Chapter 1 Wake Up To A New World

Icy water drenched Stella Carter, shocking her awake. She shook her aching head, and as her vision cleared, a deep frown settled on her face.

"She's awake, boss," a male voice said.

Stella glanced around the derelict warehouse, finding herself surrounded by a group of muscular thugs, their eyes cold and dangerous.

"Just bad luck," the boss said. "Once we get the money, we'll take care of you both." He then walked out with his crew to smoke and play cards outside.

Hearing that, Stella turned and met the wide, frightened eyes of a little boy tied up next to her.

The boy was small and pale, maybe four or five years old. A cloth gag filled his mouth, and tears welled up under his long lashes, falling in heavy drops as he stared at her helplessly.

Stella took a long, steadying breath.

Even for someone sharp like her, waking up in a new life to this was beyond belief. She was kidnapped, and to make it worse, she had no memory left.

Stella searched within herself, but her past was a blank slate. She knew her name. She knew she was clever and strong. But that was all.

There was a soft pop-pop as Stella dislocated her wrist and slipped her hand free of the ropes.

The boy next to her paled, forgetting to cry as he watched her reset the joint with another quick, precise twist.

Without a word, Stella reached over and untied him.

Her gaze shifted to the steel pipe the kidnappers had tossed in the corner. A sudden coldness filled the air around her, dropping the temperature in the warehouse with it.

A deep, restless anger tightened in her chest. She needed to move, to let it out.

"At least there's one good thing," she murmured to herself, striding over to lift the steel pipe before turning toward the door.

*****

Far away, on Sandridge Island, the sky hung low and gray.

A hall stood crowded with people, every gaze nervously fixed on the young man seated alone on a leather sofa. He was Sebastian Gray, and no one dared look away.

He wore a simple black shirt, open at the collar. A cigarette glowed between his fingers, its smoke softening the lines of his face.

A string of black prayer beads hung from his wrist.

In front of Sebastian, a man was pinned to the floor.

"Who told you to do this?" Sebastian asked, his voice cool and even.

At his feet, a massive white python slid in slow, silent curves across the floor, its tongue flicking out. The scene was cold and unnatural, a mirror to Sebastian himself.

While he spoke, the python moved onto the sofa and rested its broad head on his thigh.

The man on the floor seemed to collapse in on himself, too terrified to speak a word.

Sebastian's expression didn't change as he slid the beads from his wrist. The simple action sent a chill through the room, and no one dared to make a sound.

He reached down to stroke the python's head, totally unaware of the suffocating weight of his presence.

"Are you hungry?" Sebastian asked, his voice quiet.

The moment he finished speaking, two men stepped forward and hauled the prisoner away.

"Mercy, Mr. Gray. Just one chance..." the voice pleaded desperately, trailing off until nothing remained but silence.

"Mr. Gray, we've got a location," said a bodyguard in black as he stepped quietly to Sebastian's side.

Sebastian's only nephew was missing, and this was the kind of trouble that could turn the world upside down.

When Sebastian looked up, a cold, sharp fear shot through the bodyguard, freezing him where he stood.

"We'll be there in thirty minutes," Sebastian said coldly.

*****

In the old warehouse, the brief but brutal fight was just over.

Stella sat in the only undamaged chair, working the stiffness from her neck with a blank expression. The steel pipe in her hand scraped slowly across the concrete floor, the sound grating and sharp.

She was quiet, her eyes fixed on some distant point.

The once-bold kidnappers now were sprawled on the floor with their hands up, their faces bruised and tear-streaked. They flinched visibly each time the pipe scraped against the ground.

They never thought she'd be this tough. Now they just felt stupid.

Stella sat where the light barely reached, which only made her seem more formidable.

Suddenly, a quiet shuffling sound came from behind her.

It would stop, then start again, full of hesitation.

Then she felt a small, hesitant pull on her sleeve.

Stella went still and looked down to meet the boy's eyes.

He gave her a shy, hopeful smile. With his eyes still red from crying and his long lashes, he looked utterly precious. Sensing his own charm, he leaned his cheek softly into her palm.

"What's your name?" Stella asked, gently pinching his nose.

He didn't answer. Instead, he smiled again, took her hand, and began to write letters carefully on her palm.

"Lucas Gray?" she read his name, realizing he couldn't speak.

When he heard his name, Lucas's face brightened. He quickly held out a tiny phone to her.

He had somehow kept it hidden all along.

The moment Stella took it, the phone rang, the screen flashing "Gray." Without thinking, she pressed it to her ear.

"Had enough fun?" came the low, smooth voice from the other end.

Stella's eyebrow lifted slightly. "Mr. Gray," she said, clearing her throat. "Your kid is with me."

There was only silence from the other side.

Stella, lost in the call, took no notice of the men sprawled on the floor ahead of her. They were staring past her now, their faces ghostly white.

"Is that so?" The words were quiet, but the air in the room grew heavy and still.

"Of course..." Stella began to reply into the phone. Then she paused when she realized that the voice hadn't come from the receiver. It had come from directly behind her.

She turned, and her eyes met a cold, steady gaze.

Stella had to admit, Sebastian was the most striking man she had ever seen.

He stood backlit, a cold outline against the light. Men in dark suits flanked him, but he alone seemed carved from ice, distant and utterly untouchable.

As he lifted his hand, she noticed the black prayer beads around his wrist.

A piercing headache tore through Stella's mind, shattering her focus.

