Stella Dawson nearly choked on her drink, her face contorting in revulsion as she forcefully shoved the greasy hand away.

But the balding, heavyset man wasn't deterred. His thick gold chain swung as he shamelessly tried to close the distance, crowding her space.

"Hey there, gorgeous, sitting all by yourself? How about we exchange numbers?"

He waved his phone in front of her, the QR code glaring brightly.

Just as that pudgy hand reached for her again, Kevin Porter shot up and stormed over, planting himself as a barrier. "Hey! Back off! Got no manners?"

"What's it to you? Mind your own business." The man gave Kevin a rough shove.

Stella rolled her eyes and pinned him with a death glare. "You're the one who needs to leave."

"Oho, feisty, are we?" He leered at her, his eyes dripping with sleazy appreciation.

A pretty face, a killer figure, a voice like honey-she was exactly his type. Even her sharp tongue just made her a spicier conquest in his eyes.

"C'mon, give us a kiss." He puckered his lips grotesquely and leaned in. "I love a girl with some fire."

She suppressed a wave of nausea, then brought her stiletto heel down hard on his shin.

At first, he seemed amused, thinking it was part of the game.

But the moment the pain registered, his legs buckled. He crumpled to the floor like a sack of potatoes, howling.

"Damn bitch!" He curled into a ball, face contorted in agony. "Ahhh, my leg!"

"Boss!" Several of his lackeys glowered at Stella, pure rage in their eyes. "You're gonna pay for that!"

One of them snatched a bottle from a nearby table and hurled it directly at her.

They'd just been shown up by a woman, and their pride couldn't take it.

Stella let out a derisive laugh, raised her leg again, and kicked the incoming thugs aside as if swatting away flies.

The men hit the ground, clutching their injuries and whimpering. Meanwhile, Stella calmly lifted her glass and gave it a little shake toward Rex Turner. "Don't let the trash kill the vibe. My glass is empty."

She was radiant, utterly unbothered. Rex's cheeks flushed as he scrambled for a bottle, pouring the clear liquid with slightly trembling hands.

"Mr. Sterling! Please, let me explain! It's a misunderstanding!"

A panicked voice echoed from the upper floor.

Alexander Sterling descended the stairs with thunderous steps, his face a mask of icy fury, completely ignoring the pleading man trailing behind him.

He looked ready to detonate.

Stella, mid-laugh with Rex, glanced up at the commotion-and her eyes collided with his glacial stare.

Her heart stuttered. Crap. What is HE doing here?!

"Kevin! Kevin!"

"What's up, Stella? Need a refill?"

"No, look! Up there! Tell me that's not Alexander."

Kevin followed her gaze and paled.

"Oh, shit. It is him." His hand gripped the back of the sofa for support.

Stella clenched her fists, momentarily speechless.

Up on the landing, Alexander's lips curved into a smile-cold and razor-sharp. Fire smoldered in his eyes.

Marvelous. This woman has some nerve.

The former Mrs. Sterling, cozying up with pretty boys in a dive bar?

Even if he despised her, even if they were legally divorced-witnessing this felt like a direct, public slap in the face.

He glared at her as if she had committed an unforgivable transgression.

Stella instinctively tried to make herself smaller as he began his approach. She quickly yanked Kevin closer.

Kevin, bewildered but compliant, leaned into the act.

By the time Alexander reached them, Stella had thrown an arm around each man-one around Kevin, the other around Rex.

What the hell?! How dare she flaunt this in front of him?!

Just because he'd ended it, she'd completely lost her mind?

Alexander glared, his jaw so tight it looked ready to crack. "What is the meaning of this?"

Her makeup was flawless-dramatic and sharp-and her short dress left little to the imagination, showcasing those long, slender legs.

Stella Dawson looked like she owned the place, dressed to seduce and seemingly here to curate her own personal harem.

"Isn't it obvious?" Stella said with feigned nonchalance, "I'm appreciating the local scenery."

Alexander Sterling's face darkened further. Jack Holden, standing behind him, stayed silent as a ghost.

