze swept over Stella again, and he came to an abrupt halt. He paused, causing Bradly to stop too. "Something wrong, Milford?" Milford didn't respond, his steady gaze fixed on Stella. It was only a look, but it jolted her to her core. She felt an odd sense of being claimed, uninvited. Yet she'd barely crossed paths with Milford before. Bradly and the others traced his stare, his eyebrow quirking up. "Stella, come say hi to Big Milford." Stella started to step forward, but Milford beat her to it, walking straight toward her. Bradly and the rest exchanged surprised glances. So far, everyone had been approaching Milford. He hadn't initiated with a soul. Milford's deep eyes gave nothing away. "Stella?" Her breath hitched, like a faint breeze had brushed her ear. She hadn't anticipated him coming over to chat. It had been years, and they'd only met once or twice, but he still remembered her. Stella nodded. "Milford, it's been ages—" Before she could finish, Milford held out his hand. The move was so casual, so natural. Out of pure reflex and politeness, Stella extended hers, their palms connecting. In that brief clasp, she felt him squeeze gently, his thumb settling on her fingers and grazing them with a warm intensity. Milford released after just a second. Suddenly, Bradly sidled up, drawing Stella into his side with an arm around her waist, lacing his fingers through her left hand. He said, "Milford, how long are you in town this time? Stella and I can take you out to dinner one of these days." Milford took in their cozy pose, his glance dropping to their intertwined hands. "About a month." The words had barely left his mouth when Chuck came down the stairs, leaning on the butler for support. Milford headed over to talk with him. Not long after, the kitchen called that the party was ready. Stella trailed Bradly to their seats on the left side of the main table. Everyone filed in and sat. As the eldest branch, the two Woodard brothers took priority. Chuck claimed the head of the main table, with Nadine and Milford next in line. Stella and Bradly fell further down the order, landing her right across from Milford on the diagonal. The family feast got underway, with everyone firing questions at Milford about what he'd been up to lately. Stella kept her head down, nibbling at her food while catching bits of the conversation. Zrester bigwig, major stakeholder in Wonder Group, founder of that financial exchange and the smart transportation AI... Milford's credentials were endless and mind-blowing. She thought back to that Zrester party invite list she'd snagged years ago. Milford was third from the top, while she languished at the bottom. In all these years, she'd had next to no interaction with him. Right after the wedding, this mysterious Milford had only shown up once. He dropped off a gift and vanished. In just a handful of years, Milford had climbed to the pinnacle of Zrester's power players. His talent was obvious. Before long, the family party wound down, and folks scattered to grab desserts. Still hung up on that marriage license, Stella excused herself to head upstairs for a coat change. Bradly was itching to chat with Milford, his gaze fixed that way as he muttered distractedly, "Yeah, go on up." Stella wasted no time hustling upstairs. With the crowd milling about downstairs, she slipped to the third floor of the villa and nudged open Bradly's bedroom door. There it was: the glaring marriage license perched right on top of the nightstand, framed, flanked by their wedding portrait. As she stepped closer, memories of Bradly's cozy moments with Shanna flooded her brain, her nails digging slowly into her palm. That license seared her eyes, like it was sneering at her gullibility. She never should've caved, never should've handed Bradly a second shot. It just went to show that people's hearts circled back for seconds. Disgust flickered in her eyes as she hauled the desk's computer chair over, the kind with wheels and a swivel, shaky at best. She climbed onto it, planting one foot on the bed for stability, teetering just enough to hold steady. Stella hiked up her pearl-white knee-length dress a bit and stretched upward slowly. Fingers extended to the max, but she was still a couple inches shy. She rose onto her tiptoes, straining, but no dice. Frowning from her perch, she scanned around and snagged a book from beside the cabinet. As she leaned down, footsteps suddenly echoed outside the door. Fast, but measured. A man's, for sure. Her pulse spiked. She clutched the table, scrambling to hop down, but, perfect timing, her other sleeve caught on the cabinet's edge. She tugged frantically to break free, but it was too late to descend. The door flew open out of nowhere. Stella went rigid, her knees giving way as she toppled backward off the chair. A quick yelp escaped her, but the expected crash never hit. A firm hand latched precisely onto her thigh, another banding around her waist, hauling her into a solid hold and planting her feet firmly on the floor. She slammed into a warm, toned chest, a crisp, grounding sandalwood aroma enveloping her, not Bradly's scent. Stella glanced up, nearly clipping the guy's chin. Milford let go right away, backing off a step to give her space. Her cheeks burned, the thigh he'd gripped feeling like it was on fire. Mortified and frozen, she stammered, "Th-thanks." Milford stayed composed, his eyes skimming her flushed face and the pinkened patch of skin on her thigh from his hold. His Adam's apple dipped subtly. "Didn't realize you were in here. My bad." Stella shook her head, even more flustered. She was the one imposing on him. Milford flicked a glance upward. "Need some help?" She looked too. Up top, the marriage license screamed for attention. Chapter 7 Don't Let Me Hate You Stella just came out with it. "I want to get the marriage license down." Milford hesitated for a beat, without probing why she needed it, and slid the chair out of the way. Tall and long-limbed, he barely had to tip up on his toes to snag it effortlessly. Milford skimmed the lettering on the license, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes before the faintest quirk tugged at his lips, almost undetectable. He passed it over to Stella. "Ah, I see." She missed the words, taking it with a soft murmur: "Thanks, Milford." Her palms were slick with sweat now, but holding the certificate still sent an icy shiver through her. Those bold letters were a brutal reminder. This whole marriage had been one big joke. From beginning to end, Bradly's grand performance of undying love had always had a third wheel in the shadows. Milford dropped his gaze. Towering over her, all he could make out was the neat swirl at the top of her head, round and oddly appealing. Those slim, pale hands gripped the certificate like a vise, completely bloodless. Milford asked offhandedly, "So, what's the marriage license for?" "Oh, I just want to bring it home and store it there," Stella shot back, pulling an excuse out of thin air. Milford's stare felt like it enveloped her, the heat of it almost scorching, though he kept his hands to himself. Then he casually adjusted his cufflinks and turned to go. Stella let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, sagging against the cool cabinet. Her thigh still tingled with warmth from his grip; she quickly smoothed her skirt down, tucked the license into her bag, and only left the room once everything looked undisturbed. Bradly was still out in the back garden, deep in conversation. Stella kept her face neutral, strolling over to stand at his side. A few relatives were chatting with him. "Hey, word is Milford actually got back a couple days ago, but only tipped us off today." Bradly looked taken aback. "I thought he was flying in today?" "Nope, sounds like he hit up some auction. I only heard bits and pieces, supposedly the other night at the Empire Auction House." "He must not have gone. I was there that evening too, and I didn't see him anywhere," Bradly said, frowning in confusion. Stella's eyelashes flickered subtly, but she played it cool. Out of nowhere, her mind jumped back to that enigmatic bidder in suite 217. She wondered, 'Could Milford be the mystery guest who got the bracelet for me?' She shoved the thought down as soon as it surfaced. They'd only crossed paths once, total strangers really, connected by the flimsiest in-law tie. No matter how you sliced it, Milford wouldn't stick his neck out for her. Just like Bradly said, he hadn't caught wind of anything, so it couldn't be Milford. Stella let it go. After some more mingling, the group started to break up. Bradly steered her over to bid farewell to Milford. "Mom, Milford, we're taking off. Let's set up a family dinner soon when things settle." Milford slouched back in his chair with effortless nonchalance and gave a nod. "I'm knee-deep in an acquisition, no hurry on the get-together. But you..." He lifted his head, his expression sharpening. "Keep your life on the straight and narrow. Don't veer off track." The edge of warning in his voice was crystal clear. Bradly had grown up overshadowed by Milford; he went rigid but brushed it off casually. "Come on, everything's good. My company's running smooth as ever. If you're skeptical, drop by anytime and pore over the financials—knock yourself out." "It's not just about the company," Milford said softly, eyes down as he savored a sip of coffee. Stella couldn't help stealing a glance at him, and in that instant, a ridiculous idea struck her. From what Bradly had mentioned, Milford was abroad most of the time but still had the inside scoop on everything back home. She wondered, 'Does he know about the shady stuff Bradly is up to on the sly?' "Milford, I hear you. I'll make sure to nurture my marriage with Stella, our whole life together." Bradly grinned, threading his fingers through Stella's. Milford's gaze lingered on their joined hands for a second before drifting away, sealed with a subtle nod. Stella had no desire for any more close contact with Bradly, so she subtly shook his hand free without thinking. A split second later, his disbelieving stare locked onto her face, and he tried to grab her again. She'd known her move would humiliate him in the moment, so she didn't bother saying goodbye to Milford. She just turned and walked out ahead. Once they slid into the car, Bradly shed his polite, deferential mask from earlier, reverting to his entitled rich-kid swagger. He tugged his tie loose, a flicker of annoyance pinching his brows. "Always playing the big-brother card to chew me out, same crap since we were little. "So what if he's crushing it overseas? I'm holding my own just fine back home. Who in Ostralver would even think about messing with me?" Bradly fished out a menthol cigarette on autopilot, ready to light up, but he caught himself after glancing at Stella and shoved it back. He said, "All these years, folks have been whispering, or saying it straight to my face, that my company's thriving because of his pull. Like he's behind every damn thing. "And you? You flat-out refused to let me hold your hand back there. Trying to make me look like an idiot in front of him?" His expression iced over, the edge in his voice impossible to miss. Stella's frown deepened as she took it in. Even without knowing Milford all that well, she understood that Bradly's cocky antics in Ostralver, brushing people off like they were nothing, had always been propped up by Milford's clout. She'd assumed the brothers were tight, but clearly Bradly's respect was just for show; underneath, his grudge against Milford simmered deep. She could overlook a lot, but with things the way they were now, there was zero point in him putting on that phony hand-holding act. Stella gripped her bag, the one with the marriage license inside, and couldn't bite her tongue. "We haven't held hands in forever. It feels off to me." The car went dead quiet. She was right. Their physical closeness had dwindled so much that even she couldn't pinpoint the last time. Bradly's brow creased, and he snapped the cigarette filter clean off between his fingers. "What was that?" Stella met his eyes steadily. "From here on out, let's skip the pointless touchy-feely stuff. It just doesn't sit right." She hadn't even finished when the brakes screeched harshly. The car lurched to a halt on the empty shoulder of the road. Stella almost smacked into the window from the force, her pulse hammering as she barked, "Are you out of your mind?" Bradly loomed over her, fingers digging into her chin, irritation boiling in his glare. "Stella, do you have any idea what you're saying?" The pinch stung like crazy, and the absurdity of it all hit her as she wrestled to shove him off. "Is it not true? When's the last time we even held hands. Can you remember?" Bradly's gaze turned stormy, like she'd struck a raw spot. "I bet you're hung up on Milford, just like that girl from the second branch. That's why you pulled away in front of him. You're trying to cut ties with me?" "Bradly! What the hell are you babbling about?" Anger surged through her as she pushed harder. "Don't you dare pin your gross history on me!" The way the family had orbited Milford like he was the sun had obviously gotten under his skin. The more she resisted, the darker his look grew. Abruptly, he leaned in and smashed his mouth against hers. Stella's eyes flew wide, her head whipping aside to evade as she hammered at his shoulders with everything she had. He'd locked lips with Shanna god knows how often. The thought turned her stomach, so she clamped down and bit him hard. Bradly yelped in pain, jerking back as the fog cleared and he clocked what he'd just done, regret flashing across his face. Blood dotted his lip, but he brushed it off, lunging to wrap her in his arms. "I'm sorry, Stella, baby, I'm so sorry. I screwed up; it was a stupid impulse..." Drained of energy, Stella sagged into the passenger seat, letting him hold her while a barren wave of emptiness and revulsion washed over her. The hug she'd once melted into now repulsed her to her core. "Get off me." Her voice came out rough and scratchy. "Bradly, don't push me to hating you."
