Eric's POV
The atmosphere at Lancaster Manor was so tense that it could almost be cut with a knife. I had just returned to the main house, still basking in the excitement of winning the MVP in the online tournament, only to be greeted by an almost funereal air.
Joseph was vigorously polishing the silverware with an unusual intensity, his movements mechanical and precise - a clear sign that something was amiss.
"What's going on?" I asked, grabbing an apple from the fruit basket.
Joseph briefly glanced up. "Mr. and Mrs. Lancaster are having some disagreements."
I almost choked on the first bite of the apple. "Adam and Stella? Arguing? That doesn't sound right."
"Indeed, sir," Joseph diplomatically replied.
Leaning against the counter, I felt genuinely puzzled. "Stella has the patience of a saint. What could Adam have done to make her angry?"
Adam had definitely messed up this time. Stella never lost her composure.
A faint twitch of Joseph's lips - the closest he came to a smile. "I dare not speculate, sir."
"But you know," I insisted, grinning.
"Discussing the private affairs of Mr. and Mrs. Lancaster is inappropriate," he replied, resuming his polishing with more vigor.
I exaggeratedly sighed. "Fine, keep your secrets. I'll find out on my own."
As I approached Adam's study, I could almost feel the chill emanating from behind the closed door. I hesitated briefly - disturbing him when he was in a bad mood was asking for trouble.
*Who cares,* I thought. I've faced scarier opponents in games.
Confidently knocking on the door, I pushed it open without waiting for a response. "Guess who just won MVP in the quarter-finals?"
Adam sat behind his massive desk, his expression cold enough to freeze hell over. When he saw me instead of the person he was expecting, his lips tightened in disappointment.
He thought I was Stella.
"What do you want?" he asked sharply.
"Wow, what a greeting," I said, casually slumping into a leather chair opposite him. "You can't treat your cousin like this. I'm family."
"I don't have a cousin that stupid," he replied flatly, focusing on the documents on his desk.
I decided to provoke him. "You know, you shouldn't take out your anger on me just because you had a fight with Stella."
This caught his attention. He looked up sharply, his eyes dangerously narrowed. "Who said we're fighting?"
"The whole house knows," I replied, casually inspecting my nails. "You're not very good at hiding it, cousin. The atmosphere here is colder than the Arctic Circle."
Adam grabbed a pen from the desk and threw it at me with deadly accuracy. I barely dodged it.
"Hey! Violence is never the answer!" I protested, but couldn't help grinning. Getting a reaction from the usually stoic Adam was always satisfying.
"Get out," he growled.
"Listen," I said, adopting a more serious tone, "why don't you apologize to her? Sort things out."
Adam's response was a contemptuous snort.
"What, too proud to apologize?" I challenged. "I get it - the great CEO of GT Group doesn't apologize to anyone, right? But Stella is different. She's special."
When Adam remained stubbornly silent, I decided to hit where it hurt. "You know what? Never mind. Stella is amazing - if you're not willing, there are plenty of men who would treat her right. She could easily find someone else to replace you."
Like Henry. That guy has been in love with her for a long time.
This time, a thick folder flew towards my head, and I decided I had pushed my luck far enough.
"Just a suggestion!" I called out as I quickly retreated, closing the door just in time to hear something else hit it.
*Mission accomplished,* I thought smugly. Let's see if that gets him to act.
Stella's POV
Sleep had completely eluded me. I lay on the huge bed, staring at the ceiling, time passing painfully slowly, minute by minute.
*Maybe I went too far,* I thought, replaying our argument in the car. Deliberately provoking him with Henry was childish, but it felt satisfying at the time - a small revenge for the hurt I felt seeing him with Grace.
But what did it actually solve? Besides creating more tension, nothing.
Words alone couldn't solve any problems. And there were more pressing concerns I should focus on, like Grandma's situation. She wouldn't easily give up on Lucy's college issue.
They will try again. People like them always do.
From the window, I could see the light in Adam's study finally go out. I quickly closed my eyes, pretending to be asleep. It was a futile gesture - Adam had never been fooled by my feigned sleep - but it was easier than facing another confrontation.
God, I was pathetic. Pretending to sleep to avoid my own husband.
I heard the bedroom door open softly, followed by Adam's almost silent footsteps crossing the carpet. The mattress dipped slightly as he sat on the edge of the bed.
"Soda?"
My eyes flew open in surprise. Adam sat beside me, holding a can of my favorite soda, his expression unusually gentle.
I sat up, feeling a bit disoriented by this unexpected peace offering. "What?"
"I asked if you wanted soda," he patiently repeated.
I suddenly realized my nightgown had slipped off one shoulder, revealing more skin than I intended. Adam's gaze briefly landed on my bare shoulder, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, then he deliberately shifted his gaze back to my face.
That look... God, even when I was angry with him, my body still reacted.
"I... I'm good, thanks," I managed to say, pulling my clothing back into place. "It's too late to drink now."
"How about coffee?" he suggested.
"At this hour?"
Adam hesitated for a moment, then tried again. "Fried chicken? Burger?"
A strange sense of déjà vu washed over me - it was exactly how Adam had tried to comfort me on the set of "Elegance" a few months ago. He was recycling his soothing tactics.
"Adam," I said, unable to suppress a smile, "the soda and fried chicken trick only works once. The second time, it loses its effect."
"I'm open to suggestions," he replied, his voice low and unusually vulnerable.
I lay back down, pulling the covers up to my chin. "I just want to sleep."
Adam looked at me for a moment, then suddenly grabbed my shoulders and pulled me out from the warm covers.
"Listen to me," he said, his voice serious. "You're not allowed to let Henry pick you up. You're not allowed to accept his flowers. You're not allowed to wear another man's coat. You're not allowed to call Henry."
I raised an eyebrow at this string of prohibitions. "And you?"
Would he deny it? Make excuses? Tell me I'm being irrational?
Adam's eyes met mine, his expression unusually serious. "None of that will happen again. I won't do those things anymore. Everything you mentioned - I will avoid in the future."
His unexpected concession left me momentarily speechless. I had been prepared to face arguments, denials, or even more anger - not this straightforward surrender.
*I got what I wanted,* I realized. So why did it feel so... empty?
My expression must have betrayed my thoughts, because Adam furrowed his brow slightly. "Don't look at me like that," he murmured, his hand coming up to cover my eyes. "Mrs. Lancaster shouldn't have such a complicated expression. Your eyes should be clear, carefree."
His fingers trailed down my cheek, lightly brushing my neck, the cool tips igniting tiny sparks on my skin. He lifted my chin, and before I could speak, his lips eagerly pressed down, his tongue invading my mouth, entwining forcefully with mine.
My heart raced, trying to push his hand away but freezing in mid-air, eventually softening back onto the bedsheet. His kiss carried an indescribable longing, and the remnants of anger in my mind gradually dissipated between his lips.
God, why did his touch always make me powerless to resist?
He pulled up my nightgown, his warm palm sliding up my side, fingertips lightly tracing my ribs, stopping at my chest. His thumb circled around my nipple, gently kneading, and I bit my lip, still letting out a low moan, my chest unconsciously arching towards him.
He chuckled softly, bending down to kiss my neck, his wet lips and tongue trailing down along my pulse points, sucking lightly on my nipple, occasionally nibbling with his teeth, bringing a tingling pleasure.
This damn man, how can I continue to be angry, I have to say, he's really good.