Belated Moonlight: He Regretted Only After I Left-Chapter 178: The Rooftop Truth! (Double-Length)
At this moment, in the unused room at the end of the hospital corridor.
Shane Donovan, who had hurried over upon receiving the message, pushed the door open and immediately saw Stella Sterling standing by the window.
The window was wide open, with the cold wind of mid-winter pouring in unimpeded, making the curtains flutter noisily. The room was as cold as an ice cellar.
Stella was only wearing a thin wool sweater, her back to the door, making her silhouette look even more slender, as if she could be blown away by the biting wind at any moment.
Shane’s brows furrowed sharply, and he strode forward, reaching over her shoulder to forcefully shut the window with a "bang," blocking out the cold clamor from outside.
Immediately after, he swiftly took off his black wool coat and draped it over Stella’s shoulders without a word, wrapping her up tightly.
"No matter how sad you are, don’t joke around with your health." His voice was low, carrying a hint of tension that was not easily perceptible, as though he was suppressing tumultuous emotions.
He pulled the coat collar tightly around her neck, his fingertips inevitably grazing her icy skin, which made his gaze deepen.
Stella allowed him to act, without struggling, and slowly raised her head, her pale face accented by a pair of strikingly dark eyes staring directly at him, "Shane Donovan, what exactly happened on the rooftop?"
Shane’s fingers paused momentarily while fastening the buttons for her.
Stella’s gaze was locked onto his eyes, not missing even a slightest change in his facial expression: "Besides discussing the investment risk, did you and my dad talk about anything else?"
A faint ripple passed through Shane’s deep eyes as he met her gaze, his tone calm as he replied, "Why are you asking this?"
"I checked the call records." Stella’s voice was soft but clear in every word, "The time I called you and got disconnected matches exactly when you and the police said you and my dad were still on the rooftop."
She paused, her breathing slightly accelerated, "That call was hung up at that time, right?"
The air seemed to freeze for a few seconds.
Shane silently looked at her, his Adam’s apple moving slightly, his jawline tense. After a while, he barely nodded and forced out a syllable from deep in his throat:
"Mm."
He took a deep breath, "It was your dad who hung up."
Stella’s heart constricted suddenly.
Shane continued, speaking slowly with weight in each word: "He saw my caller ID, then grabbed the phone and hung up."
"Then... what about the indecency Owen Callahan mentioned?"
"Boom—!"
The word was like a thunderclap that split Shane’s usually calm demeanor wide open.
His pupils contracted instantly, his whole aura becoming sharp and dangerous as if a beast’s reverse scale had been touched.
In those deep eyes, a terrifying shade of ink surged, "Owen Callahan..."
He repeated the name, his voice low and hoarse, brimming with undisguised cold malice, "He contacted you? When?"
"Just a while ago." Stella watched him unblinkingly, "He called me, claimed he saw you push my dad off the building, and said... he has photos."
Shane’s jawline tightened, the oppressive fury around him almost erupting outward, but it receded entirely upon meeting her gaze.
He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, there was a kind of near-broken sorrow in their depths.
"You..." His Adam’s apple moved with difficulty, his voice rasping, "Do you believe him?"
Stella didn’t answer immediately, taking a small step forward, the distance narrowing until they could feel each other’s subtle breaths.
She raised her hand, not to push him away, but to lightly rest it on the back of his hand still frozen before her collar.
Her hand was cold, carrying the chill from the outside, but the moment it touched him, it felt like it bore a strange warmth, soothing his icy skin.
"I don’t believe him." She said, her voice not loud but clear in every word, striking Shane’s heart, "I don’t believe a single word."
"If I believed such absurd accusations, I wouldn’t have asked you directly just now."
Stella’s fingertips gently grazed his cold skin, as if trying to wipe away the chill, "Shane Donovan, I want to hear you say it. What exactly is the ’indecency’ Owen Callahan talked about?"
Shane’s body shook violently.
He looked at her holding his hand, seeing the complete trust in her clear eyes, and his heart felt as if it were being slashed open by countless invisible blades, bleeding profusely yet soaking into a jar brimming with honey...