Chapter 1 Don't Want Him Anymore "I'm sorry, ma'am." On the other end of the line, the insurance customer service rep said coolly, "After checking our records, the car owner, Mr. Woodard, is indeed married, but the spouse listed here isn't you." Stella Daniels had gotten into a car accident on her way to the Woodard Group headquarters. She couldn't get through to Bradly Woodard on his phone, so she had no choice but to call the insurance company. The car was registered in Bradly's name, but as his wife, she should be able to process the claim too. "When Mr. Woodard picked up the car, he came with his wife and provided the original marriage license. Her last name is Erickson, and her full name is Shanna Erickson," the rep said. It hit Stella like a slap in the face. Dizziness washed over her in waves, leaving her whole body shaking uncontrollably. She and Bradly had been childhood sweethearts. Their families were old friends, and everyone in Ostralver's high society knew how clingy he was with her. Bradly couldn't stand being apart from her even for a single day. Three years ago, when Stella headed abroad for her studies, Bradly had the plane stopped just for her. During her three years in Ensland, he expanded his business overseas to make it easier to look after her. Sixteen thousand miles apart, he'd still fly across the ocean every week to see her. The year she came down with a severe lung illness and nearly didn't pull through, she spent a week in intensive care. Bradly ignored the infection risks and stayed right by her side, sliding a ring onto her finger. He said, "If anything happens to you, I'll go with you. We'll be husband and wife in the next life too." For Bradly's sake, she turned down her mentor's offer to stay on in the lab and headed back home. Brimming with excitement, she went to find him, planning to surprise him. But when she pushed open the door to the CEO's office, she saw a slender, pretty woman straddling his lap. The woman's innocent face tilted upward, her voice whiny and aggrieved. "Mr. Woodard, what happens to me now that Stella is back?" Bradly sat in his executive chair, his tall frame looming over her. A flash of ruthlessness crossed his stern features. "You? You're just her stand-in. Don't forget your place." He lifted his hand, pinching her delicate chin with a sneer. "Barely a three-out-of-ten resemblance, and you think you can compare to her?" Stella was still clutching the gift she'd prepared for him. With a loud "bang," it dropped to the floor, finally breaking the scene in the office. Bradly's face drained of color as he shoved the woman off and jumped to his feet. That woman was Shanna. After Stella caught them in the act, Bradly fired Shanna on the spot and pulled out all the stops to win her back. Bradly, the arrogant prince of Ostralver's elite circles, humbled himself to the dust before her, begging her to give him another chance. Any project she set her sights on, he'd drop without a second thought. He stood in the pouring rain outside her building for over a week, just for a glimpse of her. He said, "Stella, I'm not asking you to forgive me. At least let me explain. "I only ever saw Shanna as your replacement. You've been gone abroad for so long; I missed you terribly. I swear, I just kept her around. Nothing more ever happened between us. "That time you walked in, I'd had too much to drink, and she deliberately tempted me. I lost control for a moment... "I've already let her go, and she won't show up in our lives again. Stella, please, come back to me." Back then, Stella couldn't stand even the slightest betrayal. She insisted on breaking off the engagement. Until that one incident. She was kidnapped by a business rival. The kidnappers reneged on the deal, tied her up in an abandoned factory, and set the place ablaze. Bradly charged into the flames without a second thought to rescue her, shielding her from a collapsing steel beam. He ended up gravely injured, confined to bed for nearly six months. By risking his life, Bradly finally melted her resolve. Once he was out of the hospital, she accepted his proposal, and they threw a lavish wedding. In the two years since they tied the knot, he'd treated her just as devotedly as ever, with zero scandals. He even imposed a strict curfew on himself, heading home right on time every day. Even on out-of-town business trips, he'd video call her constantly. His partners would tease him about being henpecked. He never denied it. Instead, he'd grin proudly and say, "A real man takes care of his family." Memories rushed through Stella's mind like a whirlwind, every past moment flashing by in a blur. Her legs buckled, and she dropped to her knees, burying her face in her hands. She couldn't figure out which Bradly was the real one anymore. A bitter, mocking gleam sparked in her eyes. She thought, 'How absurd.' She'd been his wife for two years, and only now was she learning that even their marriage license had been a sham. Stella scrubbed her face hard, her bangs already soaked with cold sweat. She ignored the other driver's furious yelling and calmly dialed the police. They showed up fast. After finishing her statement, Stella left the station under a sky that had gone completely dark. Her phone lit up with several missed calls from Bradly. When she hadn't answered, he'd sent texts instead. Bradly: [Babe, I was tied up in a key meeting this afternoon. Signal jammers were on, so I missed your call. You okay?] Bradly: [I've got a client dinner tonight, so I'll be late getting home. I double-checked: no women involved, so no need to worry.] Bradly: [Head to bed early. Don't wait up. Love you.] Stella stared at the screen, a sharp wave of irony twisting in her gut. Bradly didn't stagger in until the wee hours. He reeked of alcohol, which almost, but not quite, masked the subtle whiff of perfume on him. "Honey..." He could barely keep his balance, stumbling over to wrap his arms around her through the blanket. "I missed you so damn much..." Stella didn't say a word. Only once he was dead to the world did she sit up quietly and unlock his phone with his fingerprint. The thing was squeaky clean, no suspicious traces at all. His contacts were mostly buddies and business folks, with hers pinned at the top as "Darling Wife." Flawlessly tidy, just like their sham of a marriage. Stella hooked the phone up to her computer, and it didn't take long to uncover his second WhatsApp account. She signed in, and right away, messages popped up from a profile with a cute pink kitten avatar, labeled "Baby." Shanna: [Bradly, thanks for tonight. Without you, I wouldn't have known what to do.] Shanna: [I've always thought meeting you was the luckiest thing that's ever happened to me. I won't intrude on your life. As long as you swing by to see me once in a while, that's enough to make me happy.] Stella scrolled back through the history. She'd suspected as much, but seeing it all laid out still hit her like a punch to the chest, leaving her breathless. They chatted nearly every day. Shanna never missed a good morning message, and Bradly's replies had shifted over time, from total silence at first, to sporadic responses, and now to answering every single one. A chill spread through her. Stella clutched the phone tighter, knowing she should quit while she was ahead but unable to stop herself from digging deeper. Shanna: [Bradly, sorry, I had a few drinks and lost it for a bit. Doc says I'm okay now, so don't stress.] Shanna: [Mrs. Woodard's birthday bash is important. Go enjoy it with her. I'll be fine.] Stella squeezed her eyes shut as the memory came rushing back. Her birthday. Bradly had spent over a month planning it down to the last detail, but that day, he was totally distracted. Hell, he almost cut his own hand while slicing the cake. When she'd asked what was up, he'd brushed it off as work drama, told her not to worry, then pulled her into a soft embrace and encouraged her to blow out the candles and make a wish. It all made sense now, as she stared at this chat log. That same day, Shanna had tried to kill herself by slashing her wrists and ended up in the ER. A sour bitterness flooded her chest like a rising tide. In those brief seconds when she'd closed her eyes to wish, she wondered, 'Was he agonizing over Shanna in the hospital, or picturing endless years together with her?' Stella knew she didn't need an answer to that anymore. She gently placed the phone back and looked down at Bradly, fast asleep beside her. She'd known him since she was four, and for the twenty years that followed, she'd truly believed his love was hers alone, irreplaceable. But now she saw it for what it was: just cheap free samples at a store, handed out to anyone who walked by. If that was all it amounted to, she was done with it. Chapter 2 Bid Against Her The next day, Stella woke to find Bradly busy in the kitchen, his broad shoulders narrowing to a slim waist, his tall, lean build moving with purpose. The sight hit her hard, a dull ache tightening in her chest. Bradly had learned to cook entirely for her sake. She still remembered that turbulent period when the Woodard Group was in crisis. His rivals had targeted her, paying off a servant to poison her food. She'd been unconscious for three full days. When she finally woke, Bradly was there, his eyes red-rimmed and veined with exhaustion, gripping her hand like a lifeline. The instant she stirred, the imposing Bradly crumbled forward, enveloping her in a hug as scalding tears fell onto her skin. From then on, Bradly threw himself into cooking lessons, taking charge of all her meals. In less than a month, he'd gone from a spoiled elite who couldn't distinguish spices to turning out dishes worthy of a Michelin chef. Just then, his phone rang. Stella glanced at it but made no move to answer. Bradly darted out of the kitchen, apron still on, grabbing the phone with a barely concealed flash of anxiety. Stella pretended not to notice and went to wash up. When she came back, the table was set with breakfast, and he was slipping into his suit jacket from the coat rack. Seeing her, he said gently, "There's an emergency at work. I have to run. Sorry I can't join you for breakfast." Stella murmured, "Sure, work comes first." He was clearly in a hurry, because he didn't pick up on the new edge of cool distance in her tone and rushed out. She stared blankly after him until he was gone, then dumped the entire spread into the trash. Then she picked up her phone and dialed a number. "That offer you made before? I'm on board." The person on the other end erupted in delight, chattering away before shifting to broken Andosa Language. "Stella, why the sudden change of heart? I've bugged you about this so many times, and you always said you were married now and focusing on family." A mocking glint flickered in Stella's eyes. She thought, 'Married? This so-called marriage has been dead on arrival.' The caller was her former mentor from her overseas studies. He'd reached out lately, hoping she'd join his new team and spearhead a major project. At the time, she'd kept saying no out of loyalty to Bradly. Now, she only wished she'd seen through the absurd joke of their marriage earlier. After the call, she contacted immigration to schedule a passport renewal. It would take about a week. But before heading out, she had one loose end to tie up. That evening, Stella showed up at a private auction at the Cloud Hotel. She was after one of her mother's keepsakes. Her mom had died when she was eight, and soon after, the Daniels family had liquidated her wedding gift. Stella had been hunting down the items ever since. Over the years, she'd only reclaimed a few. Tonight's auction featured a bracelet from that collection, one her mother had picked up on a trip to Ijance. It was utterly unique, irreplaceable. Whatever it took, she was getting it back. Stella settled into her seat just as the auction was about to start. She was flipping through the catalog when Bradly's voice floated over. "Didn't I already pick out that royal blue sapphire set for you? Not good enough?" His voice carried that familiar tenderness. Shanna linked her arm with his, pouting playfully. "Your taste sucks! I want to pick my own birthday gift." Stella watched them quietly until Bradly threaded through the guests and their gazes collided by chance. The color drained from his face. On pure reflex, he jerked his arm away from Shanna. "Stella." He strode over quickly. "I tried calling you a few times, but you didn't answer. Were you planning to surprise me?" Even though he tried to play it cool, she could still catch that subtle hint of panic in his expression. Stella didn't bother calling him on it, replying evenly, "My phone was on silent. I didn't hear it." Bradly visibly relaxed, casually taking her hand in his with a look of concern. "Your hands are like ice. Didn't I warn you about the cold snap today? You're always putting style over staying warm. If you catch a chill, you know it'll just kill me." As he talked, he signaled a server for a blanket and draped it snugly around her shoulders. Stella kept a straight face, brushing him off as she looked past him to Shanna, who lingered behind with a scowl. Shanna nibbled her lip, then defiantly dropped into the seat next to Bradly, her gaze simmering with irritation. Bradly leaned closer, dropping his voice to explain, "We just wrapped up a major project at the company, and Shanna pulled her weight big time. Her birthday's around the corner, so I thought I'd treat her to something as a project bonus." He eyed her anxiously. "Stella, you're not mad, right?" Shanna piped up in a soft, vulnerable tone. "Mrs. Woodard, if this upsets you, I'll just go. I don't want to get in the way of you and Mr. Woodard." Stella's mouth quirked into a smile that never touched her eyes. "We're married. A little thing like this? Of course it doesn't bother me." The auction got underway shortly after. Bradly treated Shanna like she was invisible, focusing entirely on Stella. He paged through the catalog, throwing in bids left and right. "Babe, this would look amazing on you." He grinned, tenderly brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his tone warm and intimate. "You'd be gorgeous in it." Stella averted her eyes, but out of the corner of her vision, she saw Shanna discreetly clutching the edge of Bradly's jacket in the dim light. Their gazes locked for a split second in a shared, lingering look. She masked the derision in her own eyes, struck by how absurd it all was. Bradly seemed totally at ease juggling both women, convinced he was keeping things balanced, one with the official status, the other with his undivided public attention. She thought, 'What could be fairer than that?' But Stella had never been interested in that kind of equilibrium. Her world extended far beyond romance. Bradly? He was just a small detour on her path, a misstep she'd own up to. And now, it was time to set things right. "Next up: a string of bracelet. Fine-grained texture, deep aroma that lingers. Starting bid at 170,000 dollars, with increments of at least 20,000 dollars!" The auctioneer's pumped-up voice echoed through the room. Finally, Stella's main target for the evening. Bids flew in fast, the screen flickering with updates as the auctioneer called out, "Number 17 lady at 200,000 dollars! Number 9 gentleman ups it to 260,000 dollars! Going higher?" Once the initial frenzy tapered off, Stella lifted her paddle. "500,000 dollars." She'd doubled the current bid in one go. It was a hefty amount. Sure, the bracelet was top-notch, but it wasn't the auction's highlight. The room went quiet after her call; no one countered. "Fantastic! Number 11 lady at 500,000 dollars! "500,000 dollars once! 500,000 dollars twice!" The auctioneer hoisted his gavel, poised to bring it down. "No more bids? Then 500,000 dollars—" "520,000 dollars," A gentle, hesitant voice interrupted. Shanna shrank against Bradly's side, paddle in hand, murmuring timidly to him, "Is this where I put in the amount?" Chapter 3 You're Dirty Stella frowned and raised her bid. "540,000 dollars." But Shanna was right behind her, countering with, "560,000 dollars." How annoyingly precise, each time, she stuck to the bare minimum, slapping on just 20,000 dollars more than Stella's offer. Shanna turned toward her, her voice dripping with plea. "Stella, you've got plenty of jewelry already. Please, let me have this one. I adore it. "I'm not like you, born with money, everything handed to you on a silver platter. You snap your fingers and get whatever you want. If it goes any higher, I really won't be able to keep up." Stella didn't bother looking at her, just quirking her lips in a thin smile. "Isn't