Belated Moonlight: He Regretted Only After I Left-Chapter 129: He’s Not Dead... (Bonus Chapter)
The next day, Stella didn’t go to the law firm.
Finn called, and she hung up.
The phone screen lit up with many unread messages and missed calls, but she didn’t check any of them.
She lay in bed, eyes open, staring at the ceiling, motionless.
It seemed as if all her vitality had drained away with the tears she shed last night.
Around noon, the doorbell rang.
Over and over again, persistent.
Stella acted as though she hadn’t heard it.
The person outside seemed to have lost patience and began banging on the door.
"Stella! Open the door! I know you’re in there!" It was Rhys Lennox’s voice, with his usual impatience and irritation.
Stella pulled the blanket over her head.
The banging continued for a few minutes before it quieted down outside.
Just as Stella thought he had left, there was a noise from the direction of the balcony.
There was a soft "click," and the balcony door was pried open from the outside.
Rhys Lennox’s tall figure appeared at the bedroom door, carrying the chill from outdoors.
He looked at Stella curled up in bed, his brows furrowing.
"Are you really trying to suffocate yourself?" He strode over and yanked the blanket off.
Seeing Stella’s swollen eyes and her face, pale to the point of being bloodless, he paused for a moment, but his tone remained abrasive: "Get up and eat."
Stella closed her eyes, ignoring him.
Rhys stared at her for a few seconds, then suddenly bent down, picking her up horizontally from the bed.
"What are you doing?!" Stella exclaimed in shock and anger, struggling.
"Shut up." Rhys carried her with large strides to the living room and tossed her onto the sofa.
The gesture wasn’t gentle, but he avoided places where she might get hurt.
He turned and walked into the kitchen, and shortly after, emerged with a bowl of steaming white porridge, which he placed heavily on the coffee table in front of her. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶
"Eat."
Stella turned her head away.
Rhys sat beside her, his long legs sprawled out, picked up a spoon, scooped some porridge, and held it to her mouth.
"If you don’t eat, I’ll force it down your throat." His tone was caustic, but his gaze was fixed intently on her.
Stella pressed her lips firmly together.
The two remained locked in a standoff.
Finally, Rhys slammed the spoon down, uttering a frustrated curse.
"Is this all you’ve got?" He looked at her with a complex expression, "If my brother saw you like this, he’d roll over in his grave."
Stella’s body trembled violently.
"He’s not dead..." Her voice was hoarse, carrying a fragile stubbornness.
"Fine, he’s not dead." Rhys forced a smile, agreeing with her sarcastically, "But if he’s not dead, seeing you like this, would he feel sorry for you or think you’re a waste?"
Stella froze.
"Someone like him," Rhys leaned back against the sofa, gazing out the window, his voice somewhat ethereal, "wouldn’t like a useless person who only cries and wants to die, would he?"
Stella clenched her fingers tightly.
"Drink the porridge." Rhys withdrew his gaze and picked up the spoon again, offering it to her, with a somewhat calmer tone this time: "Being alive is how you wait for his return. Or... find him."
The last few words he said very softly.
Stella looked at him, then at the steaming bowl of porridge.
After a long while, she slowly reached out and took the spoon.
Rhys watched as Stella took the first sip of porridge and imperceptibly let out a sigh of relief.
He got up, hands in his pockets, and headed for the door.
The door closed softly.
Stella, holding the spoon, lowered her head and mechanically ate the porridge, one bite after another.
Tears silently fell into the porridge.
The salty taste spread in her mouth.
Just as Stella numbly consumed the porridge, her phone vibrated suddenly. She glanced reflexively at the caller ID — it was Finn Lockwood.
Remembering she had asked him to help investigate something earlier, she wiped her face and quickly pressed the answer button.
"Hello..."
"Boss, bad news, something’s happened at The Donovan Family..."
Stella’s hand holding the phone paused, her knuckles slightly white, "What happened?"
"Old Mr. Donovan couldn’t handle the shock and has been hospitalized. Mrs. Donovan is also... not doing well." Finn hesitated, his tone lowered, "Now Philip Donovan and Beatrice Donovan are in charge. Innovatech Bio has already... been taken over by them."
There was silence for a moment on the other end, and Finn’s voice carried a hint of hesitation: "Also... Grace Quinn has been brought back to The Donovan Family."
Stella couldn’t help but be taken aback, "What?"
Finn pressed his lips, "Grace Quinn has been recognized back into The Donovan Family, as... President Donovan’s half-sister."
Stella pulled her lips into a bitter smile.
How ridiculous.
Shane Donovan was barely buried — no, they hadn’t even found his remains.
These people were already eager to divide up everything he left behind, and even in death, they tarnished his father’s name.
She hung up the phone, standing quietly in the darkening living room, surrounded by silence.
After a long while, she picked up her coat and car keys and walked out.
The Donovan Family’s old residence looked more forbidding than ever before.
Stella’s car was stopped outside the gates, the security guards expressionless: "Sorry, no entry without an appointment."
Stella lowered the car window, her gaze sweeping calmly: "I’m looking for Auntie Wren."
"The lady isn’t seeing visitors."
While they were at an impasse, a delicate voice laced with laughter came from behind: "Oh, who do we have here?"
Stella turned her head.
She saw Grace Quinn dressed in the latest Chanel outfit, carrying a limited-edition handbag, standing gracefully not far away.
Two servants followed behind her, exuding unprecedented arrogance.
"Stella..." Grace approached the car, leaning in slightly, malice undisguised in her eyes, "Oh no, I should call you... jinx?"
Stella tightened her grip on the steering wheel, her knuckles turning even whiter.
Grace chuckled lightly, "Your skin is as thick as ever, daring to come look for Auntie Wren? Haven’t you caused her enough trouble? My brother just got engaged to you and died, supposedly... he was delivering a bag for you?"
She leaned in closer, her voice lowered, each word like a venomous snake’s hiss: "Wouldn’t you say you’re a jinx? Huh? Whoever gets close to you is doomed?"
Stella abruptly opened the car door.
"Smack!"
A crisp slap landed hard on Grace’s face.
Grace was hit so that her head turned to the side, clutching her now swollen red cheek, staring in disbelief: "You dare hit me?!"
"Hit you, I did," Stella’s voice was as cold as ice.
Grace trembled with rage, her voice shrill: "Grab her!"
The two servants immediately rushed forward, firmly pinning Stella’s arms on each side.
Stella struggled desperately, but ultimately her strength was no match, being pinned against the car.
Grace rubbed her face, her eyes venomous as she moved forward, raising her hand—
"Stop."
A cold, harsh voice sounded from behind.
Rhys, having arrived unnoticed, hands in his pockets, with his rebellious blond hair, sauntered over slowly.
His gaze swept over the restrained Stella, finally landing on Grace, his mouth curving into a half-smile: "What’s this, since when did you start running The Donovan Family?"
Grace’s expression changed several times, forcing a smile: "Rhys, this is just a matter between her and me..."
"She’s my sister-in-law."
Rhys interrupted her, his tone flat yet carrying an undeniable authority, "Get lost!"