The boss was clearly livid, probably unable to believe Ms. Dawson would go this far. Was she deliberately trying to provoke him?

Kevin Porter caught the vibe instantly. He gulped, then dramatically leaned into Stella with a pout. "Sis, are these the new recruits for tonight? You've already got me and Rex wrapped around your finger, and you're still shopping?"

"You're insatiable. One on each arm, and still your eyes wander? Gotta catch 'em all, is that it?"

Stella didn't need to say a word; her eyes gave the instruction. Kevin, a natural accomplice, played his part perfectly.

He gave her a look of mock heartbreak. She patted his head indulgently, clearly pleased-this was her wingman.

As for Alexander? He could choke on his outrage.

She swirled the wine glass lazily, took a delicate sip, and met Alexander's furious gaze head-on.

Tilting her chin defiantly, she tossed out, "Nah, he looks too high-maintenance. Probably costs a fortune. I'm fresh out of alimony."

"What? So we're not good enough for you now?" Kevin fake-sobbed into her shoulder.

Male escorts these days really committed to the bit, didn't they?

Jack Holden's mouth twitched, but he bit back any comment.

"My mistake, boys. You're both delightful. Now, who's ready for another round?"

"Whoever makes me laugh hardest tonight gets a private audience."

She hugged both men like a queen holding court, fully aware she was poking the bear, and enjoying every second of it.

"Stella Dawson!" Alexander's roar cut through the bar's din, making her blink slowly, deliberately.

"No need to yell, Mr. Sterling. We have ears."

"What, offended I called him 'high-end'? Fine, he's bargain bin. Happy?" she taunted.

He looked like a volcano on the verge of eruption. "Explain yourself. Who are these men?"

Stella didn't answer. A subtle glance at Kevin was all the cue he needed.

"Oh, we're her paid entertainment," Kevin replied with faux innocence. "Isn't it obvious?"

He pointed at Rex Turner, then at himself. "She fancied the new guy tonight. I'm part of the permanent collection."

Finally, Jack broke his silence. "And what, precisely, does 'entertainment' entail?"

He had a general idea, but part of him still refused to accept the reality.

"Are you for real?" Kevin shot back. "What rock did you crawl out from under? What do you think we do here?"

Jack's lips twitched again, but he swallowed the retort. Arguing with an escort was beneath him.

"You got a divorce just to debase yourself like this?" Alexander's voice was pure ice, his eyes drilling into her. "Have you no shame left?"

Was this ridiculous woman genuinely trying to make him regret the divorce?

Even Jack couldn't meet his eyes, but Stella held his gaze defiantly.

"That's a bit rich, coming from you," she said, her smile saccharine. "If I recall correctly, you're the one who filed the papers."

"So?" His eyes narrowed dangerously.

"So, it means you forfeited any right to an opinion."

Stella smiled like the sun, raised her glass high, and suddenly flung the contents straight at his chest. The dark liquid soaked into his pristine white shirt and suit jacket like a stain of contempt.

"Even if I decide to sample every man in this city, it is none of your damn business!"

A few stray drops splattered onto his cheek. He looked utterly, profoundly enraged.

"Mr. Sterling!" Jack panicked, fumbling for tissues with shaky hands.

He rushed forward, but a new figure materialized at the top of the stairs.

A playful, melodic voice followed: "My, my, what's all the excitement down here? The former Mrs. Sterling certainly knows how to liven up a party!"

The man commanded attention, his tall frame radiating an aura of authority. His features were sharply defined, cool and composed, placing him roughly in Alexander Sterling's league.

"Mr. Mitchell..." the assistant trailing Alexander began, keeping his gaze lowered.

"Get the title right," Stella Dawson cut him off with a sharp sideways glance. "It's Miss Dawson now. Not Mrs. Sterling. Show some basic respect, why don't you?"

She let the empty glass drop to the floor with a definitive clatter, her expression going blank. "Whatever. I'm done here."

As Stella turned to leave, her steps slightly unsteady, she waved a dismissive hand. Kevin Porter fell into step immediately. "You got it, boss."