"John," Sebastian said, his voice a cold whisper.

Before Stella could react, a shadow moved behind her. A sharp strike landed on her neck, and she fell, darkness swallowing her whole.

*****

The next morning, Stella stirred in her sleep, feeling something cool and smooth slide against her leg.

A soft, threatening hiss sounded in the quiet room.

She reached out sleepily to push it away, but the moment her fingers touched its skin, her eyes shot open.

She froze as her vision cleared. In the soft morning light, she was staring directly into the black gaze of a huge white python lying right next to her on the bed. It flicked its tongue with a quiet hiss.

"You're awake," Sebastian said.

Chapter 2 A Pet Python

Stella turned toward the sound.

Sebastian sat in the morning light, wearing only a black robe tied loosely at the waist. He was holding a cup of coffee, his long legs stretched out as he read a file open on his lap.

A strand of dark beads hung from his wrist. They swayed gently, giving him a quiet stillness that felt ancient and unreadable.

Stella took him in, and for a moment, she just stared. Then she snapped back to herself, the defiance returning to her eyes as she pressed her tongue to the back of her teeth.

"You..." she began.

He looked up then, and their eyes met. That was all it took. The memory of what happened right before she was knocked out rushed back to her in a single, vivid wave.

The large python shifted slowly on the bed, its size making its movements look heavy and almost harmless.

"Snowball," Sebastian said, his voice low and cold.

Stella stared. To her, a man who kept a pet python and gave it a cute name like Snowball was clearly out of the ordinary.

At Sebastian's call, the python slid down from the bed. It wound its way around his legs, coiled onto the sofa behind him, and settled its large head on his shoulder with a soft nudge.

"You're Lucas's father?" Stella asked.

Stella knew she had to explain. She wasn't the kidnapper, but a victim herself.

Sebastian stroked the python's head, his gaze locked on Stella's face as she spoke.

His expression was cool and unreadable, and the casual way he handled the massive python sent a shiver through her.

The folder on Sebastian's lap slipped to the floor, its contents spilling out. Photographs scattered across the tiles, and Stella's words died in her throat.

Every single picture was of her, from childhood through adolescence to recent months. It was a complete dossier on her life.

He had known she was innocent this whole time. Yet he'd sat there silently, letting her talk, when he'd had the truth in his lap all along.

It hit her then that he was testing her. His calculation ran deeper than she had imagined.

"Is this really fun for you, Mr. Gray?" Stella squinted, her slender frame slouched lazily against the headboard.

Sebastian didn't answer. He merely gestured toward the other side of the room.

Stella glanced toward where he pointed and met her own eyes in the mirror.

Her face was a mess of thick, smudged smoky makeup, her ears cluttered with several skull-shaped clips. It was pure punk overload.

She stared at the reflection, her fingers tracing the line of her brow. The cheap makeup was caked on thick, but beneath it all, the elegant lines of her face were still there. It gave her a look that was naturally cool and reserved.

"Mr. Gray..." She threw off the covers, stood up barefoot, and moved with a swagger. "I'm getting this off."

*****

In the bathroom, Stella cleared the fog from the mirror. Her flawless skin was flushed and dewy from the shower, giving her a fresh, delicate beauty.

Her face was bare, without a trace of makeup. In the stillness, her captivating eyes blinked slowly, their gaze catching the light with a faint, honeyed warmth.

She seemed calm, but there was a cool distance in her expression that kept people away.

A small mole rested on her collarbone.

Her hair, freshly dried, fell in soft, shiny waves all the way down her back.

Yet Stella's mind was empty. She knew her name, but nothing else about who she was.

After she got dressed and walked out, both Sebastian and the large white python were gone.

Only a mess of photos and files remained, scattered across the floor.

"Stella Carter... eighteen," she murmured to herself, her slender fingers turning the pages as she scanned the file's sparse lines.

The records stated she was a former student of Central High School, expelled just last week for failing grades and excessive absences. She had a reputation as a rebel, and her home life was reportedly strained.

It also revealed that her younger sister, Hazel Carter, attended Edenbury Academy, the city's most elite and costly private school.

Stella turned the page, and a chill settled in her eyes as she read that she was not the Carters' real daughter.

The Carters had known the truth all along, which was why they had always treated the two sisters so differently.

What made no sense was the money. The Carters were not wealthy, yet they managed to pay for Edenbury Academy's enormous fees year after year, a sum that ran into the millions.

She was still turning this over in her mind when a rapid, anxious knock came at her bedroom door.

"Ms. Carter!" came the tense voice of Jake Yates, Sebastian's other subordinate, as he pounded hard on the wood.

He started to speak again as the door suddenly opened from the inside.

His raised fist almost struck her, but Stella moved swiftly out of the way.

He froze, his words dying on his lips as he got a clear look at her face.

He stared, hardly believing this was the same girl Sebastian had brought home yesterday, the one with messy, smudged makeup. Now, she looked clear and quietly beautiful.

"So you're sending me away," Stella said, her voice steady and without much emotion.

Lucas was safe now. Even if Sebastian had said nothing, she would have been ready to go.

"Ms. Carter, please follow me," Jake said, shaking his head as he remembered his actual task.

The memory of Lucas's demolished room was enough to make his blood run cold.

He would gladly trade a month in combat for a single day of babysitting duty.

"Has something happened to him?" Stella asked, a sudden fear gripping her as she followed Jake to the elevator.

