Alexander Sterling set his phone down and began redialing Stella Dawson's number.

The monotonous failed-call tone echoed repeatedly in his office.

Half an hour passed. No matter which phone he used, her number remained unreachable.

Jack Holden stood quietly to the side, watching the calm fury building on Alexander's face. Any lingering drowsiness vanished from his mind.

Had Miss Dawson finally driven the boss completely insane?

Another thirty minutes slipped by, still without success. Not a single ring from her end.

Alexander cracked his wrist, determination unwavering as he continued his attempts.

As his assistant, Jack felt compelled to intervene. "Mr. Sterling, perhaps you should rest for a while. I can take over the calls."

"Fine. Keep trying. Notify me immediately if you get through."

Alexander didn't waste words. He stood and walked straight into the adjacent break room.

Jack stood there, stunned. A moment later, he let out a defeated sigh.

The middle of the night, and the boss actually went to rest. Left me here on redial duty.

Not even a "thank you" or a polite refusal.

Muttering under his breath, Jack sat down and began the tedious task of spamming the redial button.

Meanwhile, Alexander sat in the break room, wide awake.

He wasn't known for his patience. Quite the opposite-he was notoriously stubborn, especially when something got under his skin.

Even if he told himself Stella wasn't worth the effort, the inability to reach her tonight was pushing him toward madness.

If another half hour passes with no answer, I'm going to City University myself.

He needed to know exactly what-or who-was so important that she'd ignore his calls all night.

Maybe he'd catch her red-handed with whatever man she deemed worthy of ditching him for.

Half an hour later.

Still no luck. Jack was nearly face-planting on the desk from exhaustion.

Then-BANG! A loud noise jolted him awake.

He jumped up, eyes wide. "Mr. Sterling?!"

"Get the car. We're going to City U." The man's mood was pitch black.

He tossed a set of car keys toward Jack, grabbed a random phone, and stormed out of the office.

Watching the boss leave without even his coat, Jack sighed in resignation and shuffled after him with the keys.

'Maybe it's finally time to update my resume?

Seriously. Being a CEO's assistant wasn't just exhausting-it felt downright hazardous to one's health.'

The drive from Sterling Corp to City University wasn't short.

But traffic was minimal at that hour. Jack sped the entire way, racing toward the university gates.

Just then, Stella finally picked up.

"Hello? Who is this?" Her voice was soft, laced with sleep.

There was a lazy, tired drawl to her words.

"Stella..." Alexander practically growled through gritted teeth.

But before he could even finish her name, she hung up.

He hit redial. This time, the phone was off.

Then her text came through: "Persistent old fool. Get lost."

Alexander let out a low, bitter laugh.

Clutching the phone tightly, he chuckled darkly, the sound dripping with sarcasm and pent-up rage.

Even someone as typically detached and aloof as him completely lost his composure, firing off a string of furious messages to Stella.

"Stella Dawson, the divorce papers aren't finalized. You are still Mrs. Sterling."

"Grandpa expects us at the estate this weekend. He wants to see you, so you will comport yourself appropriately. If you make this easy, perhaps I'll allow you and your entourage to walk away unscathed. Otherwise, forget about receiving the divorce certificate."

"If I don't have your confirmation by tomorrow, I will personally shred the divorce agreement."

He dropped the phone, his face thunderous.

Jack Holden sat quietly in the driver's seat, not daring to breathe too loudly as he watched Alexander's grim reflection in the rearview mirror.

Finally, Jack clenched his jaw and ventured carefully, "Mr. Sterling, Miss Dawson is likely in her dormitory now..."

"If we attempt to enter the campus dormitories at this hour... wouldn't that cause a significant disturbance?"

What if someone called the campus police? That would be an absolute disaster.

As if on cue, a university security guard began approaching their vehicle.

The guard narrowed his eyes at the two men sitting in the car. "What's your business here, loitering like this?"

"I'm going to need to see some identification."

He'd seen his share of suspicious characters lurking around campus at night-usually up to no good.