Mr. Woodard covering the cost for you? What are you stressing about?" Shanna's face went a shade paler, but she answered in that soft, demure tone, "Even so, Mr. Woodard earns his money the hard way. If I can save him a bit, I ought to." She was the epitome of considerate and caring. After several more back-and-forth bids, the bracelet's price had soared to 700,000 dollars. Stella let out a chilly scoff and was opening her mouth to up the ante when Bradly beat her to it. He said, "Babe, why don't we just let Shanna take this bracelet?" Stella's fingers curled into a tight fist, her nails biting into her palm. She lifted her gaze, any lingering warmth in her eyes turning to ice. "What did you just say?" Bradly let out a resigned sigh, giving her hand a comforting pat as he murmured gently, "Babe, I already told Shanna she'd get a gift tonight, and she's got her heart set on this one. No need to compete with her. "Plus, I've already snagged you a handful of other pieces. Isn't that plenty?" He said it all lightly, teasingly, as if it were nothing more than a harmless quip. Stella shut her eyes, a nameless sourness creeping along her nerves, coiling around her heart until it felt like she couldn't draw a breath. Given Shanna's modest background, 700,000 dollars was way out of her league. She wouldn't even make the guest list here on her own. The only reason she was in that seat, trading bids blow for blow, was Bradly's backing. His pampering had delivered her straight into Stella's path. Stella whispered, "What if I refuse to back down?" She hoisted her paddle once more, her voice echoing through the room. "1 million dollars." A hush blanketed the hall. The auctioneer clearly picked up on the drama, his delivery faltering. "Number eleven at 1 million dollars. Do I hear higher?" Shanna's eyes welled up, on the verge of tears, as she cast a helpless look at Bradly before tacking on another fifty thousand. "1 million 20 thousand dollars." Stella's features hardened to frost, and she was poised to fire back when the manager bustled over, bending close to murmur, "Mrs. Woodard, apologies. We ran a credit verification on your account, and it's frozen. Got another one we can use?" The words slammed into her like a bolt from the blue, ringing in her ears. She snapped her head toward Bradly, but he'd already looked away. An icy numbness spread through her arms and legs. She though,t 'Of course, it has to be him.' Her primary account was linked with his; besides her, only he could authorize a freeze on her cards. Triumph flickered in Shanna's eyes as she added with a pointed edge, "Well, in that case, Mrs. Woodard, maybe it's time to step aside. You've got so much already. Can't you let me have this one little thing?" Up on stage, the auction rolled on, the display frozen on Shanna's latest bid: 1 million 20 thousand dollars. Shanna could hardly hide her glee, chirping sweetly, "Go on, call it!" But the words had barely left her lips when someone announced he would bid for the lot at any costs right in the second-floor VIP suite. After a momentary silence, the room burst into chaos. "He's declared absolute intent!" Even the auctioneer's expression changed. He'd been in the game for over a decade, but this was his first encounter with such a scenario. He hurriedly called out, "Lot number six goes to the gentleman in box 217, regardless of how high the price goes." Anyone up in those second-floor VIP suites was either swimming in money or held serious sway in Ostralver's upper crust. Stella glanced upward toward the source of the voice, catching only a vague outline behind the draped curtains. Even when she couldn't see his face, the man's crossed-legged posture radiated an unspoken dominance that pressed down on the room. The auctioneer slammed his gavel down with finality, proclaiming, "Congratulations to our esteemed guest in box 217 on winning lot number six! You're now upgraded to black gold status!" Across all of Ostralver's elite scene, fewer than a handful had ever hit black gold level at these events. Stella wondered, 'Just who is this mystery man?' Stella loosened her clenched fist slightly, torn between relief that her mother's heirloom hadn't landed in Shanna's clutches and anxiety over reclaiming it from this unknown figure. No matter what, she'd stop at nothing, pay any price, to bring her mother's possession home. She rose to her feet, intent on marching over to box 217 for a chat, when the attendant who'd just ducked inside reappeared, tray in hand with the bracelet. "What's this? The bidder in 217 having second thoughts?" "Auctions don't do take-backs." "Probably short on funds. I called it. No one's done this here before." As the murmurs swirled, the attendant headed straight for Stella, dipping into a courteous bow with a warm smile. She said, "Mrs. Woodard, the gentleman in box 217 requests that I deliver the bracelet to you as a gift. He wishes for you to follow your true path and for all to unfold as it should." The place erupted in gossip once more, with guests shooting glances her way, some envious, others skeptical, many flat-out stunned. "Isn't that Mrs. Woodard? What's her deal with the upstairs guy?" "Likely just buttering up Mr. Woodard." "Nah, I don't buy it. Out of all the goodies tonight, why zero in on those beads for Mrs. Woodard? Sounds like she's got a real connection there." The buzz filtered through, and Bradly's face turned stone-cold. In a tight, edged voice, he demanded, "Stella, what's the story with you and whoever's in box 217?" Stella held his piercing stare and said flatly, "I have no idea who he is." "!" Bradly jumped up, clamping down on her wrist like a vice. Her soft, fair skin reddened almost instantly under the pressure. Stella winced sharply, jerking her arm back on reflex. "Bradly, have you lost your mind? Haven't you stirred up enough drama for one day?" But he barreled on, blind to her fury, his reddened eyes locked on her as if he could swallow her up. "What's really between you two? "Stella, through all our married years, I've bent over backward for you. Anything you desired, I served it up without question. Why would you betray me like this?" In his mind, it was already a done deal: she was entangled in something shady with the man above. If the guy was angling for a favor from him, Bradly would've recognized him right away. People in Ostralver didn't beat around the bush when they needed something from him. They came direct. The jab landed raw and direct. Bradly blinked, frozen for a beat as a flicker of alarm shot through his eyes. Chapter 4 Don't Know You'd Come Bradly said, "I'm sorry, Stella. I didn't mean it like that. I had no right getting jealous over you and some stranger. It's all on me." Bradly's eyes reddened. "But honestly, there's nothing going on between Shanna and me. I just brought her along as a thank-you. Can you let this slide?" Seeing his cue, Shanna ducked her head meekly, her voice catching. "That's right, Mrs. Woodard. I've been bending over backward to keep my distance from Mr. Woodard so you wouldn't get the wrong impression. "I'm not asking for the world, just a decent birthday gift. I didn't grow up with your advantages; you've had everything handed to you and even snagged a catch like Mr. Woodard. Can't I at least pick out something for myself?" "Just a gift, huh?" Stella closed in on her, one step at a time. "Ms. Erickson, I've never given a damn about this 'gift' you're going on about. What gets under my skin is you, a Woodard Group employee, crossing lines you have no business crossing." As they drew closer, Bradly instinctively stepped in front of Shanna, his voice soft and coaxing. "Stella, if it's bugging you this much, I'll transfer her to a branch office once the auction's over. "But for now, cut me some slack. Let Shanna have the bracelet. When we get home, name your price on anything, and it's yours." Shanna bobbed her head in agreement, tears glistening on her lashes as she pleaded, "Stella, I really adore this bracelet. You've got it all already. Why go after the one thing I want? "Or is this just because you hate my guts and can't resist taking shots at me?" "What makes you think I'd ever like you?" Stella let out a cold snort. "This belonged to me from the start. Why the hell would I give it up?" She took the bracelet from the attendant with casual ease, her smile sharp but empty. "Ms. Erickson, know your place." Her refusal to budge finally wore through Bradly's patience, erasing every bit of softness from his face. "Stella, do you have to humiliate me like this in front of everyone? Where does that leave my dignity? "It's just a crappy old bracelet. Am I really worth less to you than some trinket?" He said it with such conviction, as if he'd wiped from his memory the solemn vow he'd made when proposing: that he'd hunt down every single one of her mother's sold-off keepsakes, no matter what. Stella's hand flew up, delivering a resounding slap across his cheek. The sharp crack rang out, pulling shocked stares from every corner of the room. Bradly's head snapped sideways, his face livid as he fixed her with a glare, his words hissing through clenched teeth. "Stella, drop the drama already. Have I pampered you too much these days, turning you into this unreasonable nightmare?" Stella reined in her temper, keeping her tone even. "Bradly, you better not live to regret today." Without another word, she turned and walked out, not sparing a backward glance. As her figure receded, Shanna gently touched the angry red mark on Bradly's cheek, her voice full of worry. "Mr. Woodard, are you okay? "Stella's got no boundaries. How could she hit you with all these people watching?" Bradly swatted her hand aside, his nails digging into his palm as he stared after her retreating path. "I've spoiled her rotten, letting her forget that everything she has comes from me." Shanna peeked at his changing expression, testing the waters. "Mr. Woodard, about the bracelet..." Bradly rubbed his throbbing cheek, pulled a bank card from his pocket, and handed it over. "1.7 million dollars on there. Buy whatever catches your eye." Box 217, Stella rapped on the door, eager to thank the mystery bidder face-to-face. Silence. She caught a server walking by. "Excuse me, any idea where the gentleman from this box headed?" "He slipped out right after nabbing the last item," the server said. Disappointment flashed in her eyes, but Stella pressed on, "Do you know who he was?" The server gave her a regretful smile. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard, we're not allowed to spill on our VIPs. Don't make this harder for us." Catching herself, Stella moved out of the way. "Thanks all the same." By the time she made it home from the auction, an hour had ticked by. Stella went straight up to the study, fired up the computer, and dove into the assets registered under her and Bradly's names. After tallying up the numbers, she snatched her phone, found lawyer Rubin Cobb's contact, and hit dial. She said, "I've sorted out the asset division documents for me and Bradly and sent them over. I need you to handle the property split by tomorrow." Rubin quickly received the files and nodded respectfully. "Of course, Mrs. Woodard. I'll get right on it." Stella stared intently at her computer screen, her grip tightening on the mouse. "If Bradly's committed bigamy, how should our assets be divided?" "Generally, any property the bigamous party gained through the bigamy can be claimed back by the other spouse," Rubin replied matter-of-factly. Half of Bradly's current wealth had come from Stella's investments to support his career early on. Her expression darkened, and she promptly forwarded the marriage license between him and Shanna. "Rubin, please use every legal avenue to recover my half of the assets." After hanging up, Stella slumped back in her chair, utterly drained physically and emotionally. She closed her eyes slowly, but sleep was nowhere in sight. Bradly would never agree to a divorce. Until she had everything locked down, she couldn't let on that anything was amiss. Just then, the study door was kicked open from the outside. Bradly flung his jacket onto the desk and yanked Stella up from her seat in front of the computer. "Do you realize that because of your little outburst, I've become a laughingstock in our circles? "What exactly do you want? Are you still obsessing over what happened back then?" Stella opened her eyes slowly, her gaze settling calmly on Bradly, but she remained silent. A fire raged in Bradly's chest, intensifying by the second, and he couldn't hold back his fury any longer. "Since we got married, have I ever done anything to wrong you? I come home right on time every night after work, I always fill you in on any business dinners, and if there's even a hint of a woman involved, I skip them entirely! I've bent over backward, and it's still not good enough for you?" He remembered every detail crystal clear. In his mind, these were the sacrifices he'd made to marry her. Stella suddenly found the whole thing absurd. She couldn't bear to look at him anymore, so she stood up and walked straight out of the study without a backward glance. Behind her, Bradly's voice echoed heavily. "Stella, no matter what you think, my conscience is clear." It felt like Stella's heart had been shattered into icy fragments, a sharp, bitter pain surging through her. Her mind buzzed, and for a moment, all she could hear was that phrase repeating over and over. She thought, 'My conscience is clear? So, in his eyes, everything he's done is perfectly justifiable.' The next morning, when Stella woke up, Bradly was already gone. On the table sat the breakfast he'd prepared, tailored exactly to her tastes. Stella pressed her lips together, her feelings a complicated tangle. They'd ended things on a sour note last night, yet Bradly had still made her breakfast this morning. But this was the same man who'd lied to her for years. No matter what, it was time to end things with Bradly. She didn't touch the food and headed straight to the office. These past few years, she'd stayed out of Bradly's business dealings. A lot of her old financial records were outdated now, and she needed the latest reports. The secretary looked startled when she saw her, then managed to say, "Mrs. Woodard, are you here to see Mr. Woodard?" "No." Stella replied evenly. "Send the finance manager in to see me." Her shares were second only to Bradly's, giving her full access to every aspect of the company. The secretary hesitated briefly before nodding. Stella noticed her immediately turning to make a phone call, probably alerting Bradly. Stella didn't intervene; let her. She settled into the finance office, sipping her coffee absentmindedly while flipping through magazines on the shelf. Most were glossy entertainment rags, mixed in with novels and comics. Stella frowned, only now picking up on the details: the desk was covered in a pink plaid mat, cluttered with adorable plush toys. The standout pair was a set of couple dolls, their outfits emblazoned with the letters W and E. It hit Stella suddenly what that meant, and just then, the door behind her swung open. Shanna rushed in. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard." She was clutching a cup of coffee as she apologized. "I had no idea you'd drop by like this..." Chapter 5 All For Milford Stella arched an eyebrow as she looked her over. "So you're the finance manager?" Shanna nodded with a quick smile. "That's me. If you need anything at all, just say the word. Bradly, well, Mr. Woodard is tied up in a meeting right now. But don't worry, I'll make sure to relay whatever message you have." Stella let out a soft laugh. "No need for that." She regarded Shanna with clear curiosity. "I'm not looking for Bradly. I'm here to see you." Shanna's smile faltered for a moment before she recovered, her tone turning gentle. "Mrs. Woodard, I get that you're still bothered by what went down at the auction last night, but there's no reason to be so worked up about my connection to Mr. Woodard. After all..." She raised her hand, the elegant diamond ring on her finger glinting under the light, perfectly complementing her bashful grin. "I'm already married, and things are great between me and my husband." Stella's eyes locked on the ring, her breath hitching just for an instant. It was ridiculous. In this whole messed-up situation, she was the one playing the role of the mistress. The ring was an exact match for the one Bradly had given her during his proposal. But within seconds, Stella averted her gaze. "It's a lovely ring, but you're mistaken." She spoke unhurriedly, "I'm just here to grab the latest financial report from you. That's all." Stella caught the sour shift in Shanna's expression and smiled to herself. "Seems like you're the one on edge here, Ms. Erickson." Shanna's face transformed completely, that smug spark in her eyes snuffed out. She bit her lip, unable to find words for a long beat. Stella watched her with unruffled poise. "Do I need to repeat my request, Ms. Erickson?" The words had barely left her mouth when Bradly burst in, his expression clouding over at the sight. "Stella, wasn't the scene from last night enough?" His voice was laced with ice. "How long are you planning to drag this out? I've told you already. There's nothing going on between me and Shanna. If you don't believe me..." Stella interrupted him mid-sentence, "Oh, I believe you. Absolutely." A faint smirk tugged at her lips, though her eyes remained frosty as they settled on Shanna. "After all, Ms. Erickson's already married. She just mentioned it herself." The statement landed like a bomb. Shanna's face drained of color, and Bradly's followed suit. He shot her a withering glare. Tears sprang to Shanna's eyes in an instant. Stella had no interest in watching the drama unfold any further. She said evenly, "I'm here for this year's financials. I hold forty percent of the company. Surely I can access that, right?" Bradly seemed to snap back to reality, nodding hastily. "Of course you can." He barked orders at the secretary to fetch it immediately, all the while stealing wary glances at her face. Once he confirmed she wasn't giving anything away, he exhaled almost imperceptibly in relief. He said, "Stella, what's with the sudden interest? You've never bothered with company matters before." Stella answered coolly, "After the account freeze last night, I decided it's smarter to set up a separate one." Bradly's expression froze again. "Stella..." The secretary returned promptly with the report. Stella brushed Bradly aside, skimmed through it quickly, and was heading for the door when he caught her by the wrist. He said, "Stella, about the family dinner tonight, are you coming home with me?" His tone was pleading, like he needed her answer to reassure himself that she hadn't caught on to anything fishy. Stella didn't look back, just replying calmly, "Sure." Bradly's face lit up. "Great, I'll swing by after work to pick you up." Stella dropped her gaze, masking the cool detachment in her eyes. She'd only agreed to head back to the family estate for one specific reason. The marriage license from when she and Bradly had tied the knot was a phony, but he'd made a whole production out of stashing it away at the house, claiming it had to be kept secure. Nothing could serve as stronger proof. Once she got her hands on it, his bigamy would be ironclad. Stella didn't bother waiting for Bradly; she hailed a cab and got there ahead of time. She'd figured it was just a standard family gathering, but she was caught off guard by the full turnout. Bradly's parents, fresh from their overseas vacation last week, were back, and even the distant relatives from the Woodard family's side branches had shown up en masse. "Stella, dear." As she walked in, Nadine Woodard peered over her shoulder. "Bradly didn't come with you?" Stella answered evenly, "He'll be along shortly." Nadine clicked her tongue, her irritation obvious. "On an important occasion like this, letting someone from outside the family arrive solo, what's got into him?" Stella's brow furrowed just a touch. She and Bradly had been engaged since childhood, but after her mother's passing, the Daniels family's status had tanked while the Woodard family kept climbing. That was when Nadine started pushing to scrap the arrangement, and she'd mentioned it more than a few times. But Chuck Woodard was upright and principled, flat-out refusing to play the social-climbing game. With Bradly dead set on marrying her and no one else, Nadine had reluctantly given in, though she made her resentment clear. Even after the marriage, she never passed up an opportunity to give Stella the cold shoulder. She was about to add something else when the butler rushed in and murmured, "He's here." Nadine promptly dropped the subject with Stella and jumped to her feet, the extended family hustling out right behind her to welcome the arrivals. The level of pomp surprised Stella. The Woodard family was already at the top of Ostralver's social elite. For them to pull out all the stops like this... Standing at the edge of the group, Stella glanced up and saw a black Maybach rolling up to the front of the estate. Someone hurried forward to open the door respectfully, and a tall, imposing figure stepped out unhurriedly. The man wore a sleek black suit, his chiseled features sharp, eyes as midnight, radiating a fierce intensity. Every gesture exuded a natural poise and authority that made it tough to hold his stare. The crowd swarmed forward in a rush, but he stayed cool and detached the whole time, his stunningly handsome face as impassive as carved ice, showing zero emotion. Then, as if picking up on something, he looked up toward Stella. Their eyes locked unexpectedly, sending her heart pounding. It was Milford Woodard, Bradly's brother. He'd returned to the country. Though they were brothers in name, Milford wasn't all that tight with the family. He'd headed overseas young and had spent years growing the business abroad. His father Edward Woodard was a total lightweight, good only at spending cash, not earning it. His grandpa Chuck had the smarts and drive, but age was catching up, leaving him unable to manage it all. Real power over the Woodard family had shifted to Milford ages ago. Stella let out a quiet breath. She thought, 'That explains the big crowd today. They've all turned out for Milford.' Chapter 6 Need Help? Stella lingered in the corner of the living room, watching the relatives descend like a swarm of locusts, all scrambling to surround Milford. Bradly stood next to Nadine, flashing a polished smile as he greeted, "Hey, Milford." The uncles who'd been buttering up Bradly just a minute ago quickly switched gears, beaming with over-the-top enthusiasm as they stepped up to say hello. "Milford, what prompted the sudden return?" "Milford, I hear you're in the middle of acquiring a domestic company? You're just getting more impressive by the day." "Come on inside, take a seat. We've got some top-shelf coffee." Bradly caught the stark contrast in the uncles' warmth, his smile fading briefly before he pulled it together and led the way forward. Stella quietly eyed the tall, strikingly handsome Milford striding into the living room like the star of the show, instinctively edging back a step. Now fully pushed to the fringes of the crowd, she shifted aside to let the trailing group pass, doing everything she could to blend into the wallpaper. Milford approached steadily. Unlike Bradly's flashy, outgoing vibe, he had a more brooding, aloof kind of handsomeness, like a pine tree blanketed in snow, regal and intimidating. He acknowledged the flattery around him with simple nods, his eyes scanning the room casually, subtly taking stock of everyone there. Until his gaze swept over Stella again, and he came to an abrupt halt. He paused, causing Bradly to stop too. "Something wrong, Milford?" Milford didn't respond, his steady gaze fixed on Stella. It was only a look, but it jolted her to her core. She felt an odd sense of being claimed, uninvited. Yet she'd barely crossed paths with Milford before. Bradly and the others traced his stare, his eyebrow quirking up. "Stella, come say hi to Big Milford." Stella started to step forward, but Milford beat her to it, walking straight toward her. Bradly and the rest exchanged surprised glances. So far, everyone had been approaching Milford. He hadn't initiated with a soul. Milford's deep eyes gave nothing away. "Stella?" Her breath hitched, like a faint breeze had brushed her ear. She hadn't anticipated him coming over to chat. It had been years, and they'd only met once or twice, but he still remembered her. Stella nodded. "Milford, it's been ages—" Before she could finish, Milford held out his hand. The move was so casual, so natural. Out of pure reflex and politeness, Stella extended hers, their palms connecting. In that brief clasp, she felt him squeeze gently, his thumb settling on her fingers and grazing them with a warm intensity. Milford released after just a second. Suddenly, Bradly sidled up, drawing Stella into his side with an arm around her waist, lacing his fingers through her left hand. He said, "Milford, how long are you in town this time? Stella and I can take you out to dinner one of these days." Milford took in their cozy pose, his glance dropping to their intertwined hands. "About a month." The words had barely left his mouth when Chuck came down the stairs, leaning on the butler for support. Milford headed over to talk with him. Not long after, the kitchen called that the party was ready. Stella trailed Bradly to their seats on the left side of the main table. Everyone filed in and sat. As the eldest branch, the two Woodard brothers took priority. Chuck claimed the head of the main table, with Nadine and Milford next in line. Stella and Bradly fell further down the order, landing her right across from Milford on the diagonal. The family feast got underway, with everyone firing questions at Milford about what he'd been up to lately. Stella kept her head down, nibbling at her food while catching bits of the conversation. Zrester bigwig, major stakeholder in Wonder Group, founder of that financial exchange and the smart transportation AI... Milford's credentials were endless and mind-blowing. She thought back to that Zrester party invite list she'd snagged years ago. Milford was third from the top, while she languished at the bottom. In all these years, she'd had next to no interaction with him. Right after the wedding, this mysterious Milford had only shown up once. He dropped off a gift and vanished. In just a handful of years, Milford had climbed to the pinnacle of Zrester's power players. His talent was obvious. Before long, the family party wound down, and folks scattered to grab desserts. Still hung up on that marriage license, Stella excused herself to head upstairs for a coat change. Bradly was itching to chat with Milford, his gaze fixed that way as he muttered distractedly, "Yeah, go on up." Stella wasted no time hustling upstairs. With the crowd milling about downstairs, she slipped to the third floor of the villa and nudged open Bradly's bedroom door. There it was: the glaring marriage license perched right on top of the nightstand, framed, flanked by their wedding portrait. As she stepped closer, memories of Bradly's cozy moments with Shanna flooded her brain, her nails digging slowly into her palm. That license seared her eyes, like it was sneering at her gullibility. She never should've caved, never should've handed Bradly a second shot. It just went to show that people's hearts circled back for seconds. Disgust flickered in her eyes as she hauled the desk's computer chair over, the kind with wheels and a swivel, shaky at best. She climbed onto it, planting one foot on the bed for stability, teetering just enough to hold steady. Stella hiked up her pearl-white knee-length dress a bit and stretched upward slowly. Fingers extended to the max, but she was still a couple inches shy. She rose onto her tiptoes, straining, but no dice. Frowning from her perch, she scanned around and snagged a book from beside the cabinet. As she leaned down, footsteps suddenly echoed outside the door. Fast, but measured. A man's, for sure. Her pulse spiked. She clutched the table, scrambling to hop down, but, perfect timing, her other sleeve caught on the cabinet's edge. She tugged frantically to break free, but it was too late to descend. The door flew open out of nowhere. Stella went rigid, her knees giving way as she toppled backward off the chair. A quick yelp escaped her, but the expected crash never hit. A firm hand latched precisely onto her thigh, another banding around her waist, hauling her into a solid hold and planting her feet firmly on the floor. She slammed into a warm, toned chest, a crisp, grounding sandalwood aroma enveloping her, not Bradly's scent. Stella glanced up, nearly clipping the guy's chin. Milford let go right away, backing off a step to give her space. Her cheeks burned, the thigh he'd gripped feeling like it was on fire. Mortified and frozen, she stammered, "Th-thanks." Milford stayed composed, his eyes skimming her flushed face and the pinkened patch of skin on her thigh from his hold. His Adam's apple dipped subtly. "Didn't realize you were in here. My bad." Stella shook her head, even more flustered. She was the one imposing on him. Milford flicked a glance upward. "Need some help?" She looked too. Up top, the marriage license screamed for attention. Chapter 7 Don't Let Me Hate You Stella just came out with it. "I want to get the marriage license down." Milford hesitated for a beat, without probing why she needed it, and slid the chair out of the way. Tall and long-limbed, he barely had to tip up on his toes to snag it effortlessly. Milford skimmed the lettering on the license, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes before the faintest quirk tugged at his lips, almost undetectable. He passed it over to Stella. "Ah, I see." She missed the words, taking it with a soft murmur: "Thanks, Milford." Her palms were slick with sweat now, but holding the certificate still sent an icy shiver through her. Those bold letters were a brutal reminder. This whole marriage had been one big joke. From beginning to end, Bradly's grand performance of undying love had always had a third wheel in the shadows. Milford dropped his gaze. Towering over her, all he could make out was the neat swirl at the top of her head, round and oddly appealing. Those slim, pale hands gripped the certificate like a vise, completely bloodless. Milford asked offhandedly, "So, what's the marriage license for?" "Oh, I just want to bring it home and store it there," Stella shot back, pulling an excuse out of thin air. Milford's stare felt like it enveloped her, the heat of it almost