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.

Catherine Campbell stood frozen in the doorway, her expression a mixture of confusion and disbelief.

She had been standing there for quite some time. Lindor Mitchell had called her, boasting that he was going to teach Stella Dawson a lesson and casually inviting her to watch.

Trying to maintain her composure, she hadn't agreed immediately, instead instructing Lindor to send her a video.

He had agreed, but after a long wait, no video had arrived.

Meanwhile, Stella squinted slightly, pulled out her phone, and without a word, sent a friend request to Gabriel Mitchell.

She hadn't planned on provoking Catherine, but that girl had despised her from their very first encounter-completely without reason.

And now she was dragging a fool like Lindor into harassing her? Seriously?

The Campbells and the Mitchells had an old betrothal agreement between their families. Catherine was the only daughter of the Campbell family.

The Mitchells weren't nearly as influential-it didn't matter how many sons they had. Gabriel was the only suitable candidate to marry Catherine.

Neither family had formally announced the engagement, but if they showed mutual interest, things could proceed smoothly.

Lindor knew the Campbells favored Gabriel, yet he still trailed after Catherine like a loyal puppy, treating her like royalty. Even Stella was somewhat impressed by his sheer persistence.

Gabriel walked past Catherine without so much as a glance. "Let's go."

The command was clearly directed at Stella, who smirked slightly and followed him out.

Catherine remained rooted to the spot, her face dark, refusing to chase after them.

She bit her lip, her eyes filled with bitter resentment.

She didn't even like Gabriel that much. If she had, they would have been engaged by now.

That outdated agreement only held weight if both parties were willing.

Seeing her distress, Lindor rushed over, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste.

"Catherine, why did you come alone?"

He offered a nervous, placating smile. "Don't be angry. My brother won't protect her forever. Next time, when we're alone, I'll-"

"Were you the one causing a disturbance earlier?"

A stern voice cut him off, and Lindor instinctively turned his head-only to find several police officers glaring at him.

What the hell? Who called the cops?

Reluctantly, he was taken away to give a statement at the station.

The thugs who had been stirring up trouble were also rounded up.

As the identified victim, Stella had to go to the station as well.

Watching her get into the police car, Catherine finally emerged and approached Gabriel.

"Do you even know what kind of person she is?" she sneered. "A country girl? And this is what catches your eye?"

"Perhaps I really need to reconsider whether this engagement is worthwhile."

"Gabriel, your taste is truly disappointing."

As the only daughter of the Campbells, Catherine had been pampered her entire life, so her prideful demeanor came as no surprise.

She was certain Gabriel wouldn't dare offend her family over some rural girl.

But Gabriel merely glanced at her calmly, then curled his lips into a dismissive smirk.

"The thing is, a marriage isn't decided by your family alone." His tone was lightly mocking. "Catherine, do you realize you're not even in her league?"

"What?" Catherine froze, fury quickly bubbling up beneath her shock. "Have you lost your mind?"

Gabriel, using Stella to insult her?

He simply shrugged as if it were nothing. "You're not on the same level. Not even close."

With that, he turned and walked away without the slightest hesitation, leaving only the faint smell of car exhaust behind.

Catherine's composure shattered on the spot. She stood motionless, utterly stunned.

She had been accustomed to compliments her whole life-people always told her she was intelligent and beautiful, and she was immensely popular at university too.

But this was the first time reality had slapped her so hard-and it was Gabriel Mitchell delivering the blow.

Stella Dawson!

This was all her fault! That detestable witch!

...

Outside the gates of City University, the Rolls-Royce attracted numerous curious glances.

Inside the car, Alexander Sterling sat quietly in the back seat, his expression unreadable.

Jack Holden had just returned from making inquiries and provided a quick update. "Sir, it's the weekend. Most students aren't on campus."

"I asked around, and Miss Dawson isn't here today."

Alexander leaned back, his long legs elegantly crossed, his face still a mask of stone.

"Also." Jack hesitated before adding, "She doesn't seem particularly well-liked here. I approached several students, but they either ignored me or outright refused to speak when they heard her name."

Alexander's lips curled into a mocking smirk, clearly picturing Stella's typically arrogant demeanor.

"A girl like her having friends? That would be the real surprise."

Honestly, given the way she spoke, it was no wonder nobody could stand her.

"So. should we wait and try again later?" Jack didn't sound very confident.