Jack shot a nervous glance at Alexander. "Uh... you see-"

Was the boss really about to be escorted away like a common creep?

"Back to the office," Alexander said coldly.

Jack released a relieved breath, quickly explaining their situation to the guard before stepping on the accelerator and speeding away without a backward glance.

On the return journey, Jack lowered his voice and asked, "Mr. Sterling, if Miss Dawson calls again inquiring about the divorce certificate."

He didn't dare cross Stella-the way she'd spoken last time sent chills down his spine. She seemed capable of anything.

Alexander frowned, tapping his phone screen. "You are relieved of that duty."

"If she calls again, instruct her to come and make her request to me directly at the office."

Jack nodded rapidly, though internally he was grumbling.

His boss had truly lost his grip. Couldn't he see Stella's indifference was genuine?

She obviously never had any real feelings for him to begin with.

-

The next day.

Alexander waited the entire day, but still no word from Stella.

The phone number he'd used last night wasn't his primary one, so he'd had Jack procure a similar SIM card.

Still nothing.

-

The professor on stage droned on, delivering a monotonous PowerPoint lecture potent enough to sedate anyone.

Lucas Campbell was slouched at his desk, halfway to dreamland, his mind conjuring a certain captivating figure.

That face... stunning even beneath a plain hoodie and a pulled-down cap. Those endlessly long legs.

Stella Dawson-utterly occupying his thoughts.

"Lucas Campbell," the professor called out, her lips curved in a polite smile, but her tone as icy as a deep freeze.

No one dared make a sound. One of Lucas's friends elbowed him sharply.

Lucas jerked awake, blinking blearily to find every student in the lecture hall staring at him.

"Stella Dawson..." he mumbled, still half in his dream.

The room descended into dead silence-followed by scattered snickers.

The professor's smile vanished. She pointed to the door. "Get out."

"I just said her name and dozed off a little, what's the issue?" Lucas grumbled as he slouched out.

One of his buddies struggled not to laugh. "Bro, you've got it bad for Stella Dawson, huh?"

"Absolutely," Lucas admitted without hesitation. "She's fire. Who wouldn't be into that?"

He ambled out of the room, hands linked behind his head, looking utterly unbothered.

Classes weren't really his forte anyway, especially today's lineup-Advanced Mathematics and Corporate Finance? Hard pass. He couldn't stand that stuff. The Campbell family owned numerous companies, but he had zero interest in the inheritance.

What he truly desired? To be a legendary mercenary, dominating all challengers.

Just like in the adventure novels he devoured.

Lucas loitered in the hallway outside the classroom, which afforded him a clear view of Stella sitting in a neighboring lecture.

She was in the back row, twirling a pen between her fingers, gaze distant.

She looked completely disengaged-clearly zoning out.

Right on cue, the professor called on her to answer a question.

Lucas leaned forward, anticipating her being reprimanded, but instead, she offered a response that made the teacher nod, even smile, and gesture for her to sit down.

What the hell? She was actually paying attention?

Lucas was stunned, still watching her blank expression that somehow concealed a sharp intellect.

Finally, after a half-hour that felt interminable, the class ended.

Students began streaming out, hurrying to their next lectures. Stella gathered her belongings and prepared to leave.

Lucas quickly pushed through the crowd. "Hey, Miss Dawson."

She looked up slowly, waiting for him to state his business.

"Fate keeps bringing us together. How about we exchange numbers?" He flashed his phone with a confident grin.

Her laugh was sharp and dismissive. "Don't flatter yourself. Not a chance." She stood up without a second thought, slinging her backpack over one shoulder.

She had another class to get to, no time for nonsense.

"That's rather rude," Lucas followed her, whining. "Refusing my request is one thing, but must you insult me too?"

While he was attempting to nag her into compliance, someone hidden in a corner urgently made a phone call.

He was one of Evan Sterling's lackeys, tasked with keeping an eye on Stella.

"We have a situation-Campbell is making a move!" he whispered into the phone.

Evan's expression darkened the moment he heard.

That punk actually dared to hit on his sister-in-law?

Lucas Campbell, your time is up.

