Chapter 3

No matter how high someone else bid, Ethan would raise his bid by 100 thousand dollars.

He did not care about the cost; he had to bid the piece.

Stella's face turned pale entirely. "Ethan," she said, voice trembling. "Do you really have to do this? I never asked you for anything—not once in all these years. But just this once... I am begging you. Please let me have my mother's final piece."

Her mother had mentioned this porcelain sculpture many times. It was the one she had always wanted Stella to find.

Ethan calmly replied, "Sorry. Rachel rarely wants anything."

Stella slowly lowered her bidding paddle.

Her parents had left her a large inheritance, but her cash on hand could not compete with Ethan's.

In the end, Ethan won the piece and gave it to Rachel.

"Thank you, Uncle Ethan! I love it so much!"

Rachel smiled as she took the sculpture—then suddenly lost her grip.

Crash!

The porcelain hit the floor and shattered.

Stella's eyes turned red. She gathered the pieces and took them home, gently trying to piece them back together.

She had only managed to form a rough shape when a maid walked over.

"Ms. Walker, Ms. Chester is outside. She knelt at the gate asking to apologize. She refuses to get up unless you forgive her."

Stella did not even look up. "Tell her I won't be seeing her."

A while later, rain poured down from the sky.

Ethan stormed into the Walker Villa, face dark with fury.

"Stella, you've gone too far!"

The ice-cold man had hot anger burning in his eyes.

"Rachel has been kneeling outside in the rain for an hour! Is it that hard for you to forgive her?"

Stella's hands paused over the broken pieces.

"She chose to kneel," her voice was calm. "She destroyed my mother's work. Why should I be the one to comfort her?"

"You—!"

Ethan was shaking with rage when his assistant suddenly ran in.

"Mr. Shaw! Bad news—Ms. Chester fainted!"

"What?" Ethan's expression changed completely.

His anger exploded as he saw Stella still piecing the porcelain back together calmly. He swiped the nearly restored sculpture off the table.

Crash!

"You're heartless, Stella!"

He threw the words over his shoulder and rushed out the door, straight into the rain to carry Rachel into his arms.

Stella stared at the shattered pieces on the floor; they were beyond repair this time.

Her long-held tears finally fell.

She had chased after him, hoping he would look her way. Alas, all she got was a tragic death in her past life and coldness in this timeline.

Stella wiped her tears and knelt down, picking up the shards one by one.

She made up her mind to cut all ties and stop loving Ethan. Stella packed everything Ethan had ever given her and mailed it back.

He never picked any of the gifts himself. It was Ethan's parents who forced him to give them, and his assistant always handled the details.

All except for one—an heirloom pendant from the Shaws. It was too valuable. Stella planned to return that to him in person.

As she reached Rachel's hospital ward, she heard her voice through the door.

"Uncle Ethan, don't be so kind to me. I'm scared I'll get used to it. And then when you get married, I won't know how to let go."

Stella saw through the glass how tenderly Ethan looked at Rachel.

He raised his hand, almost as if he could not help wanting to hold Rachel—but he stopped himself.

He gently placed his hand on Rachel's head instead. His gaze was full of restraint.

"Don't be silly," he said softly. "Even if I get married, I'll always treat you well."

Rachel's eyes lit up—then dimmed just as quickly.

"As my uncle?" she murmured. "Once you have your own children, what will I be?"

"There won't be any," Ethan spoke without hesitation. "I won't have children with Stella."

Rachel froze. "Why?" she asked.

Ethan looked at her, eyes filled with complex emotion.

"After the wedding, I'll have Stella take long-term birth control pills every day. So we'll never have children.

"Rachel, I will always be your uncle. You'll inherit everything I have one day.

"So please, don't worry."