Alexander paused for a moment-he had received explicit instructions from the family that she was expected at the Sterling estate tonight. He thought arriving early might help, but she wasn't even at the university.

"Send people to locate her. I want her here within an hour," he said coldly.

Jack nodded with a resigned sigh and went to make calls to mobilize more people for the search.

Ever since Alexander and Stella had begun their divorce proceedings, the situation between them had only grown more tangled.

Still seated in the car, Alexander absently scrolled through his phone.

A few notifications from a group chat popped up. When he opened it, he saw it was their usual male social group.

Ethan Mitchell had posted a series of photos of a woman.

"Who is this? She's absolutely stunning."

"That's Stella Dawson-Alexander's ex. Don't tell me you didn't recognize her?" Ethan added a smug emoji.

Alexander froze, then quickly opened the photo album.

There were over a dozen pictures, all taken from discreet angles-clearly covert shots of Gabriel Mitchell and Stella together.

One photo made it look like Gabriel was handing her a business card, but from Ethan's camera angle, it appeared more like he was holding her hand.

They looked uncomfortably intimate, and that alone made Alexander scowl.

When had she started associating with Gabriel? Exchanging contact information, even touching hands?

Unbelievable.

That woman was always out there, flirting and causing trouble.

As expected, after Ethan dropped that bombshell, the group chat exploded.

"Damn, Alex, never thought I'd see the day!"

"Look at their hands! Bro, you need to step up your game!"

"Are you all blind? That's his ex-wife-key word being 'ex'?"

"Ohhh, so they're divorced?"

"Guess that means I've got a shot now, huh?"

His expression darkening by the second, Alexander didn't bother with a lengthy reply. He simply typed one word: Get lost.

The message sent. The chat fell silent for a solid few seconds-then erupted again.

"Dude, you're lurking and still won't explain anything about your ex?"

Ignoring them, Alexander switched to a private message with Ethan: "Where is she right now?"

Ethan replied immediately: "Why? She's your ex, remember?"

"So you're still hung up on her, huh?" Ethan Mitchell couldn't resist teasing.

Alexander Sterling let out a cold scoff. "Remarried."

The group chat went completely silent.

"Whatever," Ethan said, clearly giving up. "She had a confrontation with Lindor Mitchell at the City University mall."

"Gabriel Mitchell happened upon them. She's probably at the police station now."

"You'd better go smooth things over with your wife, before she runs off with Gabriel and leaves you for good."

Alexander rubbed his temples, sighed, and set down his phone. "To the station."

Ten minutes later, his car pulled up outside the police station.

Stella Dawson had just finished giving her statement. A few thugs sat nearby, battered and bruised.

Lindor Mitchell was muttering under his breath, clearly displeased with the entire situation.

One of the thugs, his face swollen, still had the audacity to lean closer to Stella with a sleazy grin. "Hey beautiful, you're actually really pretty. Wanna go out sometime? I'll take good care of you."

A nearby officer shot him a warning glare, about to tell him to shut up.

Just then, a loud thud echoed from the entrance. A foot shot out, striking the nearest thug and sending him sprawling onto his back with a pained groan.

Stella blinked, completely taken aback. Before she could process what was happening, a hand grabbed her and pulled her outside.

Inside, Jack Holden froze, left to deal with the aftermath.

"He slipped and fell, I assure you. We abide by the law here!" he said awkwardly.

One of the men sat clutching his backside, shooting venomous glares.

Yeah, right. Who would believe that?

"Mr. Sterling, we're still at a police station. Try to act like it," Stella said coolly, yanking her arm back.

Her wrist was now visibly red where Alexander had gripped her.

She narrowed her eyes, clearly irritated. He, however, was suddenly staring at her skin as if he'd forgotten their surroundings.

So pale. So delicate. The slightest pressure left a mark.

Stella rolled her eyes dramatically. That finally snapped him out of it, though only a flicker of embarrassment crossed his face. Why is he thinking about that now?

Stella turned on her heel and walked toward the exit. Alexander followed without hesitation.

"Hey," she looked back abruptly. "Dear ex-husband, could you stop stalking me?"

Her eyes sparkled with amusement, as if she were enjoying toying with him.

Her voice was light and teasing, floating like a feather and landing directly on his chest with a faint, unsettling tickle.

Ever since obtaining the divorce certificate, she had stopped caring about his opinions. It felt liberating.