He was just around the corner from the classroom and stormed over with a couple of his guys in tow, looking like an approaching tempest.

Bystanders froze, alarmed. Who had provoked the young master now?

Lucas was shameless, continuing his pursuit even after repeated rejections. He stood his ground, acting as if obtaining her number was his divine right for the day.

He'd been a spoiled brat since childhood-this was his first time being so thoroughly curved.

When Stella still refused to budge, Lucas made a grab for her phone.

She frowned, her eyes turning cold, ready to physically remove him.

But before she could act, a foot shot out from behind Lucas and landed squarely on his backside.

"You've got to be kidding me, Lucas Campbell. Back off, you clown!"

A sudden, sharp kick sent Lucas Campbell stumbling forward-he nearly crashed face-first into the floor.

"What the hell was that?!" Lucas froze in place, utterly stunned.

He barely managed to catch himself by grabbing the edge of a nearby desk.

The remaining students who hadn't yet dispersed slowed their exit, casually observing the unfolding drama.

Lucas's face flushed crimson-a mix of pure rage and searing embarrassment. He shot to his feet, whirled around, and glared daggers at Evan Sterling. "Have you lost your mind?! You actually kicked me? Are you insane?!"

Fuming, he raised his fist and lunged at Evan, aiming straight for his face.

"Who I'm interested in is none of your damn business! Since when do I need your permission to pursue a girl?!"

Stella Dawson relaxed her stance slightly, her brows furrowing in bewilderment at the two men about to brawl directly in front of her.

...

"Our Megan will not be treated this way!"

Principal's Office. Megan Lindley's parents were causing an uproar.

Her finger had been treated and reset-it wasn't fully severed and was expected to heal in time. But her family was deeply dissatisfied with the school's handling of the incident. Merely giving Stella a standard disciplinary mark was utterly unacceptable to them.

The principal pressed his fingers against his temples, the noise giving him a splitting headache.

He frowned and stated, "Megan did initiate the verbal harassment and crossed a line with her remarks. She is not without fault in this matter. I cannot place the entirety of the blame on Stella Dawson."

They hadn't publicized Megan's role in the official notice, but that didn't absolve her of responsibility.

"Oh, come on! They were just words! It's not like the girl actually dropped dead because of them!" Megan's father shouted. "My daughter is the one with a broken finger! She plays the violin, for heaven's sake! What are we supposed to do now?!"

"If her future is ruined, is the school prepared to take responsibility?"

The principal knew exactly what they were after-compensation. Under the relentless pressure and shouting, he eventually capitulated.

The school paid out a settlement but imposed no further punishment on Stella.

Megan's parents left, still huffing with dissatisfaction.

But before the principal could catch his breath, another bombshell dropped-Lucas and Evan had gotten into a serious physical altercation over Stella at the Fine Arts building.

The two were notorious troublemakers, and no one had dared to intervene. The fight escalated, resulting in both being sent to the hospital. The principal was so stressed he felt he was losing hair by the minute.

Meanwhile, Stella was calmly having lunch in the cafeteria.

She had just picked a spot with her tray and was about to sit down when she found herself surrounded-by more than a dozen of Megan's relatives.

Megan's mother violently slapped the tray off the table.

"You shameless little witch! How dare you sit here and eat as if nothing happened?! Why don't you just go die?!"

"You can still hold chopsticks, can you?!" Megan's father bellowed. "But thanks to you, Megan can't even hold a violin bow anymore! She's twenty years old, and you've ruined her! How vicious can you be?!"

The relatives joined in, hurling foul insults without hesitation.

Most of the students in the cafeteria had grown curious and gathered around to watch.

Some frowned at the vulgar language from Megan's family, and a few considered intervening.

But the rumor about Stella breaking Megan's finger was still fresh, and many assumed she must have provoked it somehow.

Samantha Tate had been quietly spreading narratives about Stella's volatile nature, and those stories were beginning to take root.

No one stepped forward to defend Stella Dawson anymore.