Lucas's room was on the third floor. When the elevator doors opened, a vase shot past them and exploded against the wall. The floor was a sea of wreckage, with no clear path through.

Stella stared, utterly speechless.

"He did this alone?" Stella asked, her voice a mix of disbelief and exhaustion. The devastation was absolute.

Jake could only give a stiff, helpless nod.

Stella turned and entered the room. The scene grew more chaotic with every step.

The servants stood quietly nearby, their silence a clear sign they had seen this all before.

"Bring in a fresh set for him to break," Sebastian ordered. His tone was icy and held no mercy for the five-year-old boy, cutting with a ruthless edge.

Soon, a servant was replacing the broken items on the shelves with new ones, each piece a costly antique.

Lucas grunted angrily, swinging his small fists to warn anyone who tried to come close.

The white python, Snowball, coiled protectively around Lucas, letting the boy rest against his scales.

Seeing Lucas on the verge of total exhaustion, Stella turned a cold glare toward Sebastian. "What is wrong with you?" she demanded.

Stella's expression tightened as Lucas started to move, her eyes flashing with immediate concern.

He was barefoot on a floor littered with glass. One wrong step could cut him.

"Stay where you are. I'm coming to you," she said firmly.

As Stella approached, Lucas's face lit up for a moment before his eyes glistened with tears.

His chin trembled as he reached his small hands out to her.

Chapter 3 Paid To Stay

Silent sobs shook Lucas's little frame, tears now flowing freely down his cheeks. His need for comfort was clear.

"Do not pick him up," Sebastian ordered, his icy voice cutting through the room and deepening the tension.

Stella acted as if she hadn't heard him. She leaned down, shielding Lucas's ears with her hands, and whispered softly to him, "Ignore that weirdo."

Jake was trying to ease his way out of the room when his brother John shot him a look that could freeze fire. He stopped moving at once, his face settling into a resigned frown.

He was trapped. When forces like these clashed, the bystanders never fared well.

"Stella," Sebastian said, a slow and dangerous smile crossing his face. He had never met anyone brave enough to defy him so openly.

"You're not a young man, Mr. Gray. Why bother fighting with a child?" Stella's voice was laced with clear sarcasm.

She easily lifted Lucas into her arms and held him close, all while giving Sebastian a sharp, challenging look.

Sebastian's expression turned cold, his eyes fixed on her with a dark, unyielding intensity.

A heavy silence fell over the room. Everyone watching held their breath, sharing the same silent thought that Stella was either fearless or foolish.

A long moment passed before Sebastian finally moved, just a slight shift of his fingers. It was enough. The tension broke, and everyone around them let out a slow, collective breath. The sudden shift in tension felt utterly surreal.

Servants rushed forward, quietly clearing the wreckage from the floor before slipping out again.

With Lucas in her arms, Stella turned to leave.

As Stella turned to leave, John blocked her path at the door. "You have not been dismissed by Mr. Gray, Ms. Carter," he stated flatly.

Stella recognized him immediately as the man who had knocked her unconscious in the warehouse. She regarded him with a thoughtful look.

Lucas huffed and tried to bite at John's hand, but Stella gently caught his chin and held his mouth closed.

Lucas blinked, and then tilted his head to the side, looking suddenly as soft and harmless as a baby bird.

"Alright. I'm not going," Stella replied calmly. She carried Lucas back into the room and took a seat directly facing Sebastian.

As she sat, a quiet realization stopped her. Sebastian was in a wheelchair, a detail she had missed until now. This didn't fit, since she clearly remembered him standing in that warehouse.

She wondered if her memory was playing tricks on her.

"You've never asked my name," Sebastian said, his voice low. His eyes, steady and inscrutable, stayed fixed on Stella.

His face revealed nothing, his sharp, handsome features a mask of cool control. He held himself with the calm authority of someone accustomed to being in charge.

Jake's eyes lit up at the comment. He instinctively glanced toward John with an openly curious look.

John answered with another sharp look, a clear command for his brother to stop.

"Does it matter?" Stella said without thinking, her face showing her genuine confusion.

An uncomfortable silence filled the room.

A moment later, sensing her own bluntness, she added with a casual shrug, "I'm leaving soon anyway. Does it even matter what your name is, Mr. Gray?"

The air in the room seemed to grow even heavier.

Jake hunched his shoulders slightly, watching Stella. In his eyes, her manner was straightforward to the point of being almost tactless.

Sebastian's voice was quiet. "I didn't give you permission to go."

He watched her with a look that felt too deep, too knowing. His hand moved slowly over the python's head as it lay across his lap, the gesture steady and unnervingly patient.

Stella's face showed nothing, but she was listening, weighing each word.

Then a contract was set down in front of her.

"Stay and look after him," he said. "The offer is thirty million dollars." He said it plainly, as if naming a price for an ordinary service.

Stella remained silent, though her lashes lowered for a beat.

Sebastian didn't press her. He simply twisted the python's tail in his fingers, his attention drifting back to her delicate face now and then. Something shifted behind his calm expression, a quiet intensity she couldn't read.

Lucas tilted his head back, blinking his wide, bright eyes up at Stella. He nuzzled his soft, curly hair against her hand in a little plea for affection.

A wave of regret washed over him for his earlier outburst, and he worried that he might have scared her.

He wondered if she thought he was a bad kid now.

"All of your needs will be taken care of," Sebastian stated. "Your only job is to stay here with him."

Noticing Lucas's genuine unhappiness, Sebastian narrowed his eyes slightly.

