Stella spoke coldly, "You're never seeing her again. Take your stuff and get out."

Charles froze for a second, the corners of his thin lips curving into a mocking smile.

"Stella, you walked out with nothing but took Sophie with you. Trying to use our kid to squeeze money out of me? That's pathetic, don't you think?"

The urn with their daughter's ashes was just upstairs. Stella couldn't bear to let her daughter hear her beloved dad talking so heartlessly.

She grabbed the gift box on the table and flung it at him. "I told you to get out! Are you deaf or just dumb?"

Charles's expression turned dark.

The light tulle dress she threw landed in the rain-soaked ground, now dirty and ruined.

The tiara he'd designed himself shattered into pieces, diamonds scattered across the cracked floor tiles.

His self-control was hanging by a thread.

Suddenly, the phone rang.

He glanced at it, answered, and deliberately hit speaker.

"Mr. Hart, the piano you ordered has arrived. We're ready to deliver. Is the address still Riviera Court?"

Charles stared at Stella, his voice icy and deliberate.

"Change it. Send it to 8 Rosehill Villa. Receiver: Olivia."

Then he hung up.

He wanted Stella to know-he could be generous, or he could take everything back in a heartbeat.

He could act like Sophie never existed, or he alone could decide her place in his life.

Isn't this what she wanted? Walking away with no money, using Sophie as a bargaining chip?

Fine. He'd love to see how she'd end up.

Stella didn't flinch. Her face was pale as a ghost, dried blood caked across her forehead, making her look terrifying and worn.

She lifted her hand and calmly pointed to the door.

"Now will you leave?"

Something clenched hard inside Charles's chest. Emotions twisted up inside, too tangled to bother sorting out.

His jaw was tight, fury in his tone. "Stella, tell your daughter never to call me again. I never want to hear from her."

That hit Stella like a slap.

Her Sophie was already gone-but now, even her soul had to hear her dad say she was unwanted.

Stella suddenly went wild, her eyes darting around like a caged animal. She grabbed a dusty broom from the corner and swung it straight at him.

"Get out of my house, you bastard! Step in here again and I swear I'll kill you!"

She hadn't eaten in days, barely slept, surviving on a few sips of honey water, and now all her strength was gone. After a few weak swings, she collapsed.

Charles just stood there for a moment.

What popped into his head wasn't anger, though-it was the day Old Mrs. Hart had first brought Stella back to the Hart family home.

That wasn't the first time he met her.Back when he used to attend business banquets with his father, he'd seen this spoiled little princess before-bright as the sun, bold and untamed.

But when he saw Stella again, just like today, she was gripping a broom and charging at him like a prickly little hedgehog-miserable but stubborn as ever.

That dazzling sun had dulled, yet it still sparked guilt and an urge to protect her within him.

But the woman he pitied had drugged him. On the night he brought Isabelle home and was planning to get engaged, Stella climbed into his bed and got caught red-handed by the whole Hart family.

If that hadn't happened... maybe Olivia wouldn't have gone into early labor. Maybe they all wouldn't have ended up suffering so much.

He kicked the broom hitting his ankle away in anger.

"Stella, using the same trick again? It won't work. You gave birth to Sophie, but you still let her see you stoop to this kind of crap-aren't you ashamed of yourself?"

With that, he stormed off.

His car engine had been running for a while, but he hadn't stepped on the gas.

Through the window, Charles stared at the motionless figure in the living room.

Frustrated, he slammed his fist on the steering wheel.

A moment later, he yanked the door open and walked back.

"Stella, Grandma's been good to you. She's coming back soon after a year of treatment overseas. Can't you just not make a scene right now?"

The person on the ground didn't move an inch.

"Stella!"

He nudged her waist gently with the tip of his shoe, realizing something was wrong. Without hesitation, he bent down and scooped her up, rushing out.

In the super private VIP room of a high-end private hospital, Jason Bennett finished his check-up, then glanced at Charles with raised brows.

"What, domestic violence now?"

No wonder he'd show up at his place.

Charles shot him a glare sharp enough to kill. "The diagnosis."

Jason shrugged.

"She's not sick. She's just starving-literally. No food, no water, no sleep. Even gods would cave under that. Her emotions are all over the place, and she's got a mild concussion. Honestly, it's a miracle she lasted this long."

