Chapter 4 Same People, Different Fates
“Go drink some water. Wendy’s still not awake–I can’t leave her. Star, be good. I’m tired. Stop throwing a fit over nothing, okay?”
Then the line went dead.
The flat, repeating tone stabbed at Stella’s eyes until they sturig with tears.
Back when she had a stomach ulcer and woke up after surgery, Shane had cried while holding her.
He knelt at her bedside–this tall man, like a lost, oversized dog–burying his face in her neck, his voice hoarse.
“Star, I’m hurting. Every second you were in that operating room, it felt like someone was carving out my chest. Don’t you know? You’re my everything!”
That same man who once said losing her would tear him apart–was now telling her not to use illness as an excuse to be dramatic.
After disappointment came numbness.
Clenching her teeth, she endured the pain and called for an ambulance.
By the time she was helped out of it, she was barely conscious.
In the haze, she heard a familiar voice.
“Wendy, are you cold? Wrap your arms around my neck.”
She turned her head with effort.
Between the shifting nurses and doctors, she caught a glimpse of Shane in a black shirt, striding quickly.
Wendy wore a gray blanket draped over her shoulders, her arms looped around his neck. She rubbed her cheek against his chin, saying something soft. Shane looked down and smiled at her.
Tender. Indulgent.
The chaos of the ER melted away–his world was full of Wendy.
Stella watched him help Wendy into the car. She watched the familiar Cayenne vanish down the driveway.
On the freezing examination table, her sweat–soaked clothes clung to her skin, chilling her to the bone.
She accepted the treatment without a word. When the nasogastric tube slid down her throat, she gagged and dry–heaved until tears streamed down her face.
By 1:30 a.m., she was moved to a temporary ward and hooked up to an IV.
A nurse organizing the bed beside her chatted with another.
“You know who that couple in the ER was?”
“No. The guy was really good–looking.”
“More than good–looking–that was the CEO of the Boston Corp.”
“No way? The billionaire Boston Corp CEO? I just saw him wiping that woman’s hands and face like she was a child–so gentle, so doting. I’m jealous.”
“They say rich men are all players, but maybe that’s just because they haven’t met the right one. I heard the hospital director moved them to the VIP ward. The woman had an asthma attack and had to go on oxygen. The CEO was so worried he nearly
cried.”
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“She was in pajamas–must be his fiancée.”
Stella pulled the thin hospital blanket tighter around herself, but the chill remained.
The young nurse checked the IV and gently said, “Ma’am, you should call someone. You need someone to care for you in this
condition.”
Stella forced a weak smile.
“He’s busy. He doesn’t have time.”
The nurse said nothing else and quietly left. Her voice echoed down the corridor.
“Same people, different lives. One has a stomach ulcer and no one shows up. The other gets the whole hospital mobilized for an asthma attack…”
Stella slowly closed her eyes.
That night, she slept deeply.
When she woke, daylight was already pouring in.
Remembering her meeting, she grabbed her phone.
There were a dozen unread WhatsApp messages–from Wendy.
“Thank goodness for Ms. Stella’s disinfectant. Shane’s bed is huge. So soft.”
“Ms. Stella’s pajamas were a little tight. You should eat more. Shane loves grabbing my chest when he’s holding me.”
“Three in the morning. Bet Ms. Stella never thought I’d be the first to sleep in Shane’s bed, huh?”
“Shane made me chicken soup. He searched everywhere for the recipe. So touching.”
The last message was a photo.
Shane’s underwear tangled on the floor with a crumpled pair of pink women’s panties.
Stelia hated pink. She’d never bought anything in that color.
They went to bed after returning from the hospital.
How passionate.
Pain pricked her heart again.
Fighting nausea, she took a screenshot and saved it.
Her stomach felt sour and empty–but the pain was gone.
When she stood up, her legs were still shaky.
She braced against the wall and made her way to the nurses‘ station to insist on checking out.
She didn’t have time to rest.
As soon as she got in a cab, Shane called.
“Come out of the hotel. I’m sending Cheng Zhou to pick you up.”
The entitled tone, like no matter what happened, Stella would always be waiting at his beck and call.
She leaned back in the seat, her face as pale as a ghost.
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“I’m not at the hotel.”
“You went out? Shopping again?” His tone turned impatient. “Don’t go out today. Go home. You know Wendy best. Take care of her for a day–I don’t trust the maids.”
Stella nearly laughed.
Just minutes ago, she’d thought maybe Shane was calling to ask if she needed a checkup.
She actually thought he was worried about her stomach.
When she didn’t respond, Shane softened his tone.
“Star, I know you’re mad about last night, and about me letting Wendy move in. But I already explained. You two are so close -don’t let this ruin it. Use this time to talk things through.”
Still, Stella said nothing.
For the first time, she realized how shameless Shane could be.
Wendy’s in the hospital, and that’s your responsibility too. Be good. Listen.”
That line again-“Listen.”
She hung up without a word.
A WhatsApp message came in right after.
“Doctor said to eat light. I threw out the aroma diffuser. Find the rest and get rid of them too.”
She wanted to ask–how many of those medical notes he once wrote in his little notebook after her surgery did he still remember?
But now, it didn’t matter.
She bought a new outfit at a mall near the café, touched up her makeup in the restroom to hide how haggard she looked, and arrived right on time.
Grayson Quinn was already waiting in the private room.
Sharp features. A piercing, probing gaze.
“You really want to sell?”
Stella sank into the couch across from him, eyes cold and composed.
“Mr. Grayson, your ambitions have nothing to do with me. I have one condition: you can’t attend the shareholder meeting next Monday. Wait a week. If you agree, I’ll sign now.”
Some traps need to go off one by one. All at once would be boring.
Grayson tapped his fingers on the table.
“You and Shane are done?”
In Cloudtopia’s business circles, anyone who worked with Unity Corp knew–Stella loved Shane with everything she had.
She sat up slightly, her gaze sharp.
“Mr. Grayson, the shares I hold are rightfully mine. Taking back what belongs to me is fair and square. But if you’re hoping I’ll leak Unity Corp’s secrets, forget it. I’m not selling anymore.”
Founding shares didn’t mean robbing Unity Corp blind.
The final winner would depend on skill.
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Grayson didn’t press further. He pulled out the contract, signed it, and transferred the money.
Once she confirmed the funds, Stella stood and left.