Standing at the back of the crowd, Samantha Tate wore a smug expression, lifting her chin slightly. "Let's turn up the heat. Give the Lindleys a hand. Stella truly has no shame."

The girls around her immediately stepped forward, weaving through the crowd until they reached the front and began whispering pointedly.

"Megan is honestly such a sweetheart. She was always looking out for Stella-even fetched water for her sometimes."

"Right? Everyone in the dorm said they got along fine. Stella is just something else."

"Bet you didn't know this-Megan has a crush on Lindor Mitchell. Guess who else does? Stella. And she's convinced Lindor likes her back. So she just snapped. Went full psycho on Megan."

"Wow, that's some tea."

Their whispers weren't loud, but they were perfectly audible within the gathering crowd.

Feeling increasingly justified and emboldened, Megan's parents seemed to believe public opinion was shifting in their favor.

Mrs. Lindley stood with her hands on her hips, pointing directly at Stella. "I heard you're just some wild child with no parents! No wonder you turned out like this!"

"You owe us! Medical bills, emotional damages, and a formal apology-we want it all!"

"Pay up, or we're calling the police!"

"Every last penny-you will compensate us!"

Sitting calmly in her seat, Stella lifted her gaze. Her pale face was cold and detached-almost numb, like a shadow. She didn't utter a word.

The stark contrast between her composure and the family's hysteria tugged at the heartstrings of some onlookers... but the girl simply yawned, looking profoundly bored.

"Are you seriously pointing at me?" she finally spoke, her voice sharp with impatience. "Trying to end up in the hospital bed next to your daughter? A little mother-daughter bonding over shared injuries?"

Mrs. Lindley froze, her face twitching. She opened her mouth to yell again, but the way Stella looked at her-so chillingly composed-sent an involuntary shiver down her spine. Her hand dropped without conscious thought.

She moved her lips slightly but ultimately said nothing.

Somehow, the entire scene fell into an abrupt silence. Not a word from the crowd. Just... dead quiet.

"What's going on here?"

A security guard's voice cut through the strange hush. Quickly, he escorted the Lindley family out of the cafeteria.

Someone must have reported the disturbance to the school authorities.

Honestly, Stella almost wished Mrs. Lindley had been kicked hard enough to join her daughter in the hospital. They could have kept each other company while Megan's finger healed.

The students were instructed to disperse. As they drifted away, Stella glanced down at her spilled lunch, sighed, then trudged off to get a new meal, choosing a quieter spot this time.

No one approached her again.

Pulling out her phone, she sent a quick message: "Kevin, dig up everything you can find on Megan Lindley."

She wasn't one to take hits lying down. What the Lindleys had pulled today? She would ensure they paid for it-dearly.

-

At the Hospital.

Megan's parents came to visit her. She was lounging in bed, scrolling through videos on her phone, her hand essentially fine.

"That principal must have a screw loose," Mrs. Lindley scowled. "Just a demerit? That's it? The settlement doesn't even begin to cover the emotional distress. We'll go back again. If Stella refuses to pay, we'll drag this out indefinitely!"

A knock at the door cut short her tirade.

"Is Megan Lindley here?"

Hearing her name, she slowly looked up.

Emily Dawson stood in the doorway, holding a fruit basket, peering inside with a delicate, concerned expression.

Megan Lindley's eyes widened as she suddenly recognized Emily-the young lady of the Dawson family. She scrambled up and rushed to open the door. "Emily! What brings you here? Please, come in, have a seat."

"Mom, this is Emily Dawson, from the Dawson family," she said excitedly, glancing back at her mother.

The Dawsons were one of the capital's elite families, and as their heiress, Emily was undoubtedly a valuable connection.

Mr. and Mrs. Lindley quickly stood up with respectful smiles, ushering Emily inside.

Emily sat down with a gentle smile, inquiring warmly about Megan's condition. But when the topic shifted to Stella Dawson, her expression darkened. "Trying to reason with someone like her is a waste of breath. The most effective way is to deal with her privately-give her a taste of her own medicine."

"But the school has already handled it," Megan said, bitterness seeping into her tone. "They won't punish her further."

