After Dumping the CEO, I Went Back to Being the Billionaire

Alexander Sterling finally gave up his campaign of incessantly calling Stella Dawson.

After taking two full days to cool off, he had just about managed to drag himself back to a semblance of rationality.

In nearly twenty-nine years of life, he had never lost control like that.

Once the mental fog cleared, he stopped all those childish antics. He wasn't about to sacrifice his dignity.

Instead of chasing after her again, he devised a new strategy-he would intercept her at City University over the weekend.

Three days flew by. The weekend arrived.

Stella left the dormitory and headed to a nearby shopping mall to pick up some clothes.

Most of her belongings were still at Alexander's villa, and she had absolutely no intention of returning there.

The few outfits she had grabbed in a hurry were no longer sufficient.

Dressed in comfortable casual wear, hands tucked into her hoodie's front pocket, she wandered through various stores.

She wasn't looking for designer labels, just some low-key brands that suited her style.

"Excuse me, could I get this dress in my size-" she began, looking up.

Before she could finish, a hand shoved itself rudely in front of her.

Her expression instantly darkened.

Turning her head, she saw a group of sleazy-looking men. They reeked of cigarette smoke and had that greasy, intrusive presence that made skin crawl.

"Hey there, gorgeous. With a body like that, why not show us a little more?" the one at the front leered, letting his eyes roam over her in the most vulgar way possible.

Stella cracked a wry smile and rolled her eyes. She wasn't about to waste her breath on this trash.

Let them take one step closer-she'd teach them a lesson they wouldn't forget.

But her disregard only emboldened them. They began to close in.

Her fingers curled into fists, ready to strike, when a sharp yell cut through the tension.

"Back off!" shouted Lindor Mitchell.

He limped in, supported by a cane, flanked by his usual entourage.

Seriously? Him again?

Stella tilted her head, unimpressed, as Lindor glared venomously at the men surrounding her.

The thugs backed off slightly, wary of the new numbers, but one still snapped, "Who the hell are you?"

"She was the one coming onto us, acting like she wanted to put on a show. