At this mont, Stella Sterling was casually chatting with Rhys Lennox.
"I haven’t seen you at the law firm recently, are you busy?"
Stella asked casually, her tone relaxed.
Today, she wore a light apricot knitted long dress, which made her skin look even more fair. Her long hair was loosely tied up, with a few strands hanging by her neck, making her look gentle yet casual.
Rhys’s fingers froze almost imperceptibly while scrolling the screen. Without looking up, he murmured, "Hmm."
"You’ve gone back to the Donovan Group?" Stella asked again.
She had actually guessed it. With Shane Donovan back in power, there was bound to be a purge within the Donovan Group. As a direct descendant, Rhys’s return was inevitable.
Rhys paused, and the little figure in the ga was instantly killed, the screen going dark.
Annoyed, he tossed the phone aside and looked up at her, his rebellious eyes unreadable: "What, not allowed?"
"Of course not..."
Stella laughed softly, feeling his reaction was a bit inexplicable, "You belong to the Donovan Family, returning to the Donovan Group is only natural. Previously working at my small law firm, you were overqualified."
Her words were sincere.
With Rhys’s academic qualifications and abilities, it was indeed a waste for him to be sorting files and running errands.
Rhys stared at her for a few seconds, suddenly smirking with a bit of self-mockery, but there was sothing else too. He leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees, closing the distance a bit, his voice low and gravelly, "Do you want to go back?"
"..."
Stella was taken aback by his abrupt question, blinked, then with a mixture of amusent and exasperation said, "What do you an ’do I want you to go back’? Even if I wanted you to, can you just go back?"
She just thought he was playing the spoiled young master again, jokingly going along with it, and added lightly, "Do well when you go back. With your abilities, you’ll definitely make your mark at the Donovan Group. Then, Young Master Lockwood might need to look after our small law firm."
As she spoke, she playfully clasped her hands in a gesture of mock salute.
Rhys looked at her relaxed and slightly sly smile, the weak spark deep in his eyes like a candle fla blown out by the wind, silently dimd.
He suddenly leaned back against the sofa, picked up the phone again, aggressively scrolling the screen, his tone turning cold and emotionless: "Hmm. I will."
Stella felt his mood change was a bit sudden but then thought about how Rhys had always been unpredictable and didn’t ask further.
Just then, she saw Shane Donovan coming downstairs, so she got up to greet him.
Rhys’s gaze followed her back, watching her naturally link arms with Shane, the two of them talking in low voices. Shane raised his hand, naturally helping her tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear.
His grip on the phone turned white-knuckled, his tongue pressed against his molars, and a naless fire mixed with jealousy burned inside him, rattling his insides.
He abruptly stood up, his movent causing others to look his way.
"I’m going out for so fresh air."
He threw out the remark, not looking at anyone, thrusting his hands into his pockets, and his blond hair blew in the draft as he strode towards the courtyard.
Shane cast a glance at Rhys, then pulled his gaze back, naturally placing an arm around Stella’s slender waist, drawing her closer, his actions intimate and possessive, "What were you talking to Rhys about just now?"
Stella felt the strength of his arm and the cool scent from his body, naturally leaning into him, looking up and smiling: "Nothing much, just chatting. Rhys said he’s back at the Donovan Group. I was encouraging him to do well."
Still holding Stella’s waist, Shane led her towards the dining room, leaning down to her ear, his breath warm on her ear, "You’re getting more and more like the lady of the house, hmm? Even knowing to encourage your brother-in-law."
Stella’s ears turned warm, and she gently nudged him with her elbow, glaring at him playfully: "What nonsense are you talking?!"
He chuckled low, tightening his arm around her, his lips almost brushing her earlobe, "How is it nonsense? You were quite in your elent just now? ’Do well when you go back. With your abilities, you’ll definitely make your mark at the Donovan Group’..."
He mimicked her earlier tone, his voice low and magnetic, teasing, "No wonder you’re a lawyer, you really know how to spin a tale."
Stella giggled from his teasing, turning her head to avoid him, her cheeks flushed, "Shane Donovan, can you be serious?"
"Serious?" He raised an eyebrow, pinching her waist gently, making her yelp softly, "Why be serious with your own wife?"
"You!" Stella was exasperated, raising her hand to hit him, but he caught her wrist, his fingers drawing an ambiguous line on her palm.
She blushed, trying to pull her hand back, but he held it firmly.
"What do you want to eat tonight?"
He suddenly changed the topic, his fingertip caressing the soft skin of her wrist, "Mrs. Callahan said there’s so good blue lobster flown in today, want it baked with cheese? Or do you fancy sothing else? You ntioned wanting to try that Shanghai crabcake last ti, should I have the kitchen prepare it?"
His tone was natural, indulgently pampering, as if he hadn’t been the one teasing her just monts ago.
Stella’s attention was indeed diverted, frowning slightly in thought: "Hmm... lobster is a bit rich, and the crabcakes seem quite complex, will there be enough ti to prepare? Maybe sothing simpler..."
"Cooking for you, there’s always enough ti."
Shane interrupted her, lightly pinching her fingers, "If you want to eat it, I’ll have them make it."
The pair spoke as if no one else was there, intimately and naturally, creating a world of their own.
All of this was seen, without missing a single detail, by Jasper standing to the side.
His face was pale with rage, his knuckles white from gripping his fists, the veins on the back of his hand bulging.
He watched Stella naturally exhibit coyness and dependence in front of Shane, her cheeks turning red from Shane’s proximity...
These were all once within his reach...
His heart felt like it was being pierced with countless tiny needles, or subrged in a vat of ice, the coldness biting him painfully.
She hadn’t even spared him a single extra glance.
"Jasper? Jasper, what’s wrong?" Grace Quinn noticed his grim expression, cautiously approaching, trying to tug at his sleeve.
Jasper abruptly shook off her hand, the motion so forceful it made Grace stumble.
He didn’t even look at Grace, his voice cold enough to freeze, squeezed through his teeth: "I have sothing to do, I’ll be leaving first."
Without waiting for anyone to react, he turned sharply, striding towards the door.
"Jasper! Jasper, where are you going?!" Grace called out urgently behind him, instinctively wanting to catch up.
"Let him go!" Old Mrs. Donovan snapped, her expression dark, "Has he no manners! Showing a face to his elders like this, what rubbish behavior! Grace, don’t bother with him, when he calms down, he’ll figure it out!"
Grace shrank back from being scolded, watching Jasper’s quickly disappearing figure through the door, stamping her foot in frustration, she sat back on the sofa, digging her nails into the palm of her hand...
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