Chapter 367:

🍙 🍙 🍙 🍙 🍙

And Stella was certain she could elevate Flossie’s fame even further.

But…

Stella considered another aspect, cautioning Flossie, «I’m touched by your faith in me. But don’t forget, Matthew is the renowned Tobin. Wasn’t working with him always a dream of yours?»

She remembered the glow of admiration in Flossie’s eyes whenever Tobin was mentioned.

«You’ve worked so hard for this opportunity. It’d be a shame to abandon it now.»

A fleeting look of embarrassment crossed Flossie’s face. She shook her head, feigning nonchalance. «He’s just a man, not a priority. Friends come first. How could I let you both venture off without me? I must join you, no matter what.»

With that, she hoisted her glass again. «Enough talk. Let’s just celebrate and leave it at that!»

Recognizing Flossie’s resolve, Stella relented.

Smiling, she lifted her glass, and the trio toasted, their glasses clinking together in a happy chorus. After downing several glasses, Miley grew tipsy.

She draped an arm around Stella’s shoulder and murmured, «Titles, status, wealth… They’re all transient. What matters is pure love. If Matthew loves you, and you love him, don’t squander that.»

Stella closed her eyes briefly, awash in a sea of emotions but saying nothing.

Before they knew it, the clock struck midnight, and Flossie was also tipsy.

The three friends sprawled on the couch, heads lolling, succumbing to their weariness.

Stella was jolted awake the next morning by a piercing scream.

Rubbing her forehead, she squinted.

Miley sat on the sofa with her phone in her hand.

R3ad th3 l4t3st 0n g4ln0v3ls.c0m

«What’s got you shrieking this early?» Stella mumbled.

Miley’s expression was grave as she handed over the phone. «See for yourself.»

Blinking away the sleep, Stella forced herself to focus on the screen.

The moment she read the headline, her eyes widened, and she snapped to full alertness.

Stella swiftly picked up her phone to verify the news.

«Stella Anderson, A Mistress?»

The headline was straightforward yet provocative.

Furrowing her brow, Stella clicked on the article.

The whistleblower had used a new account, devoid of any background information on the homepage. The account seemed newly created.

Stella’s face tightened as she scrolled through the comments, each one an arrow aimed at her.

Someone must have fueled this onslaught.

Still scrolling, Stella read more vilification against her. «Stella’s an orphan. She’s just riding Matthew’s coattails for personal gain.»

«What a disgrace! How did her adoptive parents raise her to become such a shameless mistress?»

«I always wondered how she went from PR officer to designer. Now it’s clear. She took advantage of her relationship with Matthew.»

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