Alexander's mind stuttered to a halt. His eyes clouded with something-confusion?

He took a step back, his gaze sweeping over her slowly, as if trying to solve a complex puzzle.

Then, suddenly, he reached out to grasp her chin.

As if he needed to verify she was real.

"Alexander Sterling!" she shrieked, stepping back. "What's wrong with you?!"

He stared, looking slightly dazed. "Are you really Stella Dawson?"

"I'm your damn mother," she retorted with a cold snort.

He said nothing, which actually caught her off guard-no shouting, no anger.

"Come with me back to the Sterling estate. Grandfather wants to see you," he stated plainly.

"We're divorced. You have no right to order me around."

"Oh?" Alexander let out a low laugh, stepped forward, and clamped a hand firmly on her shoulder.

His face was calm, but his gaze held a sharp, assessing edge, as if he were scrutinizing her.

"Stella Dawson..."

"Don't forget, I'm the one holding the divorce certificate." His voice was low and deliberately casual.

"You tore up the agreement yourself, remember? You're the only one without a copy. Do you really think that's enough to finalize the divorce?"

Alexander Sterling gave her a devilishly handsome but utterly smug smile.

He radiated that signature shameless confidence, as if he could convince gravity to reverse itself.

Stella Dawson shot him a sharp glance, the corner of her mouth twitching. She pushed him away, her face showing clear irritation. "Step back and speak properly. You're invading my personal space."

Alexander paused, caught off guard by her reaction.

This wasn't unfolding as he'd anticipated.

Wasn't she supposed to panic and beg him not to make trouble?

"Mr. Sterling, have you ever heard of integrity? You were the one who wanted the divorce," her tone was deceptively polite, but the words cut deep. "Now you're withholding the certificate? Do you take me for a fool?"

"So what if I am?" he retorted, his skin apparently thicker than the car's armor plating.

He raised an eyebrow, fully committed to his plan of using the divorce certificate as leverage.

Stella stared directly at him, her expression unreadable. Her eyes were calm and dark, like still water.

But let's be honest-mentally, she'd already cursed him out a hundred times over, roasting eight generations of his ancestors.

She was one step away from punching him straight into the ICU.

Alexander seemed to sense her hidden fury, but instead of backing down, he looked even more self-satisfied.

Hands casually tucked into his pockets, he loomed before her, as if he had all the time in the world to observe this thoroughly annoyed woman.

He used to find her irritating-too clingy, too naive.

But now?

She was sharp, fiery, nothing like the fragile doll he remembered.

So what did all her past efforts mean? Was marrying him just a strategic move? A setup for her escape?

A means to flee a marriage she never wanted from the beginning?

A brief flicker of confusion crossed his mind, but he quickly dismissed it.

No. Impossible.

He was Alexander Sterling-CEO of Sterling Group, heir to the Sterling dynasty, objectively handsome by any standard.

Sure, maybe not in his early twenties anymore, but he hadn't even hit thirty.

He frowned. "Wait, you're only twenty?"

"Are you mentally alright?" Stella fired back instantly. "Getting forgetful in your old age, grandpa?"

She had just turned twenty, the legal age to marry him.

Then, just three months later? Divorce, full speed ahead.

Either being CEO for too long had fried his brain, or he was developing early-onset dementia.

"Get in the car," Alexander snapped, not wanting to prolong this debate.

"Not happening-hey!"

He yanked her forward before she could finish, shoving her into the back seat like a piece of luggage.

Jerk.

"Hands off!" she yelled, thoroughly fed up.

His hand was still resting on her waist, uncomfortably close. The contact sent an involuntary jolt through her, and she immediately swatted him away.

For a split second, Alexander thought she was going to knock him flat on his back.

The force with which she shoved him screamed one message: do not touch me.

He disliked using force, so he released her, shut the door, and climbed into the passenger seat.

Jack Holden sat silently in the driver's seat, trying to become one with the upholstery.

He wasn't paid enough to get involved in their domestic disputes, so he simply focused on driving toward the Sterling estate.

Stella glared out the window, taking a deep breath to recompose herself. The tension in her face gradually eased, and she turned her head slightly. Her tone was icy. "I accompany you, and then you'll give me the certificate?"

"That depends on my mood."

"Then the answer is no," she stated flatly.

Alexander let out a cold laugh. "At least coming with me gives you a chance. Refuse, and you can forget about it entirely."

