Stella finally let go of his arm after dragging him all the way out of the club. She was about to throw a jumble of words at him, but the man beat her to it.

"What are you doing here?" Long gone was the sweet, possessive boyfriend as he questioned her in a stern tone. His words made Stella scoff as she started to walk away from the spot they were standing in. "I asked you a question, Stella." He spoke up in the same scruff tone as he began to follow her.

"Shouldn't you be the one to answer that question?" She added sarcastically, her steps coming to a sudden halt right next to an alley. She rolled her eyes when she didn't hear a response from him. "Since you are insisting so much, I will be the bigger person and answer your question. The stupid me was worried about my husband's whereabouts, so I decided to look for him and found him in some random local club."

Adam narrowed his eyes and pulled her in the alley, pinning her against the dark red brick wall. Even though the man was seething in anger, he was still gentle with his movements. The moment she stepped inside the club, he had his eyes set on her figure. It wasn't hard for him to notice a lady who seemed so out of place. He almost lost his cool when he saw that thug like man, trying to hit on his wife.

"Oh! So you remember that you have a husband?" He added with a scoff, his voice laced with sarcasm.

Listening to the way he was talking to her, she couldn't keep it inside and snapped back at him. "I have apologized to you for it, haven't I? I am sorry if I hurt you in anyway, but that wasn't my intention and you know it. Why do you think I even bothered to follow you all the way to here if it wasn't for me feeling bad about my actions?" She continued to stare at him with an aggrieved expression as the corners of her eyes began to glisten.

Adam heaved out a tired sigh, his expressions turning mellow as he leaned his face in. A frown marred his forehead when he saw her turning her face away. Hooking a finger under her chin, he turned her face towards him, forcing her to look into his eyes. "I am sorry, okay? You don't have to get all teary just because I was being an asshole." Though his words were way tender, she could tell that he was still being distant.

"You won't get mad at me anymore?" She questioned her, pursing her lips in a pout as her expressions turned to a pitiful child. "I promise I won't keep anything starting from now."

"I am not mad at you, I never was. I was just angry at myself." He replied before pressing a kiss on her forehead. "Let's get you back home." He added, wrapping his arms around her lower back.

She let him guide her out of the alley and back to the entrance of the club. "What did you have for your drink?" She questioned him as they waited for the valet to bring her car around. The way his breath smelled of alcohol earlier, it wasn't hard for her to tell that he had definitely consumed some alcohol.

"Scotch." He replied to her with a guilty expression. Under her threatening gaze, he was forced to explain himself. "I was angry, needed something to calm my nerves down."

"How many glasses?" She added, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Three." He scratched the back of his head and answered meekly to her. "Maybe it was four." He mumbled the latter part with a guilt stricken face.

"Wilson told you not to consume even a little bit of alcohol until your wound is completely healed." She was about to continue further, but stopped herself when she saw the valet bringing her car out to the front. "We are going to have a word about this when we get back home." She added before walking away from him.

"Pay for the parking." She spoke up in a loud enough voice for him to hear as he was still standing in his previous spot before getting inside the car.

Adam could only shake his head off, pitying his own self. He knew that a good amount of scolding was about to come his way once they reached her penthouse. With the banquet closing in, they were almost done with most of the paperwork and there was no need for the duo to stay back at the company. 'How does our every argument end up with me being the culprit?' It was a mystery to him as well. He shrugged ever so slightly and walked towards the valet to pay him for his services. 'I don't mind being the culprit as long as she is happy with it.' A faint smile embraced his lips as he walked towards the car.

--------

"Are you going to attend it or not?" Taylor asked his father who was busy reading through his diary, reminiscing about the past. The worn out leather cover which was holding the pale papers together was proof of its old age.

"I haven't decided yet. Moreover, I don't deal with the company anymore, so going to the banquet won't make any sense." Carston replied to him with a bored expression as he continued to turn the pale yellow pages of his diary.

"You could at least accompany me to the banquet." Taylor asked him one more time. He had decided to finally ask Stella out to dinner after the banquet, and he wanted his father to be there with him. He couldn't pinpoint exactly when his father became so distant with him. He was never like this all through his childhood till he took over the company. What exactly changed with them? Was it him pursuing Stella the sole reason for the bad water in between them?

'I wonder if things could go some other way between us two.' Taylor thought to himself as he continued to stand at the threshold of the study room.

"You can take any random woman as your date. I'm too old for these banquets." Carston answered him, looking up at him. 'I already have a date for you, my son. But that will be a surprise for you.' He thought inwardly and smiled at him. "If you are done here, please leave." He asked him to which Taylor just complied with silently.

After Taylor had left, Carston took out his phone and typed a text and sent it to a private number.

'You better make it to the banquet. My man will be there by the entrance with your invitation card. Don't be late.'

He continued to stare at the screen even after the text was sent. It was only then he received an 'okay' in response, did he put his phone away.

******

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