Chapter 275

Stella's POV

While brushing my teeth, the phone's sharp ring suddenly broke the morning silence, startling me. I fumbled to answer the call, toothpaste foam dripping from the corner of my mouth, as Samantha's name flashed on the screen.

"Sam? What—"

"Stella!" Her voice cut in urgently. "Have you seen the news? About Adam!"

My heart sank suddenly, as if someone had punched me hard in the chest. "No, I just woke up. What happened?"

"Turn on the TV or check any financial news site! Now!" The rare panic in her voice made my fingers tremble slightly as I quickly opened the news app on my phone.

The glaring headline slapped me across the face:

[GT Group CEO Once Killed His Own Brother! Declared Not Guilty Due to Mental Disorder Diagnosis!]

"Fuck," I cursed under my breath, frantically scrolling to read the article. The news had broken overnight, claiming Adam was responsible for his brother's death years ago but had escaped legal consequences through a psychiatric evaluation.

Sam's voice continued in my ear: "GT Group's stock is in free fall. After the market opened at nine, both GT and Lancaster Group stocks immediately plummeted. Lancaster Group shareholders called an emergency meeting last night to oppose Adam's appointment as CEO."

I could barely process her words as my eyes scanned one sensational headline after another. According to Sam, reporters had surrounded both companies' headquarters since dawn.

"Stella? Are you still listening?"

"I have to go," I hastily hung up, still clutching my toothbrush with toothpaste foam on my chin, and rushed out of the bathroom.

Adam was sitting in the living room, casually dressed in a black turtleneck and dark pants, looking down at his phone. When he looked up and saw me, his expression immediately changed from calm to concerned.

"Stella? What's wrong?"

Only then did I realize my eyes were already red from panic and anger. "I'm sorry," I blurted out. "I didn't notice! They're saying terrible things about you in the news, about Eric's death, and I had no idea this was happening!"

Damn it, I should have found out sooner. If I hadn't been so tired last night, if I'd checked the news first thing this morning...

Adam approached me with an unsettling calmness, taking the toothbrush from my hand. His thumb gently wiped away the toothpaste foam from the corner of my mouth, a simple gesture that somehow felt more intimate than a kiss.

"Don't worry," he said softly. "It's nothing."

"Nothing?" I stared at him in disbelief. "Adam, they're calling you a murderer! The stocks are crashing! How can you say it's nothing?"

Is he crazy? Or has he become completely numb?

His eyes looked at me, calm and undisturbed. "It's just a minor inconvenience. That's all."

His hand lightly patted the small of my back, his fingers lingering on the curve just above my hip. "Go finish brushing your teeth. We'll talk later."

I returned to the bathroom, quickly rinsed my mouth, completely skipping my usual skincare routine. This is definitely not "nothing," I thought as cold water splashed against my face. This is a deliberate attack on Adam's reputation. Damn Thomas, it must be his doing.

When I emerged less than two minutes later, Adam raised an eyebrow.

"That's... efficient," he commented. "You usually spend at least half an hour in there."

"This is obviously not a normal morning," I replied, running my fingers through my uncombed hair. I felt my stomach churning with a mixture of panic and anger.

If he's branded a criminal and GT Group collapses, what will I do? No, not "I"—"we." We'll face this mess together.

Adam gently took my wrist and led me back to the bathroom. "Show me," he said, opening my makeup cabinet where skincare products were neatly arranged like soldiers awaiting orders.

"Show you what?"

"Your morning routine," he explained, picking up a crystal bottle of toner. "Which of these comes first?"

I stared at him in confusion, bewildered by his sudden interest in skincare during a company crisis. "Adam, is this really the time to be studying this?"

His company and reputation are going up in flames, and he's discussing skincare products? Has the shock been too much, has he had a mental breakdown?

"Humor me." His voice was soft but insistent.

I sighed and pointed to each product in sequence. "Toner first, then serum, then moisturizer. But today I can skip—"

He had already opened the toner, tilting it at too steep an angle, and a small puddle of liquid poured into his palm.

"That's too much!" I exclaimed, reaching out to stop him from wasting more.

God, this man knows nothing about skincare.

Ignoring my protest, he poured the excess product back into the bottle with surprising dexterity. "I want you to use them," he said simply. "I don't want you changing your habits because of me."

The strange tenderness in his voice stopped my objections. I dipped my fingers into the toner in his palm and began patting it onto my face. On impulse, I patted some onto his cheek as well.

"What are you doing?" he asked, though he didn't pull away.

"Even naturally beautiful Mr. Lancaster can benefit from proper skincare," I teased, trying to lighten the heavy atmosphere between us.

My brain is still racing, thinking about how to handle this crisis, but his behavior both confuses and touches me.

His brow furrowed. "'Naturally beautiful' makes me sound like a beauty pageant contestant."

"You'd win," I responded, a small smile tugging at my lips despite the unease in my heart.

He watched intently as I applied the serum, then tried to mimic my movements, his strong fingers unexpectedly gentle as they lightly patted my skin. There was an unusual look in his eyes—a vulnerability I rarely saw.

"Will you leave me?" The question suddenly emerged, hanging in the air between us.

Fuck, does he really think I would leave him because of this bullshit news?

My heart contracted painfully. He thinks I might believe those accusations.

I rose on my tiptoes and gently kissed his lips, feeling them tense slightly with nervousness. "I believe you, Adam. Not those sensational headlines."

I'm already inside you, and you're inside me. We're connected so deeply that nothing could take me away from you.

Relief flashed across his face, so briefly I almost thought I'd imagined it. He then spent the next thirty minutes meticulously applying each product to my face, his initial clumsiness gradually transforming into almost reverent movements.

When he finally finished, I asked, "What's your plan? I mean, for dealing with the news?"

"Violet will handle the situation at Lancaster Group," he answered, his fingers still tracing the contours of my jawline. "There's a press conference at one o'clock."

My skin trembles with his every touch. Even in this moment of crisis, my body still has this ridiculous reaction to him.