Emily shook her head. "Ugh. I have a class this afternoon, I should get going."

She stood, placed the fruit basket on the table beside Megan, and discreetly slipped a few hundred-dollar bills underneath it.

After Emily left, Megan sat still for a long moment, then touched her face as if a thought had just crystallized. "She's right."

"That bitch Stella is just a parentless stray! What are we even afraid of? She broke my finger-I should've broken every single one of hers! And that face of hers..."

"Let's see if she has anything left to seduce Lindor with then."

She let out a cold, ugly laugh, jealousy practically radiating from her.

...

Sterling Corporation.

Alexander Sterling was in a foul mood all day.

He'd presided over five consecutive meetings. Every member of upper management looked ready to collapse, the atmosphere in the room heavy and strained.

A few individuals made minor mistakes and were torn apart by him in front of everyone. No one dared make a sound.

Only when he finally adjourned the meetings did the executives breathe a collective sigh of relief and flee the room.

Alexander remained in his seat, motionless.

He pulled out his phone and unlocked the screen to check his messages-nothing but spam. No message from the one person he was hoping to hear from. Nothing from Stella.

Jack Holden stood quietly behind him, unsure how to position himself. His expression said it all.

Is Mr. Sterling finally losing his grip?

BANG! Alexander violently hurled his phone into the trash can.

The loud crash made Jack flinch, his face tightening with tension.

As long as that wasn't my phone, we're good...

Just then, a soft ringtone chimed from Alexander's other pocket-his personal phone.

He retrieved it, glanced at the screen, and answered with a frown.

"Mom, I'm in the middle of a meeting."

Jack closed his eyes in silent agony. The same excuse. Every. Single. Time.

Couldn't Mr. Sterling come up with a new line?

"Your grandfather is unwell," Mrs. Sterling stated.

Alexander paused. "What happened? How did-"

"It's because of you and Stella. He misses you both terribly."

"I-"

"No excuses. For your grandfather's health, you are both coming home this weekend, no matter what!"

Mrs. Sterling hung up before he could utter another word.

His chest rose with a sharp, frustrated breath. Rage burned in his eyes.

Stella hadn't replied at all. And now his mother had delivered an ultimatum.

He clenched his jaw, the words a low, determined growl. "Stella Dawson, just you wait. If I have to resort to kidnapping, I will drag you back myself."

Alexander Sterling finally gave up his campaign of incessantly calling Stella Dawson.

After taking two full days to cool off, he had just about managed to drag himself back to a semblance of rationality.

In nearly twenty-nine years of life, he had never lost control like that.

Once the mental fog cleared, he stopped all those childish antics. He wasn't about to sacrifice his dignity.

Instead of chasing after her again, he devised a new strategy-he would intercept her at City University over the weekend.

Three days flew by. The weekend arrived.

Stella left the dormitory and headed to a nearby shopping mall to pick up some clothes.

Most of her belongings were still at Alexander's villa, and she had absolutely no intention of returning there.

The few outfits she had grabbed in a hurry were no longer sufficient.

Dressed in comfortable casual wear, hands tucked into her hoodie's front pocket, she wandered through various stores.

She wasn't looking for designer labels, just some low-key brands that suited her style.

"Excuse me, could I get this dress in my size-" she began, looking up.

Before she could finish, a hand shoved itself rudely in front of her.

Her expression instantly darkened.

Turning her head, she saw a group of sleazy-looking men. They reeked of cigarette smoke and had that greasy, intrusive presence that made skin crawl.

"Hey there, gorgeous. With a body like that, why not show us a little more?" the one at the front leered, letting his eyes roam over her in the most vulgar way possible.

Stella cracked a wry smile and rolled her eyes. She wasn't about to waste her breath on this trash.

Let them take one step closer-she'd teach them a lesson they wouldn't forget.

But her disregard only emboldened them. They began to close in.

Her fingers curled into fists, ready to strike, when a sharp yell cut through the tension.

"Back off!" shouted Lindor Mitchell.