Sensing the shift in atmosphere, Snowball slipped swiftly from Sebastian's lap and retreated to a corner, coiling itself into a tight, defensive loop.

"John..." Jake leaned in close to John, his voice barely above a whisper. "Trust me, after watching a ton of dramas, I can already see it.

"Ms. Carter is gonna shove that contract right in Mr. Gray's face, yell 'You think money can buy me?', and run out crying."

John ignored him completely.

As Sebastian's most trusted man, John knew his duty. If Sebastian wanted her to stay, John would make it happen by any means necessary.

"You..." Stella looked up, her voice quiet but steady. Her expression was impossible to read.

Jake nudged John, his eyes bright with expectation.

Sebastian's presence was cold and absolute. Even seated in the wheelchair, he was no less intimidating.

"You have to give me a pen," she said simply. A signature required a pen, and there was none.

Everyone looked at the empty space on the table beside the contract. There was no pen.

Sebastian turned his head toward Jake, who had brought the papers. His handsome face showed no feeling, his gaze as flat and dismissive as if Jake were furniture.

A silent cry for help flashed in Jake's mind as he braced himself for the consequences.

A pen was quickly brought forward. Stella took it, letting it roll once through her fingers in a smooth, practiced motion before holding it still.

She looked directly at Sebastian and said, "Mr. Gray, let me ask you one last question...

"Are you really willing to pay thirty million to keep me here with Lucas, even if I might cause trouble for you later?"

It was a choice she was leaving in his hands.

Even without her memories, something deep inside assured her that she always kept her promises.

Payment meant responsibility.

Sebastian's reply was immediate and straightforward. In one smooth motion, he slid a black bank card across the table toward her. It was an unlimited account, loaded with thirty million dollars.

"The pin is six zeroes," he said, his voice calm and steady.

A small smile touched Stella's lips, and her eyes seemed to brighten. "I have one more condition, though."

"Name it," Sebastian replied. His handsome face remained completely impassive, even as she raised the stakes.

"My condition is admission to Edenbury Academy," Stella said. That elite academy was her price, and she would not be refused.

"Deal," Sebastian replied, sounding like he'd been waiting for her to ask.

His swift agreement settled it. Stella took the pen and signed. "A deal, then."

From that moment on, she saw him as her sponsor.

"Mr. Gray," John's voice cut in, sharp with urgency. "Your grandmother is in the hospital."

The atmosphere in the room turned.

Chapter 4 Go To The Hospital

A cold stillness fell, radiating from Sebastian until the very air felt brittle.

"Go on," Sebastian said, the words a low command.

"Someone told your grandmother about the kidnapping. She collapsed on the spot, her heart giving out from the shock. They've taken her to the hospital," John replied.

His eyes flicked toward Sebastian before he spoke again, his voice lowered, "It doesn't look good."

As she processed the information, Stella felt Lucas grow tense and fearful in her arms. He was whimpering softly against her.

A suffocating tension filled the room, pressing down on everyone until it was almost unbearable.

Just as the silence became too much to endure, Sebastian finally gave the order. "Have the car brought around. We're going to the hospital."

Stella had hoped to stay behind, but Sebastian glanced at her and shattered that hope. "You're going with Lucas."

She accepted it quietly, reasoning that the person who paid was the one who made the rules.

*****

A black Maybach glided smoothly along the highway. Its custom interior was quiet and comfortable.

Stella watched the world pass by outside her window. Had she not just been there, she never would have believed they had come from a private island.

The fact that Sebastian owned an entire island made her wonder just who he really was.

But she had no time to dwell on it. The moment Sebastian settled into the car, she could tell something was wrong.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

His gaze was heavy and shadowed. The chronic pain in his head, worn thin from years of sleepless nights, was sharpening into something violent.

A dangerous stillness had entered his eyes, and even Lucas had sensed the tension.

"Your pills, Mr. Gray," Jake said quickly from the front seat, turning to pass a small bottle back.

Before he could deliver it, the car hit a rut. The bottle slipped from his hand and rolled across the floor, stopping near Stella's foot.

She looked down at the bottle, noticing that the label was in a foreign language.

She recognized the class of medication. It was for the mind.

"Could you get that, Ms. Carter?" Jake mouthed, his expression pleading as he pressed his hands together in a silent appeal.

Stella picked it up and held it out to Sebastian. "Here."

In the next instant, Sebastian's hand closed firmly around hers, trapping both her fingers and the bottle in his grip.

Stella looked down at their linked hands but said nothing.

A moment later, Sebastian released her hand and took the medicine bottle without even glancing her way.

Then he rolled down the window and tossed the bottle out.

'He is not right in the head,' Stella thought to herself.

"Drive faster," Sebastian ordered. He leaned back heavily into the leather seat and closed his eyes, his brows pulled together tightly.

"Yes, sir," John answered from the front.

*****

Half an hour earlier, the emergency wing of the private hospital had been sealed off by a cordon of armed guards. No one was getting through.

The news had leaked, and reporters were already gathered outside, their camera flashes lighting up the scene.

"We pay your wages," a shrill voice declared. "How dare you keep the family matriarch from entering?"

Linda Gray held the arm of an elderly woman in a tailored dress, her own posture full of disdain. With a dismissive sway of her hips, she tried to push past the guards.

The woman she was pulling along was Sophia Chapman. Her silver hair was swept into a soft bun, and her simple white dress carried a calm grace that made Linda's tense urgency seem all the more jarring.