He took a few steps, then turned back to haul a dazed Rex Turner up by the arm.

"Snap out of it, man," Kevin teased, grinning. "Weren't you listening? Stella said both of us."

"Oh, right... yeah..." Rex stumbled after them in a fluster.

Stella let out a quiet sigh but didn't look back. She didn't bother correcting Kevin's fabricated narrative, letting it stand.

Frankly, her reputation wasn't worth protecting anymore.

The trio soon vanished from view.

Ethan Mitchell watched them go, a smirk playing on his lips as he turned to Alexander. "So, you're just letting your ex-wife stroll off into the sunset with her entourage?"

"That's the 'empty-headed' girl you used to complain about? She seems plenty sharp to me."

"We are divorced," Alexander bit out, his voice clipped.

He wiped the residual liquor from his face with a tissue, a quiet, bitter laugh escaping him.

He had seriously underestimated Stella, genuinely believing her to be a vapid mess.

Ethan raised his brows, clearly surprised. "You finalized it already?"

"Obviously," Alexander replied, lifting his chin defiantly.

"Didn't her grandfather pass just a few months back? And you cast aside the girl he practically gifted-wrapped for you? That's... cold, man," Ethan remarked casually.

"You want to know why?" Alexander growled. "She stormed into my office, hijacked my computer, and emailed the entire company ranting about how I... ugh, never mind!"

Ethan barely managed to stifle a snort.

He clapped a hand on Alexander's shoulder, feigning sympathy. "Okay, yeah. That's pretty brutal."

"Hey, no joke though... are you, uh... functioning alright down there?" he continued, leaning in with mock concern. "I know some specialists. Five grand a session, but for you, I'll call in a favor."

Alexander shoved his hand away with a scowl. "Piss off!"

...

"Kevin, go get me some ice cream. It's sweltering."

Stella slumped back in her chair, her tone lazily authoritative.

After leaving the Moonlight Club, she had brought Kevin and Rex to a nearby café.

The heat was oppressive. Even though night had fallen, the pavement still radiated a residual oven-like warmth.

Kevin nodded and started to rise, but Rex was quicker.

"I-I'll go," Rex muttered, glancing uncertainly at Stella. "My treat."

"Alright then, thanks." She gave a small, appreciative wink and a warm smile.

Bolstered, Rex hurried to the counter and quietly placed their order.

"Damn, Stella, that face of yours is a lethal weapon," Kevin joked, grinning. "No man is safe."

Seriously, with her looks, someone ten times more accomplished than Alexander still wouldn't be enough for her. That man must be blind.

What was his problem, anyway?

"Hey, maybe we should just pay that guy off and send him home?" Kevin gestured subtly toward the man waiting at the counter. "He doesn't exactly scream 'top-tier host.'"

Couldn't hold a conversation, was terrible at flirting, and even told customers the blunt truth-yeah, probably not cut out for this line of work.

"Don't you know what really makes a successful male escort?"

"He's... refreshingly different," Stella Dawson said, a hint of a smile touching her lips.

Just then, Rex returned carrying several cups of ice cream.

He handed one to her and one to Kevin.

The café next to the Moonlight Club was actually more famous for its desserts.

Kevin didn't hold back, taking an immediate large bite. "Good call. This hits the spot."

"So, seriously," he continued, mouth still half-full, "what made you want to get into this business? You don't seem... prepared."

"I'm feeling generous today," he added, rubbing his hands together with a teasing grin. "Maybe I can set you up with a better gig."

Stella shot him a warning look-sharp enough to make Kevin drop the smirk and straighten up. He rolled his eyes slightly before turning back to Rex with a more serious expression.

"Relax, I'm just messing with you." He slung an arm around Rex's shoulder. "Come on, let's bounce. This place has too many busybodies."

Rex hesitated, his eyes flicking between Kevin and Stella. Ultimately, he didn't shake off the arm.

Kevin had a driver waiting out front, parked curbside in a conspicuously flashy white sports car.