She narrowed her eyes. "So what, are you planning to keep me as your pet for life?"

"I'll toss you 250 bucks a month, keep you around for fifty years. Sounds reasonable, doesn't it?" His sarcasm was cutting. "Of course, you'll need to live that long, so I can 'waste' more money on you."

He wasn't one for prolonged arguments, but that didn't mean he couldn't deliver a sharp retort when needed.

Stella rolled her eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn't get stuck, then turned toward the front. "Jack, take me back to the university. I need to pick up a gift for Mr. Sterling."

Jack sneaked a glance at Alexander Sterling, only daring to change lanes after receiving a subtle nod of permission.

Meanwhile, Stella Dawson had already slumped against the seat, eyes closed, feigning sleep.

Alexander let out a soft, almost imperceptible chuckle.

Yeah, maybe to keep up with her sharp tongue, he really did need to hone his own comebacks.

The car pulled up in front of City University shortly after. Stella threw open the door and took off at a brisk pace.

Alexander reacted instantly, following closely behind.

"Why are you tailing me?" she shot him a look dripping with disdain.

"If I don't, what's to stop you from making a run for it?" he replied lazily, not missing a beat.

Left with no choice, she slowed her pace, visibly annoyed, but unable to shake him off.

On their way in, several students attempted to approach Alexander, only to be met with his signature icy glare.

Such a poser.

Stella rolled her eyes internally.

When they reached the dormitory entrance, Samantha Tate happened to be walking out with a group of friends, deeply engrossed in conversation about the eligible sons of the city's top families.

"Have you all heard of the Sterling heir? We're actually quite close," Samantha declared, showing off.

Still simmering with irritation, Stella couldn't resist scoffing, "Oh, you know Alexander Sterling?"

The sharp, skeptical tone made Samantha freeze immediately and turn to look.

She glared at Stella with utter disgust. "Don't you dare soil his name with your filthy mouth."

"What, is Alexander Sterling some kind of deity now? Can't even speak his name aloud?" Stella muttered, rolling her eyes again.

Alexander raised an eyebrow at her muttered commentary but remained silent.

"You're utterly despicable!" Samantha snapped. "Aren't you afraid I'll tell him what you said?"

"So what if I insult him? You think he'd believe you? What, is he your boyfriend or something?" Stella retorted coolly, clearly deriving amusement from the situation.

Samantha's face flushed red. She quickly switched tactics. "So... you've already heard he's interested in me?"

That gave Stella pause. Her eyes widened for a fraction of a second before a smirk played on her lips.

"My apologies, Mrs. Sterling," she said with heavy sarcasm, emphasizing each word while struggling to contain a broader smile.

"Scared now, are you?" Samantha looked immensely pleased with herself. "I thought you had more backbone."

One of the girls beside Samantha tugged at her sleeve. "Sam, is it really true? He's pursuing you?"

"Of course it is," Samantha lied without a hint of hesitation.

Who would dare verify such a claim directly with Alexander Sterling himself? It was the perfect lie to bolster her social status.

"Wow! How did you two meet?"

"My family has connections with the Sterlings. I met him during a visit. We hit it off immediately," Samantha gushed, clearly basking in the attention. "He's not just incredibly handsome, he's also super considerate and sweet..."

The girls surrounding her were practically drooling with envy.

"Sam, you must feel so blessed."

"I'm seriously jealous!"

"I mean, Sam is from the Tate family-a perfect match for Alexander."

While they were lost in her fabricated fairy tale, Alexander looked as though he wished the ground would swallow him whole.

Sure, he could admit he was decent-looking, but he had absolutely zero recollection of this girl.

And considerate? Sweet? According to whom?

Jack, who had arrived a moment later, caught only the tail end of their conversation.

He stared at the group, utterly baffled. "Wait, are you all talking about Mr. Sterling?"

He seriously doubted it. Knowing the boss's generally irritable disposition, the fact that he didn't routinely send women running for the hills was a miracle in itself.

"Obviously, we're talking about the Sterling heir and CEO," Samantha scoffed. "Who else? Evan or Liam Sterling? Please, as if I'd even glance in their direction."

Jack's mouth twitched at the corner, but he held his tongue.

"Look, he's so hot..."

"Wait, did he just arrive with Stella? Are they together?"

Just like that, the girls' attention snapped back to Alexander.

Samantha Tate instinctively turned her head-and froze completely on the spot.