Chapter 84

Stella's POV

I found a quiet corner, desperate for a moment of solitude.The constant smiles and small talk had become exhausting and I needed to escape the curious stares that followed me and Adam throughout the evening.

Leaning against the wall, I pulled out my phone and mindlessly scrolled through Instagram. My finger paused mid-swipe when a familiar username caught my eye: "GRACE." I tapped on the profile and immediately recognized it as Grace Davis's account.

Her latest post made my blood run cold.

It was a photo of an exquisite Indian mask, intricately handcrafted with vibrant colors and delicate featherwork. But it wasn't the mask itself that made my stomach drop-it was the caption:

【Made by ADAM! Happy!】 I stared at the post, reading those four simple words over and over until they blurred before my eyes. The memory of my own request rose unbidden in my mind. "There's a private shop in Toronto that makes custom Indian masks. Maybe you could make one for me?"

Adam had barely acknowledged my request, and I'd quickly backpedaled, asking for maple tea instead-which he had dutifully delivered. I'd been disappointed but uinderstanding.After all, why would a busy CEO like Adam Lancaster have time for handcrafting anything?

Except, apparently, he did have time. Just not for me.

A bubble of hysterical laughter rose in my throat. How pathetic I was, standing here feeling betrayed over a handmade mask.What did I expect? That Adam wouldn't have relationships with other women? That I was somehow special to him?

He only had no spare time for you. And yet you still had expectations!

I felt like I couldn't breathe, like a wad of cotton was being stuffed down my throat, blocking mny airway and pressing against my heart. The elegant party around me suddenly felt stifling, the soft music grating against my nerves.

Without thinking. I grabbed a flute of champagne from a passing server, raising it to my lips. The rational part of my brain reminded me I shouldn't mix alcohol with my medication,but the emotional part didn't care. I just wanted to numb this unexpected pain. "Planning to make a scene at someone else's party?"Adam's cool voice cut through my emotional spiral. His hand captured my wrist before the champagne could touch my lips.his grip firm but not painful.

Sanity rushed back, and I lowered the glass, embarrassed by my impulsive behavior. "I wasn't thinking."

Adam took the champagne flute from my hand and placed it on a nearby table. His fingers remained wrapped around my wrist, his thumb absently stroking the sensitive skin on the inside of my arm.

"Who upset Mrs. Lancaster?" he asked, his tone lighter but his eyes sharp and observant.

"No one," I replied, turning my head away to avoid his penetrating gaze. I couldn't let him see the truth-that he was the one who had upset me, with a mask he'd never bothered to make for me.

His grip tightened, pressing against the delicate bones of my wrist until I winced.

"You're hurting me!" I hissed, trying to pull away.′′Letgo."

Adam didn't release me, his eyes conveying a clear message:tell me what's wrong, or I won't let go. "Enough, you two!" Luke's amused voice interrupted our silent standoff.′′Mymother will be making her entrance soon. Please don't show off your marital affection in front of her, or she'll start pressuring me to settle down next!"

I immediately plastered on a bright smile, grateful for the interruption. "Dr. Morgan, it's been a while."

Luke glanced between us, clearly sensing the tension. "Why don't we head to the main hall? Hiding in corners isn't very social of you."

"That sounds like a good idea," I agreed eagerly, using the distraction to free my wrist from Adam's grasp.

Adam's expression darkened further as he watched me step closer to Luke, but he said nothing as we made our way toward the main hall.

One hours later, I stood beside Adam in the grand ballroom,physically present but mentally elsewhere. My thoughts kept returning to that Instagram post, to Grace's obvious delight at receiving a handmade gift from Adam.

I was vaguely aware of James entering the room, taking his place beside his mother. Even from across the hall, I could feel his gaze occasionally drifting toward me. Adam noticed too,his posture becoming increasingly rigid each time Jameslooked our way. He's being ridiculous, I thought. It's just James. He and I have known each other since we were children. Adam's hand suddenly reached up. plucking the Chanel pearl hairpin from my updo. Several strands of hair tumbled free.brushing against my cheek.

"What are you doing?" I demanded, taken aback by his unexpected action.

"I'll buy you a new one tomorrow," he replied coolly, tucking the hairpin-James's gift-into his pocket.

"Adam, that was a gift!" I protested, feeling my composure start to crack.

"Mrs. Lancaster," he responded, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, "it was a gift from another man."

Something inside me snapped. All the frustration, jealousy, and hurt I'd been suppressing bubbled to the surface.

"So what if it was from a man?" I demanded, no longer caring who might overhear. "Am I not allowed to have male friends? I've received hundreds of gifts from men throughout my life-are you planning to throw them all away? It was just a gift,completely innocent. You have no right to control me in this!" Adam's eyes narrowed. "You seem very attached to James's gift.11 "And what if I am?" I shot back, my voice trembling with emotion. I noticed several nearby guests turning to stare at our increasingly heated exchange. Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to regain control.

"I need to use the restroom," I announced, turning away before he could respond.

Seated in the locked stall of the ladies' room, I buried my face in my hands, fighting back tears. I'd been sitting here for nearly ten minutes, my mind a jumble of conflicting emotions.

Everything I knew about Grace Davis swirled through my head.The childhood connection. The jewelry designs. The exhibition Adam had attended. The handmade mask.

How hypocritical can he be? I thought bitterly. He's clearly involved with another woman, yet he has the audacity to be possessive over a simple hairpin?

There was a world of difference between my innocent social interactions with James and whatever was going on between Adam and Grace. James and I exchanged casual pleasantries and the occasional gift-nothing more. But Adam had gone to Grace's exhibition, crafted her a mask by hand, and who knows what else.

I regretted crossing that line with Adam. What had started as a contractual arrangement had evolved into something far more complicated, leaving me vulnerable in ways I hadn't anticipated.

A knock on the stall door interrupted my thoughts.

"Someone's in here!" I called out,quickly wiping away a stray tear.

The knocking continued, more insistent this time, the rhythm firm and deliberate.

Annoyed, I glanced down and froze when I saw men's dress shoes visible beneath the stall door. My heartbeat quickened,and I instinctively reached for my phone, preparing to call for help if necessary.