Charles's brow furrowed deeply.

Since Isabelle came back with Olivia, this woman had been pulling stunts non-stop.

Now that she couldn't manipulate him using Sophie, she was turning to starving herself?

"Hook her up to an IV."

Jason let out a long sigh.

He knew better than to try to talk sense into him.

Back in their youth, Charles was wild and carefree. But during an outdoor adventure, he suddenly vanished.

The rest of the Hart cousins claimed they hadn't seen him.

He turned up six months later in a hospital-one leg broken, and both his vision and hearing badly damaged.

He never said a word about what happened.

He never found the grandfather and child who'd saved him, either.

From that point on, Charles changed completely.

He didn't trust anyone, and kept everyone at arm's length.

When Stella moved into the Hart family home, he treated her like a beloved sister-spoiled her completely.

Better than he'd ever treated anyone else.The one person who managed to crack his walls-was also the one who stabbed him right in the heart.

After they hooked Stella up to an IV, Jason glanced over. "Should I call a nurse to stay with her?"

Charles didn't respond.

He just stood silently by the window, his tall frame casting a heavy shadow, a mix of loneliness and tension radiating off him.

Jason shrugged tactfully and left, closing the door behind him.

-

Stella drifted into a long, drawn-out dream.

In it, she was back to before fourteen-back when life hadn't gone off the rails. The Johnsons were living large, and she was dressed up fancy, trailing her parents into glamorous parties.

She'd been sneaking a cupcake when a handsome boy caught her red-handed. Puffing up her cheeks and placing hands on her hips, she threatened him into silence... then wiped frosting on his lips and said, "If I go down, you're coming with me."

The sweet memory shattered, torn apart by a sudden wave of blood and screaming.

She saw her mom's ruined face, her dad's twisted legs, all mangled from the crash.

Countless hands pulled her into the dark.

But that same boy dragged her back out, holding her favorite cake, trying to make her smile.

"From now on, I got you."

And then-everything flipped.

That same boy, his burning body pressing against hers, the harshness of his kiss. She was confused, hurting, and completely unprepared.

Still, she kept trying-patching their broken home with all she had, one handful of mud at a time.

Even when fear and pain chewed her up from the inside, she kept pushing forward, helpless but unwilling to let go.

"Charles!"

The man, half-awake, voice raspy and clearly annoyed, was not happy about being pulled from sleep.

"I'm right here. What's the drama now?"

He grumbled, irritated, and pulled her into his arms. But then his fingers brushed her damp, icy cheek, now soaked with tears.

His hands froze.

He shifted her a little, lowering his head to see her face more clearly.

Still stuck in the nightmare, Stella was crying like her heart was shattering.

Her tiny fists clutched tightly at his shirt.

"Charles... don't do that to Sophie. You can't..."

"Don't leave, please... please don't..."

Her whispers came out broken and choking, hardly words-but each one full of desperate longing.

Charles stared down, a storm flickering in his eyes.

How many years had he spent soothing her like this?

"I'm not going. Stop crying."

His grip loosened. One big hand rubbed circles into her back, while the other curled under her neck, pausing to quietly massage the top of her head.

Stella seemed to cling onto that touch, as if hoping to hold onto something real in the middle of the nightmare.

She burrowed deeper into his chest, pressing close.

The warmth between them flashed hot, sparking with a tension neither of them dared fan.

Since Isabelle had come back with Olivia, and the truth came out-he hadn't laid a finger on Stella.

Now, all that pent-up hunger was about to burst loose.

His breath grew rough, warning sharp between clenched teeth.

"Stella, keep moving like that and don't blame me for what happens."

Charles had finally lost his patience. He flipped over, pinning Stella beneath him, gripping her jaw as he kissed her roughly.

His hands slid up along her waist as his breath grew heavy and erratic.

Stella was yanked out of her nightmare by an uneasy sensation.

Her eyes snapped open, staring blankly at the swaying ceiling overhead. It wasn't until her legs were forced apart that everything hit her-hard.

Fully aware of their position, she snapped. Her jaw tightened and she bit down on Charles's neck with all the fury she had.

He grunted in pain but didn't let go, gripping her waist even tighter.

His voice, low and grainy, brushed against her earlobe, full of mockery.

"Already can't handle it before I even get started?"