They were halted just steps from the door.

"Do you not see who is here?" Linda said, her voice sharp.

Before Linda could utter another word, the air behind them turned cold and dense with warning.

The fight went out of her at once. She turned to find herself locked in a stare that felt fatal.

The wheelchair did nothing to lessen the effect.

"S-Sebastian," she managed, her voice a thin whisper. "You're here."

Sebastian sat still, a dark blanket covering his lap. His face was too pale, and the shadows beneath his eyes were deep and bruised.

"What did you call me?" Sebastian asked, turning his gaze toward Linda.

The look was so sharp that it made her legs go weak.

Stella watched the reporters from behind Sebastian's wheelchair. Now she understood why he had arranged for Lucas to be taken straight inside.

"Bring them all over here," Sebastian ordered in a flat, calm voice, but Stella could feel something cold and dangerous lying just beneath his quiet surface.

The reporters were quickly ushered toward him.

It had been years since the incident, and though Sebastian had kept out of sight since then, his reputation had never faded.

"Don't worry, Mr. Gray. Every photo will be destroyed," one reporter said quickly, his voice shaking.

They stood there trembling, knowing their jobs weren't worth their lives.

Sebastian stayed quiet, his long fingers slowly spinning the dark beads around his wrist.

The soft clack of the beads was steady, a measured sound. It was the rhythm of Sebastian keeping a darker impulse in check.

Stella's gaze settled on the beads, and for a moment, she seemed lost in thought.

Then the room filled with a shared, silent gasp.

Her hand, cool and delicate, came to rest over his, stilling the beads beneath her touch.

Standing behind Linda, Sophia watched it all unfold, her sharp eyes taking careful note.

The tension around Sebastian dissolved as quickly as it had gathered.

When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet. "Let go." It was not the violent reaction everyone had feared.

"Oh, okay," she said and withdrew her hand without pause.

"There is only one matriarch in this family," Sebastian said, his voice low but carrying clearly. "Let that be clear in your accounts."

Jake, a wall of muscle, crushed the reporters' cameras under his boot, making Sebastian's point for him.

The reporters scrambled away without a second thought for their ruined gear. They were simply grateful to escape with their lives.

Linda gritted her teeth as she watched them go, furious but silent. She knew better than to cause a scene.

After all, money meant nothing if she wasn't alive to spend it.

"Sebastian," said Sophia, her voice gentle. Her posture was still elegant, a quiet reminder of the beauty she once was.

"Excuse us," Stella said, not letting her finish. She pushed the wheelchair forward and nearly ran over Linda's foot.

"Watch where you're going!" Linda shrieked, jumping back. The limited-edition Louis Vuitton heels she wore had just arrived that morning, and damaging them would cost far more than she could ever pay back.

Stella stopped and looked at her. The gaze was cool, the kind that seemed to leave no room for lies.

"Very touching. You wore your best shoes to visit the sick," Stella observed, her tone dry and unimpressed.

Linda's face colored with shame. She turned helplessly to Sophia.

"Sophia..." she said, her voice tight.

"Aren't you a bit old to be calling for your elder?" Stella asked, the remark perfectly aimed.

She then gave the wheelchair a gentle push and moved past them without another glance.

*****

Sebastian watched the numbers climb in the quiet elevator. When he finally broke the silence, his voice was low. "You had no right to speak for me."

Stella leaned down, her hands coming to rest on the arms of his chair. "A 'thank you' would be more appropriate," she said, meeting his cold stare without flinching.

He was close enough now that she could see the surprising length of his lashes, dark against his skin.

Jake tried his best to disappear into the corner.

Finally, the elevator doors opened with a quiet chime.

Chapter 5 I Can Help Her

Without a word to Sebastian, Stella stepped out of the elevator first, her hands behind her back.

"M-Mr. Gray..." Jake said quietly.

The thought that Stella might have just flirted with him flashed through Jake's mind.

Sebastian's cold glance was enough to silence Jake and send a chill down his back.

*****

Outside the VIP suite, a doctor spoke to Carlos Gray, Sebastian's grandfather, "I'm sorry. We tried everything, but Annette was brought to us too late and has suffered brain damage.

"The medical team agrees that if she doesn't regain consciousness by tonight, we will have to announce brain death."

The doctor was Emily Chase, a longtime family friend of the Grays and one of the country's most accomplished young surgeons.

She removed her mask and let out a tired sigh.

Carlos's cane clattered to the floor. He staggered back, the world swimming before his eyes.

The hall was loud with the cries of the Gray family relatives. Some of the grief looked real, some did not.

"Lucas is a Jinx," Lauren Gray's voice carried over the noise. "Every disaster in this house starts with him."

She pressed a handkerchief that smelled of onion to her eyes, summoning a convincing veil of tears. Through them, she managed to catch her brother Richard Gray's gaze where he stood near Carlos.

After the scandal years ago, their mother, Sophia, had brought them to claim their place as Carlos's children. It was only his wife Annette's fierce opposition that had kept them from being formally recognized all this time.

Now, they saw their chance.

"Dad," Lauren said, her eyes glistening as she looked at Carlos. "You must remove Lucas from the family. Before he brings ruin to us all."

"Is that so?" The quiet question dropped into the room like ice, stopping all sound.

Sebastian's wheelchair rolled forward from the dim edge of the hall. Every face in the family went pale, and the air filled with the sound of stunned breath catching in throats.