scorching, though he kept his hands to himself. Then he casually adjusted his cufflinks and turned to go. Stella let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, sagging against the cool cabinet. Her thigh still tingled with warmth from his grip; she quickly smoothed her skirt down, tucked the license into her bag, and only left the room once everything looked undisturbed. Bradly was still out in the back garden, deep in conversation. Stella kept her face neutral, strolling over to stand at his side. A few relatives were chatting with him. "Hey, word is Milford actually got back a couple days ago, but only tipped us off today." Bradly looked taken aback. "I thought he was flying in today?" "Nope, sounds like he hit up some auction. I only heard bits and pieces, supposedly the other night at the Empire Auction House." "He must not have gone. I was there that evening too, and I didn't see him anywhere," Bradly said, frowning in confusion. Stella's eyelashes flickered subtly, but she played it cool. Out of nowhere, her mind jumped back to that enigmatic bidder in suite 217. She wondered, 'Could Milford be the mystery guest who got the bracelet for me?' She shoved the thought down as soon as it surfaced. They'd only crossed paths once, total strangers really, connected by the flimsiest in-law tie. No matter how you sliced it, Milford wouldn't stick his neck out for her. Just like Bradly said, he hadn't caught wind of anything, so it couldn't be Milford. Stella let it go. After some more mingling, the group started to break up. Bradly steered her over to bid farewell to Milford. "Mom, Milford, we're taking off. Let's set up a family dinner soon when things settle." Milford slouched back in his chair with effortless nonchalance and gave a nod. "I'm knee-deep in an acquisition, no hurry on the get-together. But you..." He lifted his head, his expression sharpening. "Keep your life on the straight and narrow. Don't veer off track." The edge of warning in his voice was crystal clear. Bradly had grown up overshadowed by Milford; he went rigid but brushed it off casually. "Come on, everything's good. My company's running smooth as ever. If you're skeptical, drop by anytime and pore over the financials—knock yourself out." "It's not just about the company," Milford said softly, eyes down as he savored a sip of coffee. Stella couldn't help stealing a glance at him, and in that instant, a ridiculous idea struck her. From what Bradly had mentioned, Milford was abroad most of the time but still had the inside scoop on everything back home. She wondered, 'Does he know about the shady stuff Bradly is up to on the sly?' "Milford, I hear you. I'll make sure to nurture my marriage with Stella, our whole life together." Bradly grinned, threading his fingers through Stella's. Milford's gaze lingered on their joined hands for a second before drifting away, sealed with a subtle nod. Stella had no desire for any more close contact with Bradly, so she subtly shook his hand free without thinking. A split second later, his disbelieving stare locked onto her face, and he tried to grab her again. She'd known her move would humiliate him in the moment, so she didn't bother saying goodbye to Milford. She just turned and walked out ahead. Once they slid into the car, Bradly shed his polite, deferential mask from earlier, reverting to his entitled rich-kid swagger. He tugged his tie loose, a flicker of annoyance pinching his brows. "Always playing the big-brother card to chew me out, same crap since we were little. "So what if he's crushing it overseas? I'm holding my own just fine back home. Who in Ostralver would even think about messing with me?" Bradly fished out a menthol cigarette on autopilot, ready to light up, but he caught himself after glancing at Stella and shoved it back. He said, "All these years, folks have been whispering, or saying it straight to my face, that my company's thriving because of his pull. Like he's behind every damn thing. "And you? You flat-out refused to let me hold your hand back there. Trying to make me look like an idiot in front of him?" His expression iced over, the edge in his voice impossible to miss. Stella's frown deepened as she took it in. Even without knowing Milford all that well, she understood that Bradly's cocky antics in Ostralver, brushing people off like they were nothing, had always been propped up by Milford's clout. She'd assumed the brothers were tight, but clearly Bradly's respect was just for show; underneath, his grudge against Milford simmered deep. She could overlook a lot, but with things the way they were now, there was zero point in him putting on that phony hand-holding act. Stella gripped her bag, the one with the marriage license inside, and couldn't bite her tongue. "We haven't held hands in forever. It feels off to me." The car went dead quiet. She was right. Their physical closeness had dwindled so much that even she couldn't pinpoint the last time. Bradly's brow creased, and he snapped the cigarette filter clean off between his fingers. "What was that?" Stella met his eyes steadily. "From here on out, let's skip the pointless touchy-feely stuff. It just doesn't sit right." She hadn't even finished when the brakes screeched harshly. The car lurched to a halt on the empty shoulder of the road. Stella almost smacked into the window from the force, her pulse hammering as she barked, "Are you out of your mind?" Bradly loomed over her, fingers digging into her chin, irritation boiling in his glare. "Stella, do you have any idea what you're saying?" The pinch stung like crazy, and the absurdity of it all hit her as she wrestled to shove him off. "Is it not true? When's the last time we even held hands. Can you remember?" Bradly's gaze turned stormy, like she'd struck a raw spot. "I bet you're hung up on Milford, just like that girl from the second branch. That's why you pulled away in front of him. You're trying to cut ties with me?" "Bradly! What the hell are you babbling about?" Anger surged through her as she pushed harder. "Don't you dare pin your gross history on me!" The way the family had orbited Milford like he was the sun had obviously gotten under his skin. The more she resisted, the darker his look grew. Abruptly, he leaned in and smashed his mouth against hers. Stella's eyes flew wide, her head whipping aside to evade as she hammered at his shoulders with everything she had. He'd locked lips with Shanna god knows how often. The thought turned her stomach, so she clamped down and bit him hard. Bradly yelped in pain, jerking back as the fog cleared and he clocked what he'd just done, regret flashing across his face. Blood dotted his lip, but he brushed it off, lunging to wrap her in his arms. "I'm sorry, Stella, baby, I'm so sorry. I screwed up; it was a stupid impulse..." Drained of energy, Stella sagged into the passenger seat, letting him hold her while a barren wave of emptiness and revulsion washed over her. The hug she'd once melted into now repulsed her to her core. "Get off me." Her voice came out rough and scratchy. "Bradly, don't push me to hating you."
Chapter 1 Don't Want Him Anymore "I'm sorry, ma'am." On the other end of the line, the insurance customer service rep said coolly, "After checking our records, the car owner, Mr. Woodard, is indeed married, but the spouse listed here isn't you." Stella Daniels had gotten into a car accident on her way to the Woodard Group headquarters. She couldn't get through to Bradly Woodard on his phone, so she had no choice but to call the insurance company. The car was registered in Bradly's name, but as his wife, she should be able to process the claim too. "When Mr. Woodard picked up the car, he came with his wife and provided the original marriage license. Her last name is Erickson, and her full name is Shanna Erickson," the rep said. It hit Stella like a slap in the face. Dizziness washed over her in waves, leaving her whole body shaking uncontrollably. She and Bradly had been childhood sweethearts. Their families were old friends, and everyone in Ostralver's high society knew how clingy he was with her. Bradly couldn't stand being apart from her even for a single day. Three years ago, when Stella headed abroad for her studies, Bradly had the plane stopped just for her. During her three years in Ensland, he expanded his business overseas to make it easier to look after her. Sixteen thousand miles apart, he'd still fly across the ocean every week to see her. The year she came down with a severe lung illness and nearly didn't pull through, she spent a week in intensive care. Bradly ignored the infection risks and stayed right by her side, sliding a ring onto her finger. He said, "If anything happens to you, I'll go with you. We'll be husband and wife in the next life too." For Bradly's sake, she turned down her mentor's offer to stay on in the lab and headed back home. Brimming with excitement, she went to find him, planning to surprise him. But when she pushed open the door to the CEO's office, she saw a slender, pretty woman straddling his lap. The woman's innocent face tilted upward, her voice whiny and aggrieved. "Mr. Woodard, what happens to me now that Stella is back?" Bradly sat in his executive chair, his tall frame looming over her. A flash of ruthlessness crossed his stern features. "You? You're just her stand-in. Don't forget your place." He lifted his hand, pinching her delicate chin with a sneer. "Barely a three-out-of-ten resemblance, and you think you can compare to her?" Stella was still clutching the gift she'd prepared for him. With a loud "bang," it dropped to the floor, finally breaking the scene in the office. Bradly's face drained of color as he shoved the woman off and jumped to his feet. That woman was Shanna. After Stella caught them in the act, Bradly fired Shanna on the spot and pulled out all the stops to win her back. Bradly, the arrogant prince of Ostralver's elite circles, humbled himself to the dust before her, begging her to give him another chance. Any project she set her sights on, he'd drop without a second thought. He stood in the pouring rain outside her building for over a week, just for a glimpse of her. He said, "Stella, I'm not asking you to forgive me. At least let me explain. "I only ever saw Shanna as your replacement. You've been gone abroad for so long; I missed you terribly. I swear, I just kept her around. Nothing more ever happened between us. "That time you walked in, I'd had too much to drink, and she deliberately tempted me. I lost control for a moment... "I've already let her go, and she won't show up in our lives again. Stella, please, come back to me." Back then, Stella couldn't stand even the slightest betrayal. She insisted on breaking off the engagement. Until that one incident. She was kidnapped by a business rival. The kidnappers reneged on the deal, tied her up in an abandoned factory, and set the place ablaze. Bradly charged into the flames without a second thought to rescue her, shielding her from a collapsing steel beam. He ended up gravely injured, confined to bed for nearly six months. By risking his life, Bradly finally melted her resolve. Once he was out of the hospital, she accepted his proposal, and they threw a lavish wedding. In the two years since they tied the knot, he'd treated her just as devotedly as ever, with zero scandals. He even imposed a strict curfew on himself, heading home right on time every day. Even on out-of-town business trips, he'd video call her constantly. His partners would tease him about being henpecked. He never denied it. Instead, he'd grin proudly and say, "A real man takes care of his family." Memories rushed through Stella's mind like a whirlwind, every past moment flashing by in a blur. Her legs buckled, and she dropped to her knees, burying her face in her hands. She couldn't figure out which Bradly was the real one anymore. A bitter, mocking gleam sparked in her eyes. She thought, 'How absurd.' She'd been his wife for two years, and only now was she learning that even their marriage license had been a sham. Stella scrubbed her face hard, her bangs already soaked with cold sweat. She ignored the other driver's furious yelling and calmly dialed the police. They showed up fast. After finishing her statement, Stella left the station under a sky that had gone completely dark. Her phone lit up with several missed calls from Bradly. When she hadn't answered, he'd sent texts instead. Bradly: [Babe, I was tied up in a key meeting this afternoon. Signal jammers were on, so I missed your call. You okay?] Bradly: [I've got a client dinner tonight, so I'll be late getting home. I double-checked: no women involved, so no need to worry.] Bradly: [Head to bed early. Don't wait up. Love you.] Stella stared at the screen, a sharp wave of irony twisting in her gut. Bradly didn't stagger in until the wee hours. He reeked of alcohol, which almost, but not quite, masked the subtle whiff of perfume on him. "Honey..." He could barely keep his balance, stumbling over to wrap his arms around her through the blanket. "I missed you so damn much..." Stella didn't say a word. Only once he was dead to the world did she sit up quietly and unlock his phone with his fingerprint. The thing was squeaky clean, no suspicious traces at all. His contacts were mostly buddies and business folks, with hers pinned at the top as "Darling Wife." Flawlessly tidy, just like their sham of a marriage. Stella hooked the phone up to her computer, and it didn't take long to uncover his second WhatsApp account. She signed in, and right away, messages popped up from a profile with a cute pink kitten avatar, labeled "Baby." Shanna: [Bradly, thanks for tonight. Without you, I wouldn't have known what to do.] Shanna: [I've always thought meeting you was the luckiest thing that's ever happened to me. I won't intrude on your life. As long as you swing by to see me once in a while, that's enough to make me happy.] Stella scrolled back through the history. She'd suspected as much, but seeing it all laid out still hit her like a punch to the chest, leaving her breathless. They chatted nearly every day. Shanna never missed a good morning message, and Bradly's replies had shifted over time, from total silence at first, to sporadic responses, and now to answering every single one. A chill spread through her. Stella clutched the phone tighter, knowing she should quit while she was ahead but unable to stop herself from digging deeper. Shanna: [Bradly, sorry, I had a few drinks and lost it for a bit. Doc says I'm okay now, so don't stress.] Shanna: [Mrs. Woodard's birthday bash is important. Go enjoy it with her. I'll be fine.] Stella squeezed her eyes shut as the memory came rushing back. Her birthday. Bradly had spent over a month planning it down to the last detail, but that day, he was totally distracted. Hell, he almost cut his own hand while slicing the cake. When she'd asked what was up, he'd brushed it off as work drama, told her not to worry, then pulled her into a soft embrace and encouraged her to blow out the candles and make a wish. It all made sense now, as she stared at this chat log. That same day, Shanna had tried to kill herself by slashing her wrists and ended up in the ER. A sour bitterness flooded her chest like a rising tide. In those brief seconds when she'd closed her eyes to wish, she wondered, 'Was he agonizing over Shanna in the hospital, or picturing endless years together with