He limped in, supported by a cane, flanked by his usual entourage.

Seriously? Him again?

Stella tilted her head, unimpressed, as Lindor glared venomously at the men surrounding her.

The thugs backed off slightly, wary of the new numbers, but one still snapped, "Who the hell are you?"

"She was the one coming onto us, acting like she wanted to put on a show. What's it to you?"

"Bullshit," Lindor snorted. "I've got first dibs on teaching her a lesson. Mind your own damn business."

He turned toward Stella, eyebrows raised, his face contorted into something uglier than mere anger.

But even with all his bluster, his injured leg had him wobbling precariously, looking utterly ridiculous.

That didn't stop him from trying to throw his weight around.

One of his lackeys held up a phone, already recording. This was supposed to be 'evidence' for Catherine Campbell.

Another guy cracked his knuckles, visibly excited. "Boss, where should we start-her face?"

The moment the words left his mouth, Stella's icy stare sliced into him.

That stunning face of hers suddenly seemed as sharp as broken glass.

"Uh." The guy flinched, swallowing hard. "Boss, maybe not the face?"

She was too beautiful; hitting her there felt instinctively wrong.

"Oh, cut the crap!" Lindor growled. "Are you hitting her or not? Mess up her damn face!"

He shot a glare at the one with the phone. "And make sure you get a good angle, or I'll beat you to a pulp instead."

"Y-yes, Boss."

The guy in front puffed out his chest, stepped toward Stella, pulled back his fist, and prepared to throw the first punch.

Those thugs suddenly moved to block the way. "Hey, we saw her first."

"Don't you know how to wait your turn?" Their leader shoved one of his own men forward.

Lindor Mitchell flared up instantly. "Like hell! Who do you think you are, trying to cut in?"

If he let them strike first, the video wouldn't make him look like the hero.

"You didn't even say who you are!" one of the thugs spat back angrily.

"Damn, check the attitude! Let's teach this punk a lesson!"

In no time, both sides were brawling in the middle of the clothing store.

Stella Dawson stood off to the side, arms crossed, casually observing the chaos unfold.

They fought fiercely enough to scare off all the other customers.

The store manager quietly called the police, not daring to intervene before they arrived.

Fifteen minutes later, Lindor and his crew emerged victorious.

He'd brought a whole entourage-six or seven men-initially just to corner Stella, which gave them the numbers advantage.

No matter how tough the other group was, they couldn't overcome being outnumbered. They eventually retreated, cursing under their breath.

"You, come here and give me a kiss," Lindor smirked at Stella.

She shot him a look of profound boredom and didn't move an inch.

Seeing her remain unfazed, Lindor lost patience. Leaning heavily on his cane, he hobbled over, reaching out roughly. "Don't make me get physical with you-"

Just then, he heard a cold chuckle. Immediately after, a sharp pain erupted in his side.

Stella had delivered a swift kick. Though not as fierce as last time, it still hurt like hell. His face contorted in pain as he hit the floor.

"You bitch!" he yelled.

"Don't you have anything better to do than harass a young woman?" a calm, authoritative voice inquired.

Lindor flinched, his expression freezing solid.

He looked up and saw Gabriel Mitchell glaring down at him. That icy stare sent chills down his spine.

Gabriel stood tall, positioning himself like a protective wall between Stella and Lindor. Dressed in a dark, impeccably tailored suit, with sharp features and an air of cool authority, he bore a faint resemblance to Alexander Sterling.

The man was exceptionally handsome. With his stern, unsmiling expression, he looked even more striking.

Stella took a subtle step back. Yes, she remembered who he was now.

The Mitchell family's eldest son, the heir to the family empire-and Lindor's older cousin.

Lindor might throw his weight around outside, bragging about being a Mitchell, but in front of his cousin, he was always put in his place.

"C-Cousin." Lindor stammered as he awkwardly climbed to his feet, visibly shrinking under Gabriel's gaze.

Gabriel's expression didn't flicker. "It seems we've been giving you too much allowance. Enough free time to bully young women now?"

"It's not like that, Cousin! She messed with Catherine first!"