It wasn't the first time Stella had bit him during sex whenever things got too rough. But hearing those words now only made her feel utterly humiliated. She squirmed and fought like hell.

"Get off me. Don't touch me."

Their clothes were barely hanging on, and both of them were pressed close, skin to skin. The friction between them only made things worse. Charles' forehead pulsed with veins as he clenched her thigh tightly, eyes bloodshot.

"Stay still if you don't want me to ruin you."

Their eyes locked, and all Stella could see was the desire burning in his gaze. It made her sick.

That night six years ago, Charles took away her innocence. And after that, unless she was on her period or right after giving birth, he would torment her almost every single night.

He claimed to hate her, yet he couldn't get enough of her body.

She used to think he was just mad at her-never that he truly despised her.

Then Isabelle came back, and everything changed. Charles stopped touching her completely. Once, after she'd showered and tried to approach him, he threw her out like garbage.

"Stella, you disgust me."

Charles wasn't some sex-obsessed maniac, but his desire was intense. Since he thought she was disgusting, it could only mean one thing-he had Isabelle back now.

But Sophie was gone. Their daughter was dead. Why should she let this faithless man continue to violate her?

"Charles, if you touch me again, I'll call the cops and report you for marital rape."

Her voice was ice as she stared blankly above, no more fighting, even though his grip on her thigh only tightened.

The pain grounded her, made her sharper.

Matching his tone from past times, she gave a cold, sarcastic laugh.

"You're the one who's gross. You touch me, I want to puke. Get off."

Something about her now was unfamiliar-cold, cutting.

Charles froze.

The heated tension in the room evaporated like someone flipped a switch.

Any trace of desire disappeared.

He rolled off her with disgust, tossed the blanket at her, and stalked off to the bathroom.

His phone, tossed carelessly on the nightstand, kept lighting up.

The name "Baby Olivia" lit up the screen again and again, stabbing at Stella's eyes-and her heart.

She couldn't look at it anymore.

She got dressed and walked out without a second glance.

Sophie was still waiting for her.

When Charles came out of the shower, the bed was empty. His face turned dark with rage.

He stormed over, grabbed his phone, ready to order someone to go get both Stella and Sophie-but then he noticed the dozens of missed calls and unread messages.

It hit him.

He'd promised to stay with Olivia at the hospital before her procedure.

He changed quickly and drove straight to Rosehill Villa.

The second he stepped out of the car, Olivia came running, clinging to his legs with tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Daddy, I thought you didn't want me anymore."

His heart clenched. He bent down and scooped her up, kissing her cheek gently.

"You're my princess. How could Daddy not want you?"

"But Sophie's your daughter too. Mommy said she's sick too... and if you stayed with Sophie, I wasn't allowed to bother you. But I missed you so much."

She wrapped her arms around his neck like she couldn't bear to let go.

Isabelle rushed out too, her face full of guilt and worry."Charles, it's my fault-I didn't manage her well. I'm sorry."

Compared to Stella's outbursts, Isabelle had clearly raised Olivia to be sweet and well-behaved.

That only made Charles feel even more protective of her.

"I'm the one who made you suffer all those years abroad alone. You don't need to apologize. Are your things packed? Let's head to the hospital now."

Isabelle gave him a soft nod, then suddenly caught a glimpse of a faint bite mark near the collar of his black shirt.

It flashed by quickly, but she saw it.

Clearly, he'd been with Stella just now-so caught up he even ignored Olivia's call.

Her expression instantly shifted as she forced down the jealousy in her eyes. When she looked up again, her face was all gentle and warm.

"Charles, maybe let Olivia down for now. Don't spoil her too much."

She reached out as she spoke, but her foot slipped, and she tumbled straight into his arms.

Olivia burst out laughing.

"Mommy's being shy! She wants Daddy to hug her too. Daddy kissed me earlier, now it's Mommy's turn or she'll get jealous!"

Isabelle glanced shyly at Charles, her eyes full of affection.

She was wearing a low-cut sweater dress, showing just enough pale skin to give off a soft, confident allure.

But Charles only stepped back and took his arm away, keeping Olivia in his arms as he bounced her slightly.

"You little rascal, let's see what you've packed this time."

Olivia giggled and started chattering away.

Isabelle, watching them, slowly clenched her fists behind her back.