her?' Stella knew she didn't need an answer to that anymore. She gently placed the phone back and looked down at Bradly, fast asleep beside her. She'd known him since she was four, and for the twenty years that followed, she'd truly believed his love was hers alone, irreplaceable. But now she saw it for what it was: just cheap free samples at a store, handed out to anyone who walked by. If that was all it amounted to, she was done with it. Chapter 2 Bid Against Her The next day, Stella woke to find Bradly busy in the kitchen, his broad shoulders narrowing to a slim waist, his tall, lean build moving with purpose. The sight hit her hard, a dull ache tightening in her chest. Bradly had learned to cook entirely for her sake. She still remembered that turbulent period when the Woodard Group was in crisis. His rivals had targeted her, paying off a servant to poison her food. She'd been unconscious for three full days. When she finally woke, Bradly was there, his eyes red-rimmed and veined with exhaustion, gripping her hand like a lifeline. The instant she stirred, the imposing Bradly crumbled forward, enveloping her in a hug as scalding tears fell onto her skin. From then on, Bradly threw himself into cooking lessons, taking charge of all her meals. In less than a month, he'd gone from a spoiled elite who couldn't distinguish spices to turning out dishes worthy of a Michelin chef. Just then, his phone rang. Stella glanced at it but made no move to answer. Bradly darted out of the kitchen, apron still on, grabbing the phone with a barely concealed flash of anxiety. Stella pretended not to notice and went to wash up. When she came back, the table was set with breakfast, and he was slipping into his suit jacket from the coat rack. Seeing her, he said gently, "There's an emergency at work. I have to run. Sorry I can't join you for breakfast." Stella murmured, "Sure, work comes first." He was clearly in a hurry, because he didn't pick up on the new edge of cool distance in her tone and rushed out. She stared blankly after him until he was gone, then dumped the entire spread into the trash. Then she picked up her phone and dialed a number. "That offer you made before? I'm on board." The person on the other end erupted in delight, chattering away before shifting to broken Andosa Language. "Stella, why the sudden change of heart? I've bugged you about this so many times, and you always said you were married now and focusing on family." A mocking glint flickered in Stella's eyes. She thought, 'Married? This so-called marriage has been dead on arrival.' The caller was her former mentor from her overseas studies. He'd reached out lately, hoping she'd join his new team and spearhead a major project. At the time, she'd kept saying no out of loyalty to Bradly. Now, she only wished she'd seen through the absurd joke of their marriage earlier. After the call, she contacted immigration to schedule a passport renewal. It would take about a week. But before heading out, she had one loose end to tie up. That evening, Stella showed up at a private auction at the Cloud Hotel. She was after one of her mother's keepsakes. Her mom had died when she was eight, and soon after, the Daniels family had liquidated her wedding gift. Stella had been hunting down the items ever since. Over the years, she'd only reclaimed a few. Tonight's auction featured a bracelet from that collection, one her mother had picked up on a trip to Ijance. It was utterly unique, irreplaceable. Whatever it took, she was getting it back. Stella settled into her seat just as the auction was about to start. She was flipping through the catalog when Bradly's voice floated over. "Didn't I already pick out that royal blue sapphire set for you? Not good enough?" His voice carried that familiar tenderness. Shanna linked her arm with his, pouting playfully. "Your taste sucks! I want to pick my own birthday gift." Stella watched them quietly until Bradly threaded through the guests and their gazes collided by chance. The color drained from his face. On pure reflex, he jerked his arm away from Shanna. "Stella." He strode over quickly. "I tried calling you a few times, but you didn't answer. Were you planning to surprise me?" Even though he tried to play it cool, she could still catch that subtle hint of panic in his expression. Stella didn't bother calling him on it, replying evenly, "My phone was on silent. I didn't hear it." Bradly visibly relaxed, casually taking her hand in his with a look of concern. "Your hands are like ice. Didn't I warn you about the cold snap today? You're always putting style over staying warm. If you catch a chill, you know it'll just kill me." As he talked, he signaled a server for a blanket and draped it snugly around her shoulders. Stella kept a straight face, brushing him off as she looked past him to Shanna, who lingered behind with a scowl. Shanna nibbled her lip, then defiantly dropped into the seat next to Bradly, her gaze simmering with irritation. Bradly leaned closer, dropping his voice to explain, "We just wrapped up a major project at the company, and Shanna pulled her weight big time. Her birthday's around the corner, so I thought I'd treat her to something as a project bonus." He eyed her anxiously. "Stella, you're not mad, right?" Shanna piped up in a soft, vulnerable tone. "Mrs. Woodard, if this upsets you, I'll just go. I don't want to get in the way of you and Mr. Woodard." Stella's mouth quirked into a smile that never touched her eyes. "We're married. A little thing like this? Of course it doesn't bother me." The auction got underway shortly after. Bradly treated Shanna like she was invisible, focusing entirely on Stella. He paged through the catalog, throwing in bids left and right. "Babe, this would look amazing on you." He grinned, tenderly brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his tone warm and intimate. "You'd be gorgeous in it." Stella averted her eyes, but out of the corner of her vision, she saw Shanna discreetly clutching the edge of Bradly's jacket in the dim light. Their gazes locked for a split second in a shared, lingering look. She masked the derision in her own eyes, struck by how absurd it all was. Bradly seemed totally at ease juggling both women, convinced he was keeping things balanced, one with the official status, the other with his undivided public attention. She thought, 'What could be fairer than that?' But Stella had never been interested in that kind of equilibrium. Her world extended far beyond romance. Bradly? He was just a small detour on her path, a misstep she'd own up to. And now, it was time to set things right. "Next up: a string of bracelet. Fine-grained texture, deep aroma that lingers. Starting bid at 170,000 dollars, with increments of at least 20,000 dollars!" The auctioneer's pumped-up voice echoed through the room. Finally, Stella's main target for the evening. Bids flew in fast, the screen flickering with updates as the auctioneer called out, "Number 17 lady at 200,000 dollars! Number 9 gentleman ups it to 260,000 dollars! Going higher?" Once the initial frenzy tapered off, Stella lifted her paddle. "500,000 dollars." She'd doubled the current bid in one go. It was a hefty amount. Sure, the bracelet was top-notch, but it wasn't the auction's highlight. The room went quiet after her call; no one countered. "Fantastic! Number 11 lady at 500,000 dollars! "500,000 dollars once! 500,000 dollars twice!" The auctioneer hoisted his gavel, poised to bring it down. "No more bids? Then 500,000 dollars—" "520,000 dollars," A gentle, hesitant voice interrupted. Shanna shrank against Bradly's side, paddle in hand, murmuring timidly to him, "Is this where I put in the amount?" Chapter 3 You're Dirty Stella frowned and raised her bid. "540,000 dollars." But Shanna was right behind her, countering with, "560,000 dollars." How annoyingly precise, each time, she stuck to the bare minimum, slapping on just 20,000 dollars more than Stella's offer. Shanna turned toward her, her voice dripping with plea. "Stella, you've got plenty of jewelry already. Please, let me have this one. I adore it. "I'm not like you, born with money, everything handed to you on a silver platter. You snap your fingers and get whatever you want. If it goes any higher, I really won't be able to keep up." Stella didn't bother looking at her, just quirking her lips in a thin smile. "Isn't Mr. Woodard covering the cost for you? What are you stressing about?" Shanna's face went a shade paler, but she answered in that soft, demure tone, "Even so, Mr. Woodard earns his money the hard way. If I can save him a bit, I ought to." She was the epitome of considerate and caring. After several more back-and-forth bids, the bracelet's price had soared to 700,000 dollars. Stella let out a chilly scoff and was opening her mouth to up the ante when Bradly beat her to it. He said, "Babe, why don't we just let Shanna take this bracelet?" Stella's fingers curled into a tight fist, her nails biting into her palm. She lifted her gaze, any lingering warmth in her eyes turning to ice. "What did you just say?" Bradly let out a resigned sigh, giving her hand a comforting pat as he murmured gently, "Babe, I already told Shanna she'd get a gift tonight, and she's got her heart set on this one. No need to compete with her. "Plus, I've already snagged you a handful of other pieces. Isn't that plenty?" He said it all lightly, teasingly, as if it were nothing more than a harmless quip. Stella shut her eyes, a nameless sourness creeping along her nerves, coiling around her heart until it felt like she couldn't draw a breath. Given Shanna's modest background, 700,000 dollars was way out of her league. She wouldn't even make the guest list here on her own. The only reason she was in that seat, trading bids blow for blow, was Bradly's backing. His pampering had delivered her straight into Stella's path. Stella whispered, "What if I refuse to back down?" She hoisted her paddle once more, her voice echoing through the room. "1 million dollars." A hush blanketed the hall. The auctioneer clearly picked up on the drama, his delivery faltering. "Number eleven at 1 million dollars. Do I hear higher?" Shanna's eyes welled up, on the verge of tears, as she cast a helpless look at Bradly before tacking on another fifty thousand. "1 million 20 thousand dollars." Stella's features hardened to frost, and she was poised to fire back when the manager bustled over, bending close to murmur, "Mrs. Woodard, apologies. We ran a credit verification on your account, and it's frozen. Got another one we can use?" The words slammed into her like a bolt from the blue, ringing in her ears. She snapped her head toward Bradly, but he'd already looked away. An icy numbness spread through her arms and legs. She though,t 'Of course, it has to be him.' Her primary account was linked with his; besides her, only he could authorize a freeze on her cards. Triumph flickered in Shanna's eyes as she added with a pointed edge, "Well, in that case, Mrs. Woodard, maybe it's time to step aside. You've got so much already. Can't you let me have this one little thing?" Up on stage, the auction rolled on, the display frozen on Shanna's latest bid: 1 million 20 thousand dollars. Shanna could hardly hide her glee, chirping sweetly, "Go on, call it!" But the words had barely left her lips when someone announced he would bid for the lot at any costs right in the second-floor VIP suite. After a momentary silence, the room burst into chaos. "He's declared absolute intent!" Even the auctioneer's expression changed. He'd been in the game for over a decade, but this was his first encounter with such a scenario. He hurriedly called out, "Lot number six goes to the gentleman in box 217, regardless of how high the price goes." Anyone up in those second-floor VIP suites was either swimming in money or held serious sway in Ostralver's upper crust. Stella glanced upward toward the source of the voice, catching only a vague outline behind the draped curtains. Even when she couldn't see his face, the man's crossed-legged posture radiated an unspoken dominance that pressed down on the room. The auctioneer slammed his gavel down with finality, proclaiming, "Congratulations to our esteemed guest in box 217 on winning lot number six! You're now upgraded to black gold status!" Across all of Ostralver's elite scene, fewer than a handful had ever hit black gold level at these events. Stella wondered, 'Just who is this mystery man?' Stella loosened her clenched fist slightly, torn between relief that her mother's heirloom hadn't landed in Shanna's clutches and anxiety over reclaiming it from this unknown figure. No matter what, she'd stop at nothing, pay any price, to bring her mother's possession home. She rose to her feet, intent on marching over to box 217 for a chat, when the attendant who'd just ducked inside reappeared, tray in hand with the bracelet. "What's this? The bidder in 217 having second thoughts?" "Auctions don't do take-backs." "Probably short on funds. I called it. No one's done this here before." As the murmurs swirled, the attendant headed straight for Stella, dipping into a courteous bow with a warm smile. She said, "Mrs. Woodard, the gentleman in box 217 requests that I deliver the bracelet to you as a gift. He wishes for you to follow your true path and for all to unfold as it should." The place erupted in gossip once more, with guests shooting glances her way, some envious, others skeptical, many flat-out stunned. "Isn't that Mrs. Woodard? What's her deal with the upstairs guy?" "Likely just buttering up Mr. Woodard." "Nah, I don't buy it. Out of all the goodies tonight, why zero in on those beads for Mrs. Woodard? Sounds like she's got a real connection there." The buzz filtered through, and Bradly's face turned stone-cold. In a tight, edged voice, he demanded, "Stella, what's the story with you and whoever's in box 217?" Stella held his piercing stare and said flatly, "I have no idea who he is." "!" Bradly jumped up, clamping down on her wrist like a vice. Her soft, fair skin reddened almost instantly under the pressure. Stella winced sharply, jerking her arm back on reflex. "Bradly, have you lost your mind? Haven't you stirred up enough drama for one day?" But he barreled on, blind to her fury, his reddened eyes locked on her as if he could swallow her up. "What's really between you two? "Stella, through all our married years, I've bent over backward for you. Anything you desired, I served it up without question. Why would you betray me like this?" In his mind, it was already a done deal: she was entangled in something shady with the man above. If the guy was angling for a favor from him, Bradly would've recognized him right away. People in Ostralver didn't beat around the bush when they needed something from him. They came direct. The jab landed raw and direct. Bradly blinked, frozen for a beat as a flicker of alarm shot through his eyes. Chapter 4 Don't Know You'd Come Bradly said, "I'm sorry, Stella. I didn't mean it like that. I had no right getting jealous over you and some stranger. It's all on me." Bradly's eyes reddened. "But honestly, there's nothing going on between Shanna and me. I just brought her along as a thank-you. Can you let this slide?" Seeing his cue, Shanna ducked her head meekly, her voice catching. "That's right, Mrs. Woodard. I've been bending over backward to keep my distance from Mr. Woodard so you wouldn't get