Chapter 230

Jessica never imagined that Stanley—a man who once held his dignity dearer than life itself—could lower his standards this far.

He had completely abandoned all shame.

The car stopped in front of an exclusive French restaurant. Stanley had reserved the entire place.

On the long dining table, candlelight flickered.

Waiters served the appetizers and main courses, then quietly withdrew.

Jessica sat in her chair, arms crossed over her chest, staring coldly at the food before her without touching a bite.

Stanley sat across from her, methodically cutting a Beef Wellington. He slid the plate toward her.

Propping his chin on one hand, he watched her, his tone softening with an uncharacteristic hint of pleading. "Eat something. Please?"

Jessica didn't even lift an eyelid. Seeing her ignore him, Stanley showed no sign of irritation.

He suddenly stood and walked to her side.

From the inner pocket of his suit, he produced a deep blue velvet box containing a flawlessly cut pink diamond ring.

He knelt on one knee beside her.

"Sylvia, marry me." Stanley looked up at her cool, indifferent features, his tone serious to the point of stubbornness. "My shares in Smith Corporation, all the properties and funds under my name—I can transfer everything to you tomorrow. Just nod, and even my life is yours."

The restaurant fell so quiet that only the soft background music could be heard.

Jessica lowered her gaze to the priceless diamond ring, then to the man kneeling before her.

Stanley's hand holding the ring box began to ache.

Watching her unmoved expression, a dense, spreading pain bloomed in his chest, but he gritted his teeth and held his position.

He closed the box and stood, returning to his seat as if nothing had happened.

"It's fine. If you don't want to answer today, I'll ask again tomorrow."

Throughout the entire meal, Jessica didn't take a single bite.

After dinner, the Maybach pulled up outside the apartment building where her penthouse was located.

Jessica pushed open the door and walked straight into the lobby.

Stanley followed close behind like a piece of gum stuck to her shoe.

The elevator stopped on the eighteenth floor.

Jessica walked to her door and pulled out her keys.

Just as she inserted the key into the lock, Stanley pressed close. His tall frame blocked the hallway light as one hand braced against the doorframe—clearly intent on following her inside.

"Stanley, enough." Jessica turned around, firmly blocking the doorway, her eyes sharp as knives. "Get lost."

"I won't go in. Just let me look at you for a moment." Stanley leaned against the door, refusing to back down, beginning to act shamelessly.

They stood locked in a standoff at the door, the hallway air seeming to solidify around them.

Stanley lowered his head, his gaze falling on her red lips, slightly pursed in anger.

That shade of red looked particularly striking under the cold white lights—like a silent temptation.

He suddenly bent down, his large hand gripping the back of her head as he pressed her heavily against the door and kissed her fiercely.

Jessica didn't struggle. She didn't weakly pound his chest. Eyes open, she let him lose control.

A few seconds later, Stanley's movements faltered slightly at her coldness.

In that instant, Jessica seized her chance. Both hands pressed against his chest, she shoved hard.

Caught off guard, Stanley staggered back two steps.

Jessica leaned against the door, chest rising and falling slightly.

She raised the back of her hand and wiped her lips forcefully, as if something dirty had contaminated them.

"Had enough?" Her voice was frighteningly calm. "If you're done, get lost."

With that, she turned, pushed open the door, and walked inside.

The heavy security door slammed shut right in front of Stanley's nose with a deafening bang.

Inside.

The entryway lights remained off.

Jessica leaned against the cold door, surrounded by dead silence.

She lowered her head, looking at her slightly trembling fingertips, and exhaled a long breath.

Her heart was beating faster than usual.

Smith Mansion, study.

A fine purple clay teacup was violently smashed onto the Persian rug, tea splashing everywhere, porcelain shards flying half a meter away.

"You're absolutely disgraceful!" William sat in his rosewood chair, chest heaving with rage as he pointed at Stanley standing before the desk and cursed, "What exactly is wrong with Ms. Mitchell? You left her sitting alone in that restaurant and ran off to make a drunken scene outside someone else's apartment! You've completely disgraced the Smith family name!"

Stanley wore the same wrinkled suit from last night, the dark stubble on his jaw giving him a somewhat haggard appearance.

He didn't avoid William's piercing gaze. His spine remained straight, his eyes carrying the obstinate look of a man with nothing left to lose.

"Eleanor is wonderful, but I don't want her." Stanley's voice was hoarse, yet his tone held no retreat. "Grandfather, you don't need to arrange any more marriages for me. Tomorrow I'll personally visit the Mitchell family to apologize and call off this engagement."

"You dare!" William slammed his hand on the desk with a dull thud. "You will go to the Mitchell family today to make amends and finalize this marriage! From now on, you are forbidden from harassing Sylvia! Haven't you hurt her enough already?"

"In this lifetime, it's her or no one." Stanley met William's eyes directly, each word falling heavily in the quiet study. "Unless she personally tells me she's fallen in love with someone else and married them, as long as I have breath in my body, I'll keep pursuing her. Even if she hates me, I accept that."

"You—" William pointed at his nose, his finger trembling.

The study door was suddenly flung open.

Stella burst in with red-rimmed eyes. She'd clearly heard the entire conversation from outside. She walked up to Stanley in a few quick steps, unable to suppress the fury in her heart, her voice shaking. "Stanley, just how selfish can you be before you'll stop? Have you forgotten how Jessica left back then?"

Stanley's pupils contracted sharply.

"She had stomach cancer! What were you doing when she was alone in the hospital going through chemotherapy?" Tears streamed down Stella's face as she glared at her own brother through clenched teeth. "She barely managed to come back to life, built her own career and life, and now you're harassing her under the banner of love. Do you realize you're suffocating her? Do you have to push her to death again before you're satisfied?"

The word "death" was like a poisoned steel needle stabbing straight into Stanley's nerves.

His face turned deathly pale instantly. His hands hanging at his sides clenched into fists, knuckles cracking with the excessive force.

But the obsession in his eyes didn't dissipate because of Stella's accusations—it only grew more intense.

"I won't hurt her again." Stanley looked at Stella, his voice low and hoarse yet carrying absolute obsession. "I will never let her suffer even the slightest grievance. I just need her to stay by my side. Even if it makes me a shameless pest, I absolutely will not let go."

"You're hopeless!" Stella looked at him in despair, as if looking at a madman.