"Sebastian," Carlos began, rising quickly to his feet. But the words died in his throat as he met Sebastian's cold stare.

The wheelchair stopped in front of Lauren.

"Look at me," Sebastian said, his voice cold and dangerous. "And say that again."

Lauren was so terrified that her knees buckled. She fell hard to the floor before him, her face damp with cold sweat.

"Who else would like to suggest removing Lucas from the family?" he asked the room.

Sebastian began to turn the black prayer beads around his wrist, his eyes moving slowly across the silent crowd. No one dared meet his gaze.

It was common knowledge that Sebastian only removed those beads when he intended to draw blood.

Just as Sebastian was about to remove his prayer beads, a moment that promised violence, Emily's sharp scream came from Annette's private ward. "What are you doing?"

He went still. Every head turned toward the room.

Its door was now open.

Emily called out clearly from inside, "Carlos, I saw her. She had a needle. She was going to put it in Annette's head."

Within, Stella stood with her wrist caught in Emily's grasp, a silver needle still visible in her hand.

Lucas clung to Emily's coat, his small face distressed.

Carlos's anger found a new target. "Who are you?" he demanded. "What is this?"

John, pushing Sebastian's wheelchair, saw Stella and frowned. He was certain she was causing trouble.

Stella's gaze shifted to Sebastian. Her expression smoothed into perfect calm. "Mr. Gray," she said, her voice so steady that it sounded almost detached.

Emily suddenly cried out in pain when Lucas bit her wrist. She let go of Stella immediately.

"You want her to wake up, don't you?" Stella said, pausing briefly. "I can do it."

The room erupted into whispers.

"Are you a doctor?" Emily asked coldly, still cradling her injured wrist.

"No," Stella replied flatly.

"Do you have a license to practice?" Emily pressed.

"No," Stella repeated the word.

Each answer made Emily more scornful. To her, Stella was nothing more than a delusional girl looking for attention.

"Who trained you, then?" Emily asked, her tone thick with sarcasm.

"I just learned," Stella replied, totally unfazed.

Emily didn't hide her contempt this time. She laughed outright. "You really have no idea what you're saying."

Emily found the claim absurd. 'If she's going to make up a story, she might as well have claimed to be a medical genius,' she scoffed to herself.

"Enough," John said quietly, his patience gone. "This isn't a game, Ms. Carter."

He knew better than anyone what Annette meant to Sebastian. To treat her life as a trivial matter was beyond understanding.

"It's not a game," Stella said, her voice low and steady. For the first time, a hard certainty filled her eyes.

She didn't know how she knew, but when she saw Annette, the knowledge came to her with quiet certainty. She could picture exactly where to place the needles, how deep, and at what angle.

"I can help her," Stella said, her gaze locked with Sebastian's. His face gave nothing away, a storm held in check.

"Take her," Carlos ordered, his voice thick with a rage that promised violence.

Before anyone could touch Stella, Lucas stepped in front of Stella, his small body tense and a silent warning growling in his throat.

Sebastian didn't shift. He only raised his eyes to the men advancing on Stella, and the room went still with sudden threat.

"I mean it, Sebastian," Stella said, her words spoken with quiet force.

Stella knew what Annette meant to Lucas and Sebastian. She wasn't one to make promises lightly, but here, she had no proof to offer.

"That's enough," Emily cut in, her voice tight. "Just who do you think you are? A handful of needles? You might as well say you can wake her up right now."

The audacity almost made Emily laugh. 'Does she think she's Shark?' she thought bitterly.

Shark was a freelance surgeon, a medical genius with no ties to any hospital. She was the only doctor in the world with a certified perfect record, and stories claimed her silver needles could work miracles.

She was famously difficult and charged impossible prices, and no one even knew what she looked like. Yet the world's most powerful people still begged for her help.

"You know the cost of failure," Sebastian said, his eyes steady and cold, the air growing heavy as he spoke.

"Mr. Gray!" Emily stared at him in disbelief.

Even Carlos looked shocked.

In the corner, Richard and Lauren exchanged a look of quiet victory.

If Annette died by Stella's hand, their mother's position would be secured, and the family fortune would shift in their direction.

"Mr. Gray, please reconsider it," John said, his voice urgent.

He couldn't bear the thought of leaving Annette's fate in the hands of someone so inexperienced.

Stella looked back at Sebastian, a faint, sure smile on her face. She pulled her hair up into a loose knot with a shark-topped hair tie, and then carefully sterilized the needle.

Her hands moved with a quiet competence that looked strange on someone so young.

John's heart hammered in his chest. "Mr. Gray," he said, his voice strained.

Under the watchful eyes of everyone, Stella carefully inserted a silver needle into Annette's scalp.

Chapter 6 Annette Was Awake

"You're insane," Emily hissed. The sight of Stella actually inserting the needle sent a jolt of rage through her.

Without a second thought, she grabbed for Stella's wrist, careless of Annette lying on the bed.

Before Emily could make contact, Stella's free hand came up, a second silver needle held steady just before Emily's eye.

"Move again, and I'll blind you," Stella warned coldly without looking back. Everyone could see she wasn't joking.

Without turning her head, Stella seemed to sense every move Emily made. The silver needle in her hand tracked Emily's slightest shift, never wavering.

Emily froze, a bead of cold sweat tracing a line down her temple.

Every eye in the room was fixed on Stella's hands as she worked. Only Sebastian was looking elsewhere.