Rex stood silent for a moment before sliding into the backseat with them.

Meanwhile, under the shadows nearby, Alexander Sterling stood watching, his fingers lightly tracing the wooden bead on the red string around his neck. His face was an unreadable mask, but a cold intensity simmered beneath the surface.

Jack Holden stood beside him, awkwardly silent, searching for the right words.

"That woman... it was Stella Dawson?" Alexander asked suddenly, his voice low. "Surrounded by hired men? Clinging to them?"

Jack stiffened. "I... I believe so..."

"It was her," Alexander stated, cold and final.

"Y-yes... that was Ms. Dawson," Jack muttered nervously, his eyes darting away.

Alexander's face darkened further as he stared at the departing sports car.

"Don't call her that. She's irrelevant," he snapped, yanking open the Rolls-Royce door. "Let's go."

The passenger door slammed shut with a heavy thud. The car sped off, leaving Jack standing on the curb with a defeated sigh.

Man, the boss has been in a foul mood lately-best not to provoke him.

He didn't dare say another word. Simply pulled out his phone to call a cab to follow them.

.

After the long night at Moonlight Club, Stella basically hibernated for two full days.

Technically, the villa wasn't hers. But since Alexander had ceased to appear months ago, she saw no reason to leave.

Still, a trip to the Dawson residence was unavoidable-she needed to retrieve her student ID.

And something even more crucial.

She tugged the brim of her cap lower and strode into the Dawson villa, her face set in a cold, impassive mask.

One of the maids recognized her immediately. Dressed in an oversized sweatshirt and loose-fitting pants, she was a far cry from the expected high-society attire.

The maid looked startled. "Miss."

"Hey, who is it?" a haughty voice called from the top of the staircase.

A girl, dressed as if for a photoshoot, appeared on the landing, her chin lifted imperiously as she looked down and questioned the maid.

Stella flexed her fingers slightly, her expression flat but her mind buzzing with silent sarcasm.

Wow. Settled into the 'precious daughter' role pretty fast, didn't she?

"Miss Emily, this is Miss Stella." the maid said gingerly.

Emily Dawson paused. She turned slowly, her eyes locking onto Stella's bored, disinterested face.

Even with the cap pulled low, it couldn't conceal her delicate, striking features. However much Emily loathed her, she had to admit-Stella was devastatingly beautiful.

Even devoid of expression, her flawless complexion and perfect bone structure seemed almost unreal.

That very beauty only stoked the fires of Emily's seething jealousy.

Her expression contorted rapidly, a chaotic swirl of emotions-envy, rage, bitter resentment-flashing across her face.

Why does she get to look like that?

What makes her so special?

The very first thing Emily Dawson did upon her return was to purge every photograph of Stella Dawson from the house.

Big or small, she couldn't stand the sight of that interloper lingering in the Dawson home.

The Dawsons had never warmed to that rebellious girl. Discovering she wasn't their biological daughter only hardened their hearts. They had even supported Emily when she boxed up and discarded Stella's belongings.

Emily hadn't even bothered to learn what she looked like.

Now, facing her for the first time, she was finally confronted with this so-called sister's appearance.

"So you're Stella, right." Emily forced a saccharine smile and approached, arm outstretched as if for an embrace.

She tried desperately to bury her envy beneath a facade of warmth.

But Stella smoothly sidestepped her reach. "We're not on a first-name basis."

Emily froze, her smile stiffening into a grimace.

"I'm no longer a Dawson. There's no need for the lady of the house to demean herself for an outsider."

The woman before her was breathtaking, her smile polite yet utterly detached.

Emily pursed her lips, maintaining the gentle tone. "Don't be like that, Stella. The Dawsons raised you all these years."

"And you and Mr. Sterling, you're still-"

"Oh, Alexander?" Stella interjected with a light, airy laugh. "He's my ex-husband now. Officially."

She casually stepped around Emily, avoiding any contact, and headed upstairs toward her former room.

Emily stood rooted to the spot, struggling to process the revelation.