the wrong impression. "I'm not asking for the world, just a decent birthday gift. I didn't grow up with your advantages; you've had everything handed to you and even snagged a catch like Mr. Woodard. Can't I at least pick out something for myself?" "Just a gift, huh?" Stella closed in on her, one step at a time. "Ms. Erickson, I've never given a damn about this 'gift' you're going on about. What gets under my skin is you, a Woodard Group employee, crossing lines you have no business crossing." As they drew closer, Bradly instinctively stepped in front of Shanna, his voice soft and coaxing. "Stella, if it's bugging you this much, I'll transfer her to a branch office once the auction's over. "But for now, cut me some slack. Let Shanna have the bracelet. When we get home, name your price on anything, and it's yours." Shanna bobbed her head in agreement, tears glistening on her lashes as she pleaded, "Stella, I really adore this bracelet. You've got it all already. Why go after the one thing I want? "Or is this just because you hate my guts and can't resist taking shots at me?" "What makes you think I'd ever like you?" Stella let out a cold snort. "This belonged to me from the start. Why the hell would I give it up?" She took the bracelet from the attendant with casual ease, her smile sharp but empty. "Ms. Erickson, know your place." Her refusal to budge finally wore through Bradly's patience, erasing every bit of softness from his face. "Stella, do you have to humiliate me like this in front of everyone? Where does that leave my dignity? "It's just a crappy old bracelet. Am I really worth less to you than some trinket?" He said it with such conviction, as if he'd wiped from his memory the solemn vow he'd made when proposing: that he'd hunt down every single one of her mother's sold-off keepsakes, no matter what. Stella's hand flew up, delivering a resounding slap across his cheek. The sharp crack rang out, pulling shocked stares from every corner of the room. Bradly's head snapped sideways, his face livid as he fixed her with a glare, his words hissing through clenched teeth. "Stella, drop the drama already. Have I pampered you too much these days, turning you into this unreasonable nightmare?" Stella reined in her temper, keeping her tone even. "Bradly, you better not live to regret today." Without another word, she turned and walked out, not sparing a backward glance. As her figure receded, Shanna gently touched the angry red mark on Bradly's cheek, her voice full of worry. "Mr. Woodard, are you okay? "Stella's got no boundaries. How could she hit you with all these people watching?" Bradly swatted her hand aside, his nails digging into his palm as he stared after her retreating path. "I've spoiled her rotten, letting her forget that everything she has comes from me." Shanna peeked at his changing expression, testing the waters. "Mr. Woodard, about the bracelet..." Bradly rubbed his throbbing cheek, pulled a bank card from his pocket, and handed it over. "1.7 million dollars on there. Buy whatever catches your eye." Box 217, Stella rapped on the door, eager to thank the mystery bidder face-to-face. Silence. She caught a server walking by. "Excuse me, any idea where the gentleman from this box headed?" "He slipped out right after nabbing the last item," the server said. Disappointment flashed in her eyes, but Stella pressed on, "Do you know who he was?" The server gave her a regretful smile. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard, we're not allowed to spill on our VIPs. Don't make this harder for us." Catching herself, Stella moved out of the way. "Thanks all the same." By the time she made it home from the auction, an hour had ticked by. Stella went straight up to the study, fired up the computer, and dove into the assets registered under her and Bradly's names. After tallying up the numbers, she snatched her phone, found lawyer Rubin Cobb's contact, and hit dial. She said, "I've sorted out the asset division documents for me and Bradly and sent them over. I need you to handle the property split by tomorrow." Rubin quickly received the files and nodded respectfully. "Of course, Mrs. Woodard. I'll get right on it." Stella stared intently at her computer screen, her grip tightening on the mouse. "If Bradly's committed bigamy, how should our assets be divided?" "Generally, any property the bigamous party gained through the bigamy can be claimed back by the other spouse," Rubin replied matter-of-factly. Half of Bradly's current wealth had come from Stella's investments to support his career early on. Her expression darkened, and she promptly forwarded the marriage license between him and Shanna. "Rubin, please use every legal avenue to recover my half of the assets." After hanging up, Stella slumped back in her chair, utterly drained physically and emotionally. She closed her eyes slowly, but sleep was nowhere in sight. Bradly would never agree to a divorce. Until she had everything locked down, she couldn't let on that anything was amiss. Just then, the study door was kicked open from the outside. Bradly flung his jacket onto the desk and yanked Stella up from her seat in front of the computer. "Do you realize that because of your little outburst, I've become a laughingstock in our circles? "What exactly do you want? Are you still obsessing over what happened back then?" Stella opened her eyes slowly, her gaze settling calmly on Bradly, but she remained silent. A fire raged in Bradly's chest, intensifying by the second, and he couldn't hold back his fury any longer. "Since we got married, have I ever done anything to wrong you? I come home right on time every night after work, I always fill you in on any business dinners, and if there's even a hint of a woman involved, I skip them entirely! I've bent over backward, and it's still not good enough for you?" He remembered every detail crystal clear. In his mind, these were the sacrifices he'd made to marry her. Stella suddenly found the whole thing absurd. She couldn't bear to look at him anymore, so she stood up and walked straight out of the study without a backward glance. Behind her, Bradly's voice echoed heavily. "Stella, no matter what you think, my conscience is clear." It felt like Stella's heart had been shattered into icy fragments, a sharp, bitter pain surging through her. Her mind buzzed, and for a moment, all she could hear was that phrase repeating over and over. She thought, 'My conscience is clear? So, in his eyes, everything he's done is perfectly justifiable.' The next morning, when Stella woke up, Bradly was already gone. On the table sat the breakfast he'd prepared, tailored exactly to her tastes. Stella pressed her lips together, her feelings a complicated tangle. They'd ended things on a sour note last night, yet Bradly had still made her breakfast this morning. But this was the same man who'd lied to her for years. No matter what, it was time to end things with Bradly. She didn't touch the food and headed straight to the office. These past few years, she'd stayed out of Bradly's business dealings. A lot of her old financial records were outdated now, and she needed the latest reports. The secretary looked startled when she saw her, then managed to say, "Mrs. Woodard, are you here to see Mr. Woodard?" "No." Stella replied evenly. "Send the finance manager in to see me." Her shares were second only to Bradly's, giving her full access to every aspect of the company. The secretary hesitated briefly before nodding. Stella noticed her immediately turning to make a phone call, probably alerting Bradly. Stella didn't intervene; let her. She settled into the finance office, sipping her coffee absentmindedly while flipping through magazines on the shelf. Most were glossy entertainment rags, mixed in with novels and comics. Stella frowned, only now picking up on the details: the desk was covered in a pink plaid mat, cluttered with adorable plush toys. The standout pair was a set of couple dolls, their outfits emblazoned with the letters W and E. It hit Stella suddenly what that meant, and just then, the door behind her swung open. Shanna rushed in. "Sorry, Mrs. Woodard." She was clutching a cup of coffee as she apologized. "I had no idea you'd drop by like this..." Chapter 5 All For Milford Stella arched an eyebrow as she looked her over. "So you're the finance manager?" Shanna nodded with a quick smile. "That's me. If you need anything at all, just say the word. Bradly, well, Mr. Woodard is tied up in a meeting right now. But don't worry, I'll make sure to relay whatever message you have." Stella let out a soft laugh. "No need for that." She regarded Shanna with clear curiosity. "I'm not looking for Bradly. I'm here to see you." Shanna's smile faltered for a moment before she recovered, her tone turning gentle. "Mrs. Woodard, I get that you're still bothered by what went down at the auction last night, but there's no reason to be so worked up about my connection to Mr. Woodard. After all..." She raised her hand, the elegant diamond ring on her finger glinting under the light, perfectly complementing her bashful grin. "I'm already married, and things are great between me and my husband." Stella's eyes locked on the ring, her breath hitching just for an instant. It was ridiculous. In this whole messed-up situation, she was the one playing the role of the mistress. The ring was an exact match for the one Bradly had given her during his proposal. But within seconds, Stella averted her gaze. "It's a lovely ring, but you're mistaken." She spoke unhurriedly, "I'm just here to grab the latest financial report from you. That's all." Stella caught the sour shift in Shanna's expression and smiled to herself. "Seems like you're the one on edge here, Ms. Erickson." Shanna's face transformed completely, that smug spark in her eyes snuffed out. She bit her lip, unable to find words for a long beat. Stella watched her with unruffled poise. "Do I need to repeat my request, Ms. Erickson?" The words had barely left her mouth when Bradly burst in, his expression clouding over at the sight. "Stella, wasn't the scene from last night enough?" His voice was laced with ice. "How long are you planning to drag this out? I've told you already. There's nothing going on between me and Shanna. If you don't believe me..." Stella interrupted him mid-sentence, "Oh, I believe you. Absolutely." A faint smirk tugged at her lips, though her eyes remained frosty as they settled on Shanna. "After all, Ms. Erickson's already married. She just mentioned it herself." The statement landed like a bomb. Shanna's face drained of color, and Bradly's followed suit. He shot her a withering glare. Tears sprang to Shanna's eyes in an instant. Stella had no interest in watching the drama unfold any further. She said evenly, "I'm here for this year's financials. I hold forty percent of the company. Surely I can access that, right?" Bradly seemed to snap back to reality, nodding hastily. "Of course you can." He barked orders at the secretary to fetch it immediately, all the while stealing wary glances at her face. Once he confirmed she wasn't giving anything away, he exhaled almost imperceptibly in relief. He said, "Stella, what's with the sudden interest? You've never bothered with company matters before." Stella answered coolly, "After the account freeze last night, I decided it's smarter to set up a separate one." Bradly's expression froze again. "Stella..." The secretary returned promptly with the report. Stella brushed Bradly aside, skimmed through it quickly, and was heading for the door when he caught her by the wrist. He said, "Stella, about the family dinner tonight, are you coming home with me?" His tone was pleading, like he needed her answer to reassure himself that she hadn't caught on to anything fishy. Stella didn't look back, just replying calmly, "Sure." Bradly's face lit up. "Great, I'll swing by after work to pick you up." Stella dropped her gaze, masking the cool detachment in her eyes. She'd only agreed to head back to the family estate for one specific reason. The marriage license from when she and Bradly had tied the knot was a phony, but he'd made a whole production out of stashing it away at the house, claiming it had to be kept secure. Nothing could serve as stronger proof. Once she got her hands on it, his bigamy would be ironclad. Stella didn't bother waiting for Bradly; she hailed a cab and got there ahead of time. She'd figured it was just a standard family gathering, but she was caught off guard by the full turnout. Bradly's parents, fresh from their overseas vacation last week, were back, and even the distant relatives from the Woodard family's side branches had shown up en masse. "Stella, dear." As she walked in, Nadine Woodard peered over her shoulder. "Bradly didn't come with you?" Stella answered evenly, "He'll be along shortly." Nadine clicked her tongue, her irritation obvious. "On an important occasion like this, letting someone from outside the family arrive solo, what's got into him?" Stella's brow furrowed just a touch. She and Bradly had been engaged since childhood, but after her mother's passing, the Daniels family's status had tanked while the Woodard family kept climbing. That was when Nadine started pushing to scrap the arrangement, and she'd mentioned it more than a few times. But Chuck Woodard was upright and principled, flat-out refusing to play the social-climbing game. With Bradly dead set on marrying her and no one else, Nadine had reluctantly given in, though she made her resentment clear. Even after the marriage, she never passed up an opportunity to give Stella the cold shoulder. She was about to add something else when the butler rushed in and murmured, "He's here." Nadine promptly dropped the subject with Stella and jumped to her feet, the extended family hustling out right behind her to welcome the arrivals. The level of pomp surprised Stella. The Woodard family was already at the top of Ostralver's social elite. For them to pull out all the stops like this... Standing at the edge of the group, Stella glanced up and saw a black Maybach rolling up to the front of the estate. Someone hurried forward to open the door respectfully, and a tall, imposing figure stepped out unhurriedly. The man wore a sleek black suit, his chiseled features sharp, eyes as midnight, radiating a fierce intensity. Every gesture exuded a natural poise and authority that made it tough to hold his stare. The crowd swarmed forward in a rush, but he stayed cool and detached the whole time, his stunningly handsome face as impassive as carved ice, showing zero emotion. Then, as if picking up on something, he looked up toward Stella. Their eyes locked unexpectedly, sending her heart pounding. It was Milford Woodard, Bradly's brother. He'd returned to the country. Though they were brothers in name, Milford wasn't all that tight with the family. He'd headed overseas young and had spent years growing the business abroad. His father Edward Woodard was a total lightweight, good only at spending cash, not earning it. His grandpa Chuck had the smarts and drive, but age was catching up, leaving him unable to manage it all. Real power over the Woodard family had shifted to Milford ages ago. Stella let out a quiet breath. She thought, 'That explains the big crowd today. They've all turned out for Milford.' Chapter 6 Need Help? Stella lingered in the corner of the living room, watching the relatives descend