-

After returning to her family's home, Stella scrubbed herself in the shower until her skin was red, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't scrub away the traces Charles had left behind.

She curled up on the bathroom floor, hugging her knees in silence.

Only after a long while did she drag herself up and peel off the soaked bandage on her head. Looking in the mirror, her pale face and the ugly wound on her forehead stared back. She redid the wound care herself.

She had to find out what really happened with the Johnson Group.

She had to repay everything owed to the Hart family.

And most of all, she had to make Charles pay-for Sophie's death.

She couldn't just give up like some beaten-down loser.

After charging her phone, Stella tried to recall those terrifying memories, but the faces of the thugs who came to collect debt were still a blur.

The second she turned her phone on, messages started pouring in-she hadn't even opened them when Renee Kelly called.

"What the hell's going on with you? The deadline passed three days ago! You know that's a breach of contract, right?"

That jolted Stella's memory.

Right before Sophie's last attack, she'd accepted a commission. If she didn't deliver, she'd have to pay a fifty-thousand-yuan penalty.

Even though Charles never hesitated when it came to money, Stella never wanted to be that kind of useless, good-for-nothing.

After marrying him, she'd kept at composing part-time online and even built up a bit of a reputation.

Renee, who dealt with assigning work, had never met her in person-just a straight-talking, no-nonsense pro.

"Renee, I-"

Stella didn't even know where to begin.

Luckily, after working together for so long, Renee didn't press.

"I managed to buy you some time. I've sent you the address, go handle the client face to face."

With that, she hung up.

Stella checked the address and frowned.

Rosehill Villa?

Seriously? What are the odds?

She didn't delay. After freshening up briefly, she grabbed a taxi to the location.

After signing in at the gate, she'd barely walked a few steps inside before running into Isabelle.

"Stella? You're looking for Charles? He's already taken Olivia to the hospital. Come on in and rest. I'm just grabbing some clothes for him-he was so worried about Olivia, he even forgot to pack his own underwear."

Isabelle smiled warmly, like she completely forgot how Stella had nearly strangled her at the hospital the other day.

Acting all friendly and chill, yet dropping little landmines in every sentence-each one full of teasing intimacy she made sure Stella could hear.

Stella heard Isabelle's oh-so-gracious words and felt a wave of nausea roll through her. She forced a cold, mocking smile.

"Isabelle, I didn't come here for him. You might see him as some sort of prize, but trust me-he's not worth a dime in my eyes."

Isabelle was still clutching Charles's underwear, watching Stella walk off toward the house next door. Her jaw tightened, teeth grinding with rage. The fabric crumpled in her grip, a pathetic little symbol of her so-called claim.

She couldn't stomach it. Resentment twisted in her chest, and before long, she trailed after Stella without making a sound.

When she saw Stella step into Jason's place, a crooked smile crept across Isabelle's face. She whipped out her phone, clicked a couple of times, and snapped a picture just as Stella disappeared through the door.

Not long after, Charles came home with Olivia in his arms.

Isabelle, already waiting for this moment, pretended to be half-distracted, nervously fiddling with the very same underwear still in her hand.

Charles immediately spotted it and frowned, voice full of suspicion.

"Why do you have my underwear?"

Isabelle lowered her eyes, tone soft and full of fake vulnerability.

"You left it here the last time you drank too much... I just kept it for you."

But the truth was, she'd swiped it when he passed out, stashing it just in case she needed it.

After speaking, her gaze intentionally shifted toward Jason's house, clearly uneasy-with something clearly on her mind.

Charles caught on and followed her line of sight. Wasn't that Jason's place?

Jason was his longtime friend and personal doctor. Their families had known each other forever, so his house being next door was no coincidence.

"You feeling unwell or something, keep looking at Jason's place," he asked, eyebrows slightly drawn.

Isabelle's fingers twisted nervously at the hem of her shirt. She fidgeted, a nervous wreck, looking like she was wrestling with whether or not to keep quiet.

"Um... I'm just not sure if I should say it. It might make Stella look bad."

Stella?

What now?

Charles frowned deeper, instantly annoyed.

"She went to see Jason?"

His voice was tense, slow, and sharp as a knife.

His face grew darker by the second, even without a full explanation. The temperature in the air seemed to dip.

Isabelle bit her lip. She was practically itching to spill it.