Upstairs, a bedroom door creaked open. Laura Warner rushed out.

"Who was at the door?"

She scanned the area until Emily tilted her chin pointedly in Stella's direction.

"Mom, it's just Stella."

"Did Mr. Sterling come with her?"

"He did not."

Laura clicked her tongue, her disappointment palpable. "Then what good is her coming here?"

"I just heard her say Alexander is her ex. Did they actually get divorced?"

"So soon?" Laura's eyes widened in shock.

Emily's expression said it all-she was ecstatic. "Why not? Didn't Dad check yesterday? Alexander's been buried at the company, no travel in sight! She was lying all along!"

Their hushed whispers didn't reach Stella.

She stood inside the room, now converted into a storage closet, her gaze icy as she surveyed the jumbled mess.

They really couldn't wait to erase her.

As if they never expected her to cross this threshold again.

She let out a short, derisive laugh, then crouched to sift through the pile of discarded items. Soon, she retrieved her student ID.

Next, she moved to a corner, picked up a small black box, and opened it to reveal a necklace.

It was a simple string of wooden beads on a red cord, each bead intricately carved.

Stella tucked the necklace into her pocket, student ID in hand, and strolled out as if she owned the place.

Her footsteps, light as a cat's, carried her silently toward the entrance. Just as she opened the door-

"Oof!" Laura stumbled back in panic, losing her balance and landing hard on the floor.

She and Emily had been eavesdropping and were caught off guard by Stella's sudden exit.

Emily, startled, braced herself against the wall.

Stella gave a cold chuckle and regarded them calmly. "My, my. To what do I owe this... reception?"

"For an elder to be kneeling before me... it's a bit much, don't you think?"

"Mom! Are you okay? Let me help you up-should I call a doctor?" Emily rushed over, fussing over Laura with performative concern, a stark contrast to Stella's cool detachment.

Laura instantly bristled, pointing a trembling finger at Stella Dawson. Just as she was about to unleash her fury, Emily stepped forward to block her path.

"Stella, you didn't bring Mr. Sterling?" Emily chirped, smiling brightly. "Ever since the wedding, you haven't attended a single family dinner!"

"Yeah, well, we're divorced now-that particular obligation is void," Stella replied coolly.

Leaning against the doorframe, she dusted her hands off from the storage room. "Now that you're officially installed, this placeholder should make her exit. I won't be returning, and frankly, you can drop the pretense of civility."

"Divorced?!" Laura nearly shrieked, her eyes bulging. "What did you do to mess it up?"

She and Emily were stunned, clearly not anticipating this turn.

Laura frowned, shocked. "You had a little spat and just called it quits? How could you be so rash?"

"A matter this significant, and you don't inform your parents? What about the settlement?"

"Mr. Sterling must have given you something, right? Hand it over..."

"He's fully aware of the Dawson family circus," Stella cut in, her patience clearly spent. "He knows I'm not the real granddaughter. Whatever promises the old man extracted, they weren't meant for a stand-in like me."

"We're divorced. No money, no shares-don't waste your energy scheming."

That silenced Laura for a moment. She stared at Stella and snapped, "You got nothing? Then what use are you, showing up here?"

She rolled her eyes, not even attempting to hide her contempt.

Stella chuckled softly, tilting her chin toward Emily. "Why not? Mr. Sterling is still up for grabs. I'm just returning him to sender-if you're interested, go claim him."

"Just make sure she brings her ID. They can get the marriage certificate sorted straight away..."

Emily's face lit up with barely contained excitement.

"Truly?" she asked eagerly, wringing her hands.

Stella took a step back, grabbed a piece of paper and a pen from the room, scribbled down Alexander's address, and handed it over.

"There you go," said Stella with a smirk. "And don't forget to get that certificate, Mrs. Sterling."

"...You'd better not be playing games with me," Emily said warily, though her hand shot out to snatch the note.

Stella crossed her arms, gave a slight, mocking pout, then spun on her heel to head downstairs. "Do I strike you as someone who'd joke about him?"