like a swarm of locusts, all scrambling to surround Milford. Bradly stood next to Nadine, flashing a polished smile as he greeted, "Hey, Milford." The uncles who'd been buttering up Bradly just a minute ago quickly switched gears, beaming with over-the-top enthusiasm as they stepped up to say hello. "Milford, what prompted the sudden return?" "Milford, I hear you're in the middle of acquiring a domestic company? You're just getting more impressive by the day." "Come on inside, take a seat. We've got some top-shelf coffee." Bradly caught the stark contrast in the uncles' warmth, his smile fading briefly before he pulled it together and led the way forward. Stella quietly eyed the tall, strikingly handsome Milford striding into the living room like the star of the show, instinctively edging back a step. Now fully pushed to the fringes of the crowd, she shifted aside to let the trailing group pass, doing everything she could to blend into the wallpaper. Milford approached steadily. Unlike Bradly's flashy, outgoing vibe, he had a more brooding, aloof kind of handsomeness, like a pine tree blanketed in snow, regal and intimidating. He acknowledged the flattery around him with simple nods, his eyes scanning the room casually, subtly taking stock of everyone there. Until his gaze swept over Stella again, and he came to an abrupt halt. He paused, causing Bradly to stop too. "Something wrong, Milford?" Milford didn't respond, his steady gaze fixed on Stella. It was only a look, but it jolted her to her core. She felt an odd sense of being claimed, uninvited. Yet she'd barely crossed paths with Milford before. Bradly and the others traced his stare, his eyebrow quirking up. "Stella, come say hi to Big Milford." Stella started to step forward, but Milford beat her to it, walking straight toward her. Bradly and the rest exchanged surprised glances. So far, everyone had been approaching Milford. He hadn't initiated with a soul. Milford's deep eyes gave nothing away. "Stella?" Her breath hitched, like a faint breeze had brushed her ear. She hadn't anticipated him coming over to chat. It had been years, and they'd only met once or twice, but he still remembered her. Stella nodded. "Milford, it's been ages—" Before she could finish, Milford held out his hand. The move was so casual, so natural. Out of pure reflex and politeness, Stella extended hers, their palms connecting. In that brief clasp, she felt him squeeze gently, his thumb settling on her fingers and grazing them with a warm intensity. Milford released after just a second. Suddenly, Bradly sidled up, drawing Stella into his side with an arm around her waist, lacing his fingers through her left hand. He said, "Milford, how long are you in town this time? Stella and I can take you out to dinner one of these days." Milford took in their cozy pose, his glance dropping to their intertwined hands. "About a month." The words had barely left his mouth when Chuck came down the stairs, leaning on the butler for support. Milford headed over to talk with him. Not long after, the kitchen called that the party was ready. Stella trailed Bradly to their seats on the left side of the main table. Everyone filed in and sat. As the eldest branch, the two Woodard brothers took priority. Chuck claimed the head of the main table, with Nadine and Milford next in line. Stella and Bradly fell further down the order, landing her right across from Milford on the diagonal. The family feast got underway, with everyone firing questions at Milford about what he'd been up to lately. Stella kept her head down, nibbling at her food while catching bits of the conversation. Zrester bigwig, major stakeholder in Wonder Group, founder of that financial exchange and the smart transportation AI... Milford's credentials were endless and mind-blowing. She thought back to that Zrester party invite list she'd snagged years ago. Milford was third from the top, while she languished at the bottom. In all these years, she'd had next to no interaction with him. Right after the wedding, this mysterious Milford had only shown up once. He dropped off a gift and vanished. In just a handful of years, Milford had climbed to the pinnacle of Zrester's power players. His talent was obvious. Before long, the family party wound down, and folks scattered to grab desserts. Still hung up on that marriage license, Stella excused herself to head upstairs for a coat change. Bradly was itching to chat with Milford, his gaze fixed that way as he muttered distractedly, "Yeah, go on up." Stella wasted no time hustling upstairs. With the crowd milling about downstairs, she slipped to the third floor of the villa and nudged open Bradly's bedroom door. There it was: the glaring marriage license perched right on top of the nightstand, framed, flanked by their wedding portrait. As she stepped closer, memories of Bradly's cozy moments with Shanna flooded her brain, her nails digging slowly into her palm. That license seared her eyes, like it was sneering at her gullibility. She never should've caved, never should've handed Bradly a second shot. It just went to show that people's hearts circled back for seconds. Disgust flickered in her eyes as she hauled the desk's computer chair over, the kind with wheels and a swivel, shaky at best. She climbed onto it, planting one foot on the bed for stability, teetering just enough to hold steady. Stella hiked up her pearl-white knee-length dress a bit and stretched upward slowly. Fingers extended to the max, but she was still a couple inches shy. She rose onto her tiptoes, straining, but no dice. Frowning from her perch, she scanned around and snagged a book from beside the cabinet. As she leaned down, footsteps suddenly echoed outside the door. Fast, but measured. A man's, for sure. Her pulse spiked. She clutched the table, scrambling to hop down, but, perfect timing, her other sleeve caught on the cabinet's edge. She tugged frantically to break free, but it was too late to descend. The door flew open out of nowhere. Stella went rigid, her knees giving way as she toppled backward off the chair. A quick yelp escaped her, but the expected crash never hit. A firm hand latched precisely onto her thigh, another banding around her waist, hauling her into a solid hold and planting her feet firmly on the floor. She slammed into a warm, toned chest, a crisp, grounding sandalwood aroma enveloping her, not Bradly's scent. Stella glanced up, nearly clipping the guy's chin. Milford let go right away, backing off a step to give her space. Her cheeks burned, the thigh he'd gripped feeling like it was on fire. Mortified and frozen, she stammered, "Th-thanks." Milford stayed composed, his eyes skimming her flushed face and the pinkened patch of skin on her thigh from his hold. His Adam's apple dipped subtly. "Didn't realize you were in here. My bad." Stella shook her head, even more flustered. She was the one imposing on him. Milford flicked a glance upward. "Need some help?" She looked too. Up top, the marriage license screamed for attention. Chapter 7 Don't Let Me Hate You Stella just came out with it. "I want to get the marriage license down." Milford hesitated for a beat, without probing why she needed it, and slid the chair out of the way. Tall and long-limbed, he barely had to tip up on his toes to snag it effortlessly. Milford skimmed the lettering on the license, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes before the faintest quirk tugged at his lips, almost undetectable. He passed it over to Stella. "Ah, I see." She missed the words, taking it with a soft murmur: "Thanks, Milford." Her palms were slick with sweat now, but holding the certificate still sent an icy shiver through her. Those bold letters were a brutal reminder. This whole marriage had been one big joke. From beginning to end, Bradly's grand performance of undying love had always had a third wheel in the shadows. Milford dropped his gaze. Towering over her, all he could make out was the neat swirl at the top of her head, round and oddly appealing. Those slim, pale hands gripped the certificate like a vise, completely bloodless. Milford asked offhandedly, "So, what's the marriage license for?" "Oh, I just want to bring it home and store it there," Stella shot back, pulling an excuse out of thin air. Milford's stare felt like it enveloped her, the heat of it almost scorching, though he kept his hands to himself. Then he casually adjusted his cufflinks and turned to go. Stella let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, sagging against the cool cabinet. Her thigh still tingled with warmth from his grip; she quickly smoothed her skirt down, tucked the license into her bag, and only left the room once everything looked undisturbed. Bradly was still out in the back garden, deep in conversation. Stella kept her face neutral, strolling over to stand at his side. A few relatives were chatting with him. "Hey, word is Milford actually got back a couple days ago, but only tipped us off today." Bradly looked taken aback. "I thought he was flying in today?" "Nope, sounds like he hit up some auction. I only heard bits and pieces, supposedly the other night at the Empire Auction House." "He must not have gone. I was there that evening too, and I didn't see him anywhere," Bradly said, frowning in confusion. Stella's eyelashes flickered subtly, but she played it cool. Out of nowhere, her mind jumped back to that enigmatic bidder in suite 217. She wondered, 'Could Milford be the mystery guest who got the bracelet for me?' She shoved the thought down as soon as it surfaced. They'd only crossed paths once, total strangers really, connected by the flimsiest in-law tie. No matter how you sliced it, Milford wouldn't stick his neck out for her. Just like Bradly said, he hadn't caught wind of anything, so it couldn't be Milford. Stella let it go. After some more mingling, the group started to break up. Bradly steered her over to bid farewell to Milford. "Mom, Milford, we're taking off. Let's set up a family dinner soon when things settle." Milford slouched back in his chair with effortless nonchalance and gave a nod. "I'm knee-deep in an acquisition, no hurry on the get-together. But you..." He lifted his head, his expression sharpening. "Keep your life on the straight and narrow. Don't veer off track." The edge of warning in his voice was crystal clear. Bradly had grown up overshadowed by Milford; he went rigid but brushed it off casually. "Come on, everything's good. My company's running smooth as ever. If you're skeptical, drop by anytime and pore over the financials—knock yourself out." "It's not just about the company," Milford said softly, eyes down as he savored a sip of coffee. Stella couldn't help stealing a glance at him, and in that instant, a ridiculous idea struck her. From what Bradly had mentioned, Milford was abroad most of the time but still had the inside scoop on everything back home. She wondered, 'Does he know about the shady stuff Bradly is up to on the sly?' "Milford, I hear you. I'll make sure to nurture my marriage with Stella, our whole life together." Bradly grinned, threading his fingers through Stella's. Milford's gaze lingered on their joined hands for a second before drifting away, sealed with a subtle nod. Stella had no desire for any more close contact with Bradly, so she subtly shook his hand free without thinking. A split second later, his disbelieving stare locked onto her face, and he tried to grab her again. She'd known her move would humiliate him in the moment, so she didn't bother saying goodbye to Milford. She just turned and walked out ahead. Once they slid into the car, Bradly shed his polite, deferential mask from earlier, reverting to his entitled rich-kid swagger. He tugged his tie loose, a flicker of annoyance pinching his brows. "Always playing the big-brother card to chew me out, same crap since we were little. "So what if he's crushing it overseas? I'm holding my own just fine back home. Who in Ostralver would even think about messing with me?" Bradly fished out a menthol cigarette on autopilot, ready to light up, but he caught himself after glancing at Stella and shoved it back. He said, "All these years, folks have been whispering, or saying it straight to my face, that my company's thriving because of his pull. Like he's behind every damn thing. "And you? You flat-out refused to let me hold your hand back there. Trying to make me look like an idiot in front of him?" His expression iced over, the edge in his voice impossible to miss. Stella's frown deepened as she took it in. Even without knowing Milford all that well, she understood that Bradly's cocky antics in Ostralver, brushing people off like they were nothing, had always been propped up by Milford's clout. She'd assumed the brothers were tight, but clearly Bradly's respect was just for show; underneath, his grudge against Milford simmered deep. She could overlook a lot, but with things the way they were now, there was zero point in him putting on that phony hand-holding act. Stella gripped her bag, the one with the marriage license inside, and couldn't bite her tongue. "We haven't held hands in forever. It feels off to me." The car went dead quiet. She was right. Their physical closeness had dwindled so much that even she couldn't pinpoint the last time. Bradly's brow creased, and he snapped the cigarette filter clean off between his fingers. "What was that?" Stella met his eyes steadily. "From here on out, let's skip the pointless touchy-feely stuff. It just doesn't sit right." She hadn't even finished when the brakes screeched harshly. The car lurched to a halt on the empty shoulder of the road. Stella almost smacked into the window from the force, her pulse hammering as she barked, "Are you out of your mind?" Bradly loomed over her, fingers digging into her chin, irritation boiling in his glare. "Stella, do you have any idea what you're saying?" The pinch stung like crazy, and the absurdity of it all hit her as she wrestled to shove him off. "Is it not true? When's the last time we even held hands. Can you remember?" Bradly's gaze turned stormy, like she'd struck a raw spot. "I bet you're hung up on Milford, just like that girl from the second branch. That's why you pulled away in front of him. You're trying to cut ties with me?" "Bradly! What the hell are you babbling about?" Anger surged through her as she pushed harder. "Don't you dare pin your gross history on me!" The way the family had orbited Milford like he was the sun had obviously gotten under his skin. The more she resisted, the darker his look grew. Abruptly, he leaned in and smashed his mouth against hers. Stella's eyes flew wide, her head whipping aside to evade as she hammered at his shoulders with everything she had. He'd locked lips with Shanna god knows how often. The thought turned her stomach, so she clamped down and bit him hard. Bradly yelped in pain, jerking back as the fog cleared and he clocked what he'd just done, regret flashing across his face. Blood dotted his lip, but he brushed it off, lunging to wrap her in his arms. "I'm sorry, Stella, baby, I'm so sorry. I screwed up; it was a stupid impulse..." Drained of energy, Stella sagged into the passenger seat, letting him hold her while a barren wave of emptiness and revulsion washed over her. The hug she'd once melted into now repulsed her to her core. "Get off me." Her voice came out rough and scratchy. "Bradly, don't push me to hating you."