Adam’s POV
I formally bid farewell to the actress. "Thank you for your company this evening," I said, my tone professional and detached, devoid of any warmth. This was merely part of the job; there was no need to display any emotion.
"It was my pleasure, Mr. Lancaster," she responded, her smile overly bright and her eyes excessively eager. "I would never have had the chance to attend such an event if it weren't for you. I'm truly grateful."
I gave a curt nod, already scanning the parking area for my car. These situations were all too familiar, and I just wanted to end the day as quickly as possible.
"Mr. Lancaster," the actress persisted, stepping closer, "I just wanted to say how much I appreciate this opportunity. Is it because I helped clarify the misunderstanding about Miss Winston's dance double?"
I glanced at her briefly before returning my gaze to the street "You may leave now." I felt no need to explain anything further or continue this conversation.
Her smile faltered slightly but quickly regained its composure. "Of course. Thank you again for the invitation."
As she finally walked away, Taylor approached me, his expression grave. I had a premonition that it wasn't good news.
"Sir, we have confirmed that Brian took photos of you and the actress tonight. Our security team checked his phone, and he has already sent the images to your wife."
I felt my jaw tighten, a surge of anger rising in my chest, but I suppressed my emotions. "And then?" I asked calmly.
"Mrs. Lancaster has not responded to the messages," Taylor reported. "She seems to be ignoring them."
"What is she doing now?" I demanded, my voice low, a sense of unease creeping in.
Taylor hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with the information he was about to reveal. "Mrs. Lancaster is having dinner with Mr. James Morgan."
A cold fury swept through me. James—the man who had always coveted my wife.
The photos, the misunderstandings, and now this—all the pieces began to connect in my mind. Without another word, I strode towards the waiting car, hearing Taylor's hurried footsteps behind me.
Stella’s POV
It was nearly three in the morning when I returned to the Lancaster manor. The house was dark and quiet, with only the security lights illuminating the hallways.
I quietly ascended the stairs, not wanting to wake anyone. As I entered our bedroom, I was surprised to find Adam already in bed, his back to the door, seemingly asleep.
He must have left the forum early, I thought, tiptoeing towards the bathroom to freshen up.
Twenty minutes later, I emerged in my nightgown, and Adam hadn't moved. I slipped into bed, staying on my side, careful not to disturb him.
Just as I was about to drift off, I felt the mattress shift. Without warning, Adam turned over, his arm encircling my waist, pulling me against his chest.
"You're not asleep," I gasped, startled by the sudden movement.
"No," he confirmed, his breath warm against my ear.
A tense silence stretched between us.
"Stella," Adam finally spoke, his voice low. "About tonight. My companion. There is nothing between us."
I blinked in surprise. Was he explaining himself? Adam Lancaster never explained his actions to anyone.
"I know," I said simply.
"You know?" He sounded almost disappointed by my lack of reaction.
"She's been trying to get close to you since the first dinner on set," I explained, keeping my voice neutral. "I'm not surprised she would seize the opportunity to accompany you to an event."
Adam was silent for a moment. "You have nothing else to say?"
"What should I say?" I asked, genuinely puzzled. "Who you choose as your companion for events is your decision. I had matters to attend to tonight."
Adam let out a half-laugh, half-scoff. "Okay, I won’t ask more."
Thanks God, he didn’t press further, I didn’t want him to know the detail.
The next morning, I woke early, slipping out of bed without disturbing Adam. After dressing quickly, I grabbed a small bag of groceries I had prepared the night before and left a note for Joseph, explaining that I would be back before noon.
Twenty minutes later, I knocked on Sam's apartment door. She opened it, looking exhausted, with dark circles under her eyes and her usually perfect hair in disarray.
"How is he?" I asked as I walked in, placing the bag on her kitchen counter.
"Not good," Sam admitted, running a hand through her hair. "He had a fever last night—probably an infection from the wound. I gave him the antibiotics James left, and the fever has come down a bit."
I unpacked the groceries, which included fresh fruit, protein-rich foods, and medical supplies. "I brought more bandages and antiseptics. And some proper food—you look like you haven't eaten since yesterday."
"Thank you," Sam said gratefully, accepting the coffee I handed her. "I've been up all night watching over him."
"Any idea what happened?" I asked, keeping my voice low. "How did he end up outside our club with a gunshot wound?"
Sam shook her head. "He hasn't been coherent enough to explain. He just mumbled 'they found me' before passing out again."
I frowned, my concern growing. "Sam, this is serious. If someone is after him and they tracked him to Rouge, you could be in danger too."
"I know," she sighed, leaning against the counter. "But like I said, I owe him a huge debt. I can't just turn him away."
"Are you planning to keep him here? In your apartment?" I asked incredulously.
"Of course not," Sam said quickly. "Once he's stable enough to move, I'll help him find a safer place. I can't harbor a gunshot victim indefinitely. It's too risky."