"We're talking about Mr. Sterling. You think I'd bluff using his name?"

"Oh, almost forgot-he's got a meeting this afternoon, so you'd better hustle over there."

"My part here is done. I'm leaving."

And with that, she departed, not sparing a glance for Laura and Emily's gleeful celebration.

Emily darted into her room, the precious address clutched in her hand, while Laura retreated to her bedroom. Both were giddy, already picturing the glittering future as part of the Sterling dynasty.

Emily's head spun with visions of high society as the future Mrs. Sterling, while Laura practically glowed at the thought of announcing Alexander as her son-in-law-the envy of all.

As Stella stepped out of the villa, she spotted a family of five arguing vehemently with the security guards at the gate. They'd clearly made an effort to dress up, but their tacky fashion sense betrayed them.

"Hey! I'm her real father-how dare you block me!"

"That's right! She's my biological daughter!"

They had raised Emily, after all. Now that she was back with the Dawsons, they had come for the usurper.

No one seemed to realize Stella had always been merely a pawn.

She scoffed quietly and walked right past the commotion.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Unhurried, she pulled it out and answered.

On the other end, Kevin Porter's voice rang out, teasing as ever: "Stella, you're a bloody genius! Just got the paternity results back-turns out Emily's so-called parents aren't related to you at all. Zero genetic overlap."

"Wait, what? If Emily is their biological daughter, then what does that make you, Stella?"

"There's no accidental baby swap story here, is there?"

Stella narrowed her eyes, remaining silent for a beat. Kevin, sensing the shift, gradually lowered his voice.

After a pause, she finally said, "I'm starting to think. maybe the Dawsons aren't the only players who messed up. Perhaps another family is involved. Their real daughter could be living someone else's life right now."

"Wait, are you going to dig deeper?"

"If." She trailed off, pensive.

But Kevin jumped in again, "You know what just occurred to me? What if you turn out to be the long-lost daughter of the richest man in the capital?"

She blinked, surprised, then chuckled, playing along. "Why not aim for the stars? Let's start with the capital's wealthiest. Stranger things have happened."

"Alrighty, let me check. So, guess who topped that list last year?"

"Spit it out."

"Fine, it's Alexander Sterling. Stella, are you secretly his long-lost daughter?" Kevin cackled.

Stella rolled her eyes. "Oh, piss off."

She hung up promptly and flicked open the group chat that had been blowing up.

Someone was showing off-again: "Just acquired a private jet today. This is what substantial wealth looks like. Unlike poor little Stella, still counting pennies."

Stella's eye twitched. Her fingers flew over the keyboard as she replied with mock outrage: "Just you wait. This divorce will fund my new lifestyle. I'll buy TWO jets-one for travel, the other just to crash into your overinflated ego."

Her dramatic declaration instantly ignited the previously silent group chat.

"What?! Stella, since when are you divorced??"

"Oh my god, you finally dumped that iceberg?"

"Damn girl, power move!"

Then, a rarely active member suddenly dropped a message: "Send me the divorce papers. I'll unfreeze your bank card."

"Relax," Stella typed lazily, "the formal documents haven't arrived yet."

"Heh." That was his only reply.

She could practically picture his deadpan, smug face.

Feeling the need to reassure him, she added, "I'm making the call now to follow up. Give me a moment."

"Deal. The moment I see proof, the card is active. I'm practically broke waiting!"

"Haha, fine. Just hold tight."

After that, he went silent again.

The rest of the group kept buzzing with questions about the divorce details, while Stella exited the chat and called Jack Holden directly. With zero direct access to Alexander Sterling, his assistant was her only conduit.

She called Jack frequently to nag about the divorce. Her persistent badgering had undoubtedly cemented her image in Alexander's eyes. This time was no different.

Jack stared at the caller ID, frowning, his enthusiasm nonexistent. But his mind flashed back to the fierce woman at the club-was that really. Stella?

Distracted by the memory, he still answered, "Ms. Dawson."

"Hey, Jack," she said, her voice sweet. "Any progress on those divorce papers?"