Stella's POV
I woke up with my entire body aching, sunlight streaming through a gap in the curtains. Blinking slowly, I gradually returned to reality, still reeling from Adam's "punishment" from last night .
Trying to stretch, I realized I was trapped in a warm embrace, with Adam's steady breath tickling the nape of my neck.
Suddenly, a thought hit me.
"Oh my God! I'm late!" I panicked, struggling to get up. "The style meeting—"
"You have the morning off," Adam's languid voice came from above me, his arm showing no sign of letting go.
"Off?" I stopped struggling and glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand. 10:30. I would indeed be late if I had work today.
Adam slowly loosened his grip and sat up, his hair unusually disheveled, though his green eyes remained as sharp as ever.
"I've always had mild insomnia. Usually I only need about three or four hours of sleep," he explained, noticing my confused expression. "I didn't get up early today because I was holding you."
My cheeks flushed as I quickly grabbed my phone to check my messages. Sure enough, there was a notification from the director: morning meeting with the leads to discuss image design, styling and wardrobe departments have the morning off.
"It really is a day off," I murmured, then suddenly looked up at Adam. "Wait, did you arrange this?"
Adam nodded without hesitation. "I had Taylor notify the production team."
*So you planned to exhaust me until five in the morning from the start?* I thought to myself, though I had to admit that half of this free morning had already been wasted. It was 10:30 now, with only a few hours left before the afternoon shift.
I reflected on our conflict and reconciliation last night. Despite how exhausting Adam's "punishment" had been, the feeling of being completely possessed by him somehow brought us closer.
Adam had already gotten up and was efficiently changing into his custom-tailored suit. Within minutes, he had transformed back into the cold "Mr. Lancaster" persona. Only his slightly messy hair and the faint shadows under his eyes proved he was human after all.
That's when I realized an awkward problem. "Adam, I... I don't have anything to wear." I looked at the torn dress on the floor and bit my lip in frustration.
Adam's gaze lingered on me, clearly enjoying my embarrassment as I clutched the sheets around me. He turned and walked to the living room. Moments later, he returned with an elegant shopping bag, from which he pulled out a red cashmere dress and what appeared to be expensive lingerie.
"You... you didn't have Taylor buy these, did you?" I asked in horror, imagining the awkwardness of Adam's assistant shopping for my underwear.
Adam raised an eyebrow, his tone carrying a hint of displeasure. "Stella, what are you thinking? Would I let another man buy underwear for my wife?"
"Then who...?"
"My personal assistant. Female." Adam placed the clothes beside me on the bed. "Now, get up. I'll help you dress."
"I-I can do it myself," I instinctively clutched the sheets tighter.
"It's nothing I haven't seen before. Why so shy?" Adam's tone was teasing, but his eyes were dead serious.
Eventually, I gave in to Adam's insistence and accepted his "help." When his fingers grazed my skin, the intimacy made my heart race. This kind of care felt too intimate, reminding me of behavior only lovers or spouses would share.
*But aren't we spouses?* The thought made my heart skip a beat.
After getting dressed, I suddenly remembered last night and couldn't help feeling indignant. "You hurt me last night."
"Hmm?" Adam turned to look at me, his expression impassive.
"You hurt me last night! And you haven't even apologized!" I emphasized, though I knew the passion had been mutual.
A flash of remorse crossed Adam's eyes before quickly disappearing. He clearly didn't want to apologize, believing I had brought it on myself.
"You have a college degree and got your master's early. I always thought you were smarter," he adjusted his tie, his tone cool. "Make choices, face consequences."
\---
Around noon, Adam, dissatisfied with the hotel's food, ordered takeout from a restaurant. As I was clearing the coffee table to prepare for lunch, I noticed another delivery bag.
"Sparkling water!" I exclaimed in surprise, pulling out the green glass bottle. "Did you get this for me?"
Adam didn't look up, focusing on his laptop. "It came with the restaurant order."
I raised an eyebrow, knowing full well that this Italian sparkling water had nothing to do with the high-end restaurant's supply chain. And coincidentally, it happened to be my favorite drink, which I had casually mentioned during a dinner with Adam once.
"Are you apologizing with sparkling water?" I asked with a smirk, unable to hide my smug expression.
"Don't overthink it." Adam continued staring at his laptop screen, his tone flat.
"If it's an apology, sparkling water isn't enough," I deliberately provoked him. "You should also buy me fried chicken and fries."
"I said it's not!" Adam finally looked up, frowning at me.
I opened the sparkling water and took a sip, the bubbles dancing on my tongue making me inexplicably happy. I realized that with Adam Lancaster, his actions always spoke louder than his words.
\---
At 1:30 PM, the 'Splendor' crew returned to work. As soon as I arrived at the makeup room, I heard cheers.
"What's going on?" I asked curiously.
Lisa excitedly pointed to the break area. "Someone sent fried chicken, one box for each person! Morning off, fried chicken when we start work in the afternoon—it's perfect! I wonder which crew member's family is so thoughtful!"
I froze, staring at the golden fried chicken in paper boxes, a smile involuntarily spreading across my face. I remembered what I had said this morning—"If it's an apology, sparkling water isn't enough, you should also buy me fried chicken and fries."
*Adam, you stubborn, soft-hearted man,* I thought silently.
Today I was responsible for styling the supporting male actor as a vagrant—a down-on-his-luck artist who needed to appear disheveled yet retain an artistic quality. I focused on my work but felt many people watching me with curious glances.
*Adam Lancaster's appearance on set probably had a bigger impact than I imagined,* I thought. From the moment Adam publicly acknowledged me as his wife, my status had completely transformed.
"Ms. Winston, what's your relationship with Mr. Lancaster?" the supporting actor suddenly asked during a makeup break.
My hand paused momentarily, but I didn't answer, just continued focusing on my work.
The actor seemed to interpret my silence as some kind of hint, his gaze turning suggestive. "Ms. Winston, I've admired you since I first saw you. Would you consider going out with me? My mother is on the Fashion Week committee, I could give you the best industry resources."
I put down my makeup brush and looked directly into his eyes. "Sir, I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that, and I hope this is the last time you say something like that."
My voice wasn't loud, but my tone was resolute, my gaze uncompromising. After quickly finishing the remaining styling work, I promptly left.
Shortly after, I saw Lucy walk up to the supporting actor, deliberately examining his styling with an exaggerated expression.
"Hey, isn't this styling a bit... too detrimental to your appearance?" Lucy feigned surprise. "You have so many fans who love your looks. I wonder if Stella deliberately made you look like this?"
Lucy's voice wasn't quiet, and the crew members around could hear her clearly. The actor's expression immediately darkened.