His eyes, sharp and unreadable, moved from the shark charm on her hair tie to the quiet certainty on her face.

His thumb brushed a bead on his wrist, but then the soft click of the beads made his hand go still.

He kept his thoughts to himself, his expression giving nothing away.

"You'll regret this, Mr. Gray," Emily said, her hands shoved into her coat pockets. Her face was a mask of haughty defiance, an attempt to cover the sting of public dismissal.

She was used to respect, not to being ignored.

Sebastian didn't even give her a glance, leaving her words to hang in the air.

Stella cleared her throat softly. "Lucas, come here," she said, her eyes finding him curled beside the wheelchair.

Lucas's small face was drawn with worry.

His eyes lit up the moment Stella called his name. He ran over and hugged her leg, looking up at her.

"I'm curious who told Mrs. Gray you were kidnapped," Stella said, her eyes cold as she looked around the room. "Let's see who really brings the bad luck."

Her gaze finally met Sebastian's across the silent room.

"I'll let Mrs. Gray speak for herself," Stella said quietly. Then a ragged gasp came from the bed.

Color slowly returned to Annette's gray face, as if life were flowing back into her. Her eyelids fluttered and opened slightly.

Jake stared, stunned that she was actually awake. He glanced at his brother, and even the usually impassive John looked shocked.

"This can't be," Emily whispered, her confidence shattered. She had given the diagnosis herself. The chance of Annette waking up had been virtually zero.

But now, against all odds, Annette was awake.

The hospital director arrived with several senior staff, and the room soon filled with onlookers.

"It's not possible," Emily insisted, her voice sharp with denial.

But the steady beep of the monitors told a different story.

"Annette!" Lauren's face drained of color at the sight of Annette awake. Panic flickered in her eyes as she took a sudden step toward the bed.

"John," Sebastian said, the single word quietly cutting through the air.

John shook off his own surprise. His expression hardened as he stepped forward to block the doorway, barring Lauren, Richard, and Carlos from coming any closer.

"Lucas," Annette whispered, her voice frail. Tears gathered in her eyes at the sight of him.

Seeing him there, safe and close, filled her with a quiet, profound relief.

Stella leaned against the window, her delicate face blank. The focus that had held her rigid was gone, leaving behind a deep, lazy exhaustion.

"Grandma," Sebastian said softly.

Jake wheeled Sebastian to the bedside.

The dangerous air that had clung to Sebastian moments before was gone, replaced by a quiet stillness that made him seem like someone else entirely.

Stella watched him, her head tilted slightly. The shift was so unexpected that it made her smile.

Sebastian paused and looked up at her.

A soft breeze stirred the white curtains of the private suite, wrapping Stella in soft light. Her lips held a faint, natural color, and the quiet smile that played across them was simply lovely.

"Who told you Lucas was kidnapped?" Sebastian asked, his voice low and careful, as he took Annette's hand.

Annette was clearly exhausted. The effort of speaking earlier had drained her, but at Sebastian's words, she still managed to turn her gaze toward Lauren.

Then her eyes closed, and she fell back into a faint.

Lucas whimpered as he watched Annette drift off. He trembled and turned to Stella, seeking comfort.

Jake silently braced himself for Lucas's impending outburst.

"She's all right," Stella said, her voice calm. She walked over and gave Lucas's head a soft pat, reassuring him, "She's just sleeping."

Lucas went still. He sniffed once, and then settled down quietly beside Annette.

He curled up small, a hand sometimes straying out to touch Annette's face, checking for breath.

The danger passed as quickly as it had come.

To Jake, Stella seemed guided by something beyond them all. Without her, the entire Gray family might have met its end today.

He pictured the chaos that could have been and shook his head in silent judgment. 'They owed her more than they could ever repay,' he thought.

"Use your own medicine if you wish," Stella said. "But the needles stay where they are for seven days."

She stifled a yawn. What had looked simple had actually taken almost everything she had.

"And if we remove the needles?" the director asked, curious.

A quick check left him stunned. Annette's vital signs were improving so fast that it seemed miraculous.

The team of specialists had already written her off. It was only out of deference to the Grays that Emily had phrased things more gently.

Everyone looked at Stella, waiting for her answer.

Stella's expression went perfectly blank. A chill ran through the room as she returned the director's stare with a coldness that felt dangerous.

"Try it," she said. Her voice was soft, but the warning in it was clear.

Sebastian glanced at Jake, who took the hint right away. Within moments, security was arranged to guard the room day and night. No one would disturb Annette's recovery.

Stella pulled out the hair tie, and her silky hair fell loose around her.

A few strands brushed against Sebastian's hand, a light, fleeting touch.

His fingers shifted slightly, but he said nothing.

"Mr. Gray," she said, her voice breaking the quiet. "Thanks for believing me. I owe you a drink."

She leaned back against the wall, eyes down, hands tucked in her pockets. A faint, careless smile touched her lips, a mix of laziness and something quietly defiant.

Chapter 7 Her Words Shocked Everyone

In the café downstairs from the hospital, the barista stared as Stella poured six shots of syrup into her iced coffee.

Stella took a long drink, her expression one of relaxed weariness that was oddly magnetic.

The cup met the counter with a soft thud, the ice inside clinking crisply.

Her gaze drifted to the window, where a stern-looking older gentleman sat with a set of twins.

One twin, a girl, looked pale and listless. The boy was fidgeting and flushed, full of restless energy.

Stella watched the boy's legs for a silent moment.

