Chapter 2

Celeste Moore ordered an iced Americano, black, no sugar. It was the exact way Lucian drank his.

Sitting across the corner booth of the empty ground-floor café, Stella caught a whiff of the roasted espresso and her stomach turned. She lifted her glass of lemon water and took a slow sip to force the nausea down.

Celeste rested her chin on her laced fingers, her smile warm and polite. "You look pale, Ms. Quinn. You're not pregnant, are you?"

Stella set her glass down and met her gaze squarely. "And if I were? What's your next move, Ms. Moore?"

Celeste gave a soft laugh. "Relax. I was joking. I know you can't be. Luc promised me no kids for five years."

The glass hit the table with a sharp crack, lemon water sloshing over the rim. Stella stared at her, her voice low and flat. "So you invited me down here to tell me he loves you more. Should I pack my bags now?"

"No, you're misunderstanding me!" Celeste shook her head quickly, her eyes widening. "I didn't send those photos from Rome. Someone blackmailed me with them. He demanded ten million dollars and said he had video too. I paid him off so Luc wouldn't be dragged into a scandal. I never thought the bastard would still send them to you."

"Save the performance," Stella said. "From those photos to every word out of your mouth right now, you know exactly what you're doing."

A tear spilled over Celeste's lashes, rolling down her cheek right on cue. "I'm not provoking you, I swear. Everyone thinks I dumped Luc after college to go to Milan, but the truth is Grandpa Rhodes forced me to leave."

Stella gave a cold laugh. "Grandpa Rhodes respects Luc's choices more than anyone. He wouldn't bother."

"He would when it came to me," Celeste whispered, biting her lip. "Because I was born unable to have children. Luc is the sole heir to the Rhodes fortune. His grandfather would never allow a barren woman to become Mrs. Rhodes."

She covered her face and began to sob. "I know Luc is going to marry you, Ms. Quinn. He told me you're the most suitable wife he could ask for, and that he'll give you the title and a family. I don't want your place. I just can't live without him, and he can't let me go after all these years."

Stella's hand tightened around her glass. "Shut up."

Celeste looked up through wet lashes, her voice trembling. "I'm not asking for a title! I just want to stay beside him quietly. Please, Ms. Quinn, we genuinely love each other. Just don't tear us apart."

"I said shut up."

"Please, I'm begging you to bless—"

Stella stood up and threw the rest of her lemon water straight into Celeste's face.

Celeste gasped, freezing as water dripped from her hair and chin.

Stella looked down at her, her voice cold. "You want me to bless your affair? With what, the body you say can't give him an heir?"

Celeste wiped her face, her breath hitching.

"You cry on command and beg me to let you be his mistress while slipping in how much he loves you in every sentence," Stella said, picking up her purse. "If you really have that hold on him, tell Lucian to call off our wedding. Otherwise, the day I become Mrs. Rhodes, you're the first thing I clean out of this building."

She turned to walk past the booth.

"Ms. Quinn!" Celeste lunged up from her seat and grabbed Stella's right forearm.

Before Stella could yank her arm back, Celeste shoved her with everything she had, aiming her straight at the sharp corner of the heavy oak table.

Stella's breath caught. She threw one hand over her stomach, twisted her hips at the last second to miss the wood, and planted her heel. Pivoting back, she swung her free hand and slapped Celeste hard across the face.

The crack of skin on skin echoed through the quiet café at the exact moment a deep voice barked from the entrance.

"Celeste!"

Stella stiffened and looked toward the door.

Lucian had just stepped inside with Nate right behind him. From the doorway, the high back of the booth would have hidden Celeste's shove. All he could have seen was Stella's hand striking Celeste's cheek.

In three long strides, Lucian reached the table. He looked at the red print blooming on Celeste's wet face first, then turned his dark, frigid eyes on Stella.

"Explain yourself," he said.

Stella looked at the man who had traced lipstick onto her mouth two hours ago. Her lips felt numb. "Does it hurt you that I hit her?"

"Violence is unacceptable regardless of the reason." His jaw set. "Apologize."

"No."

"Stella."

"Luc, don't be angry with her!" Celeste caught his sleeve with both hands, tears mixing with the lemon water on her cheeks. "It's my fault. I said the wrong thing and upset Ms. Quinn. Please don't fight with her over me..."

Her eyes rolled back, and her knees buckled.

Lucian caught her before she hit the floor. "Celeste?"

When she didn't answer, he scooped her up into his arms and turned toward the door without a second glance at Stella. "Nate, call Dr. Wu."

"Right away, sir!" Nate pulled out his phone and hurried after him.

Stella stood beside the table and watched Lucian carry another woman out into the street. She didn't look away until the glass doors swung shut behind them.

"Miss? Your hand..."

A young waitress stepped forward hesitantly, holding out a stack of napkins. "You're bleeding."

Stella looked down at the back of her right hand. A clean, three-inch gash was welling with bright red blood, dripping onto the floor.

She crouched down beside the table leg. Glinting against the dark tile was a tiny, razor-thin craft blade, stained red at the tip. Celeste had palmed it between her fingers when she grabbed her arm.

Stella wrapped the blade carefully in a napkin, tucked it into her purse, and stood up. She pressed a clean napkin to her cut and looked at the waitress.

"Do you have cameras in here?"