The more it hurt, the sweeter it felt.
This extreme contradiction gripped him, making him momentarily speechless.
He reversed his grip, clutching her hand tightly, as if only then could he confirm that everything before him was not an illusion.
He took a deep breath, forcing down the emotions surging in his eyes.
"You were probably about fifteen or sixteen then, as beautiful as a doll. Owen Callahan came to visit The Sterling Family with his father." Shane’s pace of speech was slow, each word seemed ground out from between his teeth, "He took the chance while you were napping on the swing..."
His breathing suddenly became heavy, his eyes instantly filled with menacing blood vessels, the kind of murderous intent that could not be resolved even after many years.
"I saw him..." Shane’s voice was as cold as ice, "I saw him try to lift your skirt and even attempt to... kiss you."
Stella’s heart sank deeply, a chill ran up her spine.
She had no memory of this fragment, but just listening to the description made her stomach churn.
"I dragged him out and beat him up."
Shane spoke matter-of-factly, but Stella could imagine the scene from back then; with his cold and fierce nature even as a teenager, Owen couldn’t have gotten off lightly.
"I warned him if he dared to speak a word, or dared approach you again, I’d destroy him."
"I didn’t tell anyone about it at the time." Shane looked at her, his gaze complicated, "I didn’t want you to... even hear about such filthy things. I intended to keep it from you forever."
"Those vile, disgusting thoughts, even if they were just aimed at you, made me feel like you were sullied. I didn’t want you to know there were such lewd people and things in the world, nor did I want you to... have even the slightest shadow in your heart because of it."
His voice lowered, "Even though at that time, Owen Callahan actually hadn’t managed to do anything substantial to you. But just thinking about the way he looked at you with those vile thoughts, how he approached you... made me want to flay him alive."
Stella listened quietly, her heart feeling as if it were tightly gripped by an invisible hand, making it hard to breathe.
She didn’t lack fear, nor did she not find Owen Callahan’s actions disgusting, but at this moment, the more overwhelming emotion was the heartache for the man in front of her.
He took a deep breath, "But I didn’t expect, that bastard Owen Callahan, to be so despicable and shameless, not daring to retaliate against me but instead running to your brother to twist the truth."
"He told Aidan Sterling that I had intentions towards you, and when he caught me and stopped me, I became angry and beat him." Shane’s lips curled into an extremely cold smile, "Your brother... believed him then."
Stella instantly understood.
Why her brother, Aidan Sterling, all these years harbored such deep hostility and rejection towards Shane, almost to the point of irreconcilability.
The root of the matter is here!
"So, you and my dad on the rooftop, he hung up my phone call, just because..." Stella’s voice trembled slightly.
"Yes."
Shane Donovan nodded, "Owen Callahan told your dad about this. He invited me to the rooftop today to question me about it. He was very emotional at first, believing I had deceived you and was unworthy of being with you. Your phone call was also cut off at that moment... later I told him the truth..."
Stella instinctively held her breath.
So that’s how it was...
So, Shane wasn’t the one who hung up the call, but...her father.
Stella seemed to suddenly think of something, "Right, take a look at this photo..."
Saying this, she handed the phone to Shane Donovan.
"The pixel discontinuity is unnatural, the edges are overly sharpened—typical characteristics of AI synthesis."
She then slides to the close-up of Theodore Sterling’s face: "The distortion of facial muscles violates ergonomics. But the most important is..."
She zoomed out the image to a panorama, pointing to the metal railing at the edge of the rooftop: "The real railing height is 1.2 meters, given this shooting angle, if it were a real person capturing it, the railing should be positioned here in the frame."
Her fingertip lightly taps the empty space on the screen: "But now it’s completely missing."
Shane Donovan’s eyes darkened abruptly: "You saw it was fake long ago?"
"I saw it at first glance." Stella tucked away her phone, raising her eyes to him, "I purposely tried to get him to talk, asking if he had more photos."
Her lips curled into a cold arc: "Someone with ’ironclad evidence’ would hardly send just one flawed composite image. He’s advised by someone, but the technical team isn’t professional enough."