"Yeah... I saw her go into his place. Not sure what they're up to."

That was the final trigger.

Charles's expression darkened instantly, gloomy like a thundercloud.

His mind flashed back to the time when Stella had demanded a divorce. Back then, he thought she was pulling the same old stunt-playing hard to get, trying to get him to notice her.

But now... she really was off seeing other men? And not just any man-his own friend?

Then the memory hit him-six years ago, when Stella had drugged him and climbed into his bed. His whole body went cold.

Was she really up to her dirty tricks again?

Without another word, he stormed off toward Jason's house, fists clenched.

Behind him, Isabelle held Olivia tighter and smiled faintly, covering the little girl's eyes.

"Don't look, baby. Aunt Stella's doing something bad."

Bang! Charles kicked the door open.

Inside, Stella was going over a music score. She jumped at the sudden noise, staring wide-eyed at Charles's raging face, completely confused.

"Charles? Why are you here?"

He made his way to her in a few angry strides, eyes practically spitting fire.

"Why? You really wanna ask me that? Stella, do you even have any shame? Sneaking into my friend's house to seduce him?"

He sneered and added with venom, "Trying to play the same old tricks you did back then?"

Those words-"seduce" and "same old tricks"-felt like invisible blades slicing right into Stella.

Her throat tightened. "Charles, I'm just here for a job. This is my work!"

Charles let out a cold laugh and stormed over, wrapping an arm tightly around her and squeezing her waist hard.

"Your work?" he repeated, eyes darkening. "So what, I haven't touched you in a while, and now you're so desperate you're out here taking jobs like this?"

The venom in his voice stung. Stella slapped him across the face without thinking, struggling like crazy to break free.

"Get off me, Charles. I came to drop off a score. I'm not disgusting like you."

Who did he think he was to judge her?

He was all cozy and lovey-dovey with his sweetheart Isabelle, living the good life.

"I'm disgusting? Stella, you better be careful with what you're saying, or-"

Just then Jason, the client and Charles's friend, stepped in.

"Charles, you've got it all wrong. Mrs. Hart is really just here to deliver the composition."

That hit Charles like a brick. Yeah, he remembered now-he'd been too busy, so he asked Jason to find a decent composer for him.

Jason had said all the big names were tied up, but money could fix that. Still, Charles wanted someone who'd actually put their heart into making something for Olivia.

And the one Jason found... was Stella?

Stella was still breathing hard, listening to Jason's explanation.

She suddenly recalled what Renee had said when she got the assignment.

A terrible thought hit her. She felt her knees go weak.

"Mr. Bennett," she asked, voice shaking, "you said this music piece was for a little girl who was just released from the hospital. What's the girl's name?"

When she took on this project, it was because she understood the pain. She had Sophie in mind the entire time she composed that melody-wishing her little girl could be free from pain too.

"Olivia."

Jason had recognized Stella the moment she walked in, but he didn't want to meddle in drama. Now that things had escalated, he figured out what happened.

Stella froze when she heard that name.

She stared, like she couldn't process it.

Charles had planned a whole event for Olivia... had commissioned a celebratory score for his other daughter.

And her Sophie?

Her Sophie never even got to see her dad before she passed.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Bennett. I'm backing out."

Her voice cracked. She snatched up the score, but Charles was faster and stopped her.

"Stella, don't be ridiculous. You know the penalty for breaching the contract."

She scoffed. "Charles, I'd rather pay the damn fee than give you this music. You planned a party for Olivia-what about Sophie? Did she deserve to be ignored, to be forgotten?"

Her voice broke as tears welled up.

She couldn't stop thinking of those last moments with Sophie, while somewhere else Charles was planning some grand celebration for his other daughter.

Jason sighed, clearly uncomfortable.

"Mrs. Hart, Charles only wanted Olivia to smile again. This penalty... it's no small sum. Are you sure this is worth it? Can't we talk this through?"

"Mr. Bennett, thanks, but my mind's made up. I can't give you that music."

When she was writing that piece, all she thought of was Sophie.

Now Sophie was gone.

And they expected her to hand it over to Olivia? She just... couldn't.

Anyone else. Just not Olivia.

Charles's patience snapped. His tone dropped cold.

"Stella, don't push it. Do you really think you can afford to break this contract?"