The old man turned sharply, his silent command filling the space. Before he could utter a word, the door chimed.

Linda swept in, the distinct click of her designer heels marking her direct, unhesitating path toward Stella.

"You have some nerve for a girl your age," Linda said, her eyes sweeping over Stella with open disdain. With Sebastian out of the room, she saw no need for pretense. To her, Stella was just a fleeting distraction.

Stella watched, one eyebrow raised, as Linda pulled a thin cigarette from her designer bag and held it ready.

"So, how much do you want? Name your price," Linda said casually.

"What are you even talking about, old witch?" Stella replied, her voice cool and dismissive.

"What did you call me?" Linda's face flushed with anger. She looked ready to attack.

"Don't think Sebastian can protect you," Linda sneered, her earlier fear around Sebastian completely gone. "Ever since his legs were ruined, plenty of people have been waiting for him to die. And now he's stuck with a kid who can't even speak."

Her gaze swept over Stella, her lips making a faint, disapproving sound that did little to hide the sharp envy beneath it.

She had to admit Stella's face was flawless.

Unnoticed by either woman, John stood in the corner with his phone aimed their way. The live feed was streaming straight to Sebastian's screen.

In the hospital hallway, Sebastian watched the screen from the shadows. A cold, quiet rage seemed to thicken the air around his wheelchair.

Jake swallowed, his legs unsteady. He could only hope, desperately, that Stella wouldn't choose the wrong words.

The standoff at the café table dragged on.

"Would you say that to his face?" Stella asked, her voice calm.

She tapped the counter once for a refill. The sunlight caught her hands, warming them with a soft glow as she settled back, completely at ease.

"It would be a shame for a face like yours to be ruined by a madman like Sebastian," Linda said, her smile cold.

"A madman?" Stella repeated quietly, turning the word over in her mind.

"You really don't know?" Linda asked, her voice dropping as if she were telling a secret, meant to draw Stella in.

"Sebastian has always been drawn to bloodshed," she continued. "After that one incident, he lost what little sanity he had left. Do you honestly think you're safe with him?"

Linda's words sparked a quiet curiosity in Stella. She wondered what incident Linda could possibly be referring to.

"Give me information on him, and I'll pay you 300 thousand dollars. Help me when I ask, and I'll arrange for you to study abroad." Linda lit a cigarette and took a slow drag. "What do you think?"

Stella looked like she could still be in high school. Linda didn't know how she'd gotten involved with Sebastian, but to her mind, a girl that young should be simple enough to manage.

From his corner, John watched the exchange with cool interest, waiting to see which way Stella would lean.

"300 thousand dollars," Stella repeated, her expression going briefly distant, as if the figure had genuinely surprised her.

Linda smiled to herself. This was proving easier than she'd thought.

"Is 300 thousand really a lot of money?" Stella said flatly, giving her cup a gentle turn.

"Of course it is," Linda answered smoothly. To her, 300 thousand was just the price of a few salon visits, a small, worthwhile cost to place an informant close to Sebastian.

"But old witch, do you know how much Mr. Gray pays me?" Stella asked, leaning in with a soft smile, her captivating eyes locking onto Linda's.

"How much?" Linda leaned in, the cigarette loose between her fingers. Her eagerness made her forget the earlier insult entirely.

Instead of an answer, Stella poured the iced coffee over Linda's head. The air filled with the sharp, sweet-and-bitter scent of coffee and syrup.

Linda shrieked and covered her face.

"You bitch!" Linda made a grab for Stella, but Stella was faster. She kicked Linda squarely in the stomach.

Linda collapsed to the floor, gasping in pain.

The café fell silent. In the corner, John's hand holding his phone trembled a little.

He winced inwardly, certain the blow had been painful.

"Even if he is a madman, it's not for you to say," Stella said, clicking her tongue against her teeth. Her innocent expression vanished, replaced by clear annoyance.

Stella wasn't about to let anyone, least of all Linda, disrespect her golden goose.

To her, Sebastian represented her future security.

"As long as I'm around, no one touches him," Stella said, her voice cold and commanding as she looked down at Linda.

On top of everything else, Linda had the nerve to smoke indoors, a habit Stella considered deeply rude.

"He's my..." Stella said in a low, possessive voice.

Before Sebastian could hear the rest of the sentence, the live video cut out.

In the hospital hallway, he remained perfectly still, staring at the silent screen in his hand. The dangerous tension that had been clinging to him simply vanished.

Jake, who had been holding his breath in fear, finally let out a slow, quiet breath.

'She's got nerve,' Jake thought, his heart pounding. 'Calling Mr. Gray hers like that? It's so cringe-worthy. What's he going to do to her when she gets back?'

Back in the café, Stella's declaration "He's my..." was enough to make John drop his phone in shock. As it clattered to the floor, he distinctly heard her finish the sentence with the words "golden goose".

He stared at the dark screen, uncertain whether he should tell Sebastian she'd said that.

"You're going to pay for this, you little witch!" Linda shrieked, her voice piercing as she stood there, soaked and sticky.

Stella met her rage with a cold smile and a single, raised middle finger.

She was curious to see how exactly Linda planned to make her pay.

"He'll pay for the mess," Stella said, gesturing toward John. She then walked past Linda and headed for the door.

John stared after her, taken aback by the sudden realization that she'd been aware of his presence the whole time.

Just before leaving, Stella seemed to remember something. She turned back toward the dignified old man.