Shane Donovan rubbed her icy hand back, a thick, inky color swirling in his eyes: "Owen doesn’t have the brains to set up such a large scheme."
"Owen stepped forward not just for revenge on you." She analyzed clearly, "Choosing this time, with such a tricky photo, reaching out to me, sowing discord between us... there must be someone behind this."
"The person behind him has a very clear objective." Stella knitted her delicate brows, "First, creating the illusion of my father’s ’suicide,’ then directing suspicion on you, simultaneously bringing up old incidents from years ago, completely destroying the trust between us. Once we’re in chaos internally, they can take advantage of it."
Shane Donovan looked at her with admiration, his little girl, under immense upheaval and shock, can still maintain such clarity of thought.
"The opponent understands us well, understands The Sterling Family, and knows... Owen is a deeply buried, deadly thorn."
Shane Donovan’s voice was sharp as a knife, "Not many can achieve this."
The two exchanged a glance, a name emerged in both their minds.
—Philip Donovan.
"Owen just asked me on the phone if I wanted to avenge my dad." Stella murmured.
Shane Donovan sneered, eyes filled with icy sarcasm: "Avenge is fake, killing by proxy is real. The person behind him only aims to use you against me. And Owen himself is just a hyena looking to bite off a piece."
Stella immediately understood his meaning: "He wants to use the photo as a stake, lure me, or... force us to follow the script behind him."
"Exactly."
Stella’s lips curled into a cold smile, "Since they want to play, let’s play with them to the end."
She raised her head, "Shane Donovan, dare to act in a play with me?"
Shane Donovan didn’t hesitate at all, meeting her gaze: "You say."
"Owen wants to see me hating you to the bone, wants to see me looking for ’revenge’ against you?" Stella’s eyes narrowed slightly, "Then we’ll act for him to see..."
She laid out her plan.
How to pretend to be torn apart by photos, how to create conflict, how to lure the snake out of its hole, how to gradually make Owen and the person behind him reveal themselves...
Shane Donovan listened attentively, occasionally nodding, sporadically adding one or two details.
"...The most important is to get all the original photos in his hand, find out who is behind it, and..." Stella’s gaze sank, "the truth about my dad’s fall."
Shane Donovan nodded heavily, "I understand."
The plan settled, Stella straightened up slightly, lifted her hand to hold his face, her fingertip gently caressing his cheek, "It will be dangerous, might cause you grievance."
Shane Donovan caught her hand, pressing it against his cheek, feeling the soft warmth of her palm, his lips curled slightly, "For you, I’ll go through fire and water, without hesitation."
...
Aidan Sterling stepped into the hospital corridor bringing a chill wind.
His stride was large, and his limp became increasingly pronounced, the sound of his leather shoes striking the ground deep and shallow echoed clearly in the silence, each note hitting the heart.
Stella just came out of the ward, looking up, her gaze collided with such a pair of eyes.
"Brother..."
Aidan’s steps halted before her.
His gaze intensely pressed upon her pale face, finally fixed on her slightly swollen eyelids.
He didn’t respond, just raised his hand, the fingertip a bit rough, brushed past the moist mark below her eyes, the action not gentle, even carrying a hint of suppressed force.
"Dad?" he asked, his voice hoarse, like sandpaper scraping through.
"In ICU, hasn’t woken up yet." She sniffed, trying to steady her voice, yet still leaking a trace of trembling, "The doctor said... the hope of waking is very slim..."
Aidan’s jawline suddenly tightened, his Adam’s apple rolling heavily.
He closed his eyes, and when reopened, all emotions within were forcibly suppressed, leaving only frozen coldness.
He didn’t ask further, raised his foot walking towards the ICU.
Stella instinctively followed, her fingers curled, wanting to grab his sleeve, yet as soon as they touched the invisible chill around him, they froze mid-air.
Outside the ICU glass, only the blurred outline of instruments and the lifeless figure on the bed can be seen.
Aidan stood there, his back straight as a ramrod.
He looked for a long time, as long as Stella thought he might stand like that indefinitely.
Then, he laughed lightly.
That laugh was cold and empty, carrying a kind of chilling calmness...