In a panic, Lindor immediately tried to shift the blame onto Stella.

She stared at him, utterly incredulous.

She'd assumed he was defending Megan Lindley all along. Turns out, it was Catherine Campbell he had a crush on.

The problem was, Stella didn't even recall interacting with Catherine藩 let alone having any conflict with her.

"What on earth are you talking about? I don't even know her."

Lindor glared at her, sulking. "I just don't like your face. Is that a crime?"

"And you think I care about your opinion?" Stella scoffed. "You think you're so important that I need your approval?"

"I'm a Mitchell-"

"Shut up." Gabriel's voice was low, laced with unmistakable warning. He frowned at Lindor, cutting him off. "Apologize."

"I. Cousin." Lindor blinked, completely stunned.

An apology? To Stella? His pride wouldn't survive it.

"You don't want to apologize?" Gabriel Mitchell's tone held a clear warning. "Fine. Then consider your credit cards frozen."

Lindor Mitchell's bravado completely deflated. He stared at the floor, utterly crushed.

He mumbled toward Stella, the words clearly forced, "Sorry. I was wrong."

If the Mitchell family cut off his funds, he'd struggle to cover basic expenses. And he had already planned to buy Catherine Campbell a gift next month.

Gabriel didn't bother acknowledging his apology. He turned to Stella. "Are you alright?"

She blinked, slightly taken aback by the question.

"I'm fine," she replied with a small, wary nod. "You showed up just in time."

But she had no idea why he was here, or why he was intervening for her. They'd never spoken before. Yet, he was being. oddly courteous.

"Although," her tone sharpened slightly, "you might want to keep a closer eye on your cousin. He's running around like a rabid dog, biting people at random."

She gave him a sweet, sarcastic smile and a half-shrug.

Lindor shot her a murderous glare.

"A fair point," Gabriel replied, surprisingly agreeable.

His eyes scanned the mess of clothes scattered across the floor, his expression completely unbothered.

"I'll take everything in the store. Set aside anything that's soiled." He waved a hand casually. "Pick out a few suitable pieces for the young lady to take with her."

Stella's eyebrows shot up. "Are you. serious?"

"My cousin caused this disruption. Rectifying it is my responsibility," he stated coolly. "Consider it a gift. An apology, perhaps."

Stella didn't respond immediately. Her brows knitted slightly, clearly uncertain how to process this.

Gabriel didn't seem to mind her silence. He extended his hand. "Gabriel Mitchell. A pleasure to meet you."

The shop assistants stole glances. One couldn't hide her admiration when looking at Stella-rich, handsome, and polite? What kind of luck was that?

Stella remained motionless for a moment, but Gabriel maintained his composure. He smoothly retrieved a business card from his pocket and slipped it into her hand.

"I hope we have the opportunity to become better acquainted."

"Cousin, what are you doing?" Lindor snapped from behind, looking furious.

Gabriel tossed him an icy glance. "Why are you still here?"

Lindor shut his mouth instantly, sulking in resentful silence.

"Sir," the store manager hurried over, "this is a substantial order. It might be difficult for the young lady to carry everything herself."

"That's not a problem. Can you arrange delivery to her university?"

"Of course."

"Excellent. Then." Gabriel glanced at Stella, "which dormitory?"

She didn't answer, simply watching him quietly.

"Consider it our family's apology."

"Cousin!" Lindor looked like he was about to explode again.

"Fine. Deliver it to the City University women's dormitory," Stella said suddenly, a slight smile touching her lips as she addressed Gabriel directly.

The store manager quickly noted down the address and began organizing staff to pack everything up.

Gabriel casually handed over his card to pay, completely unfazed.

Then he pulled out his phone. "Shall we exchange contact information?"

They looked at each other, neither speaking for a moment.

Eventually, Stella scratched her chin, seemingly hesitant, then slowly retrieved her phone.

"Gabriel," a sharp, clear voice called from the store entrance.

Stella instinctively turned toward the sound, spotting Catherine Campbell, who had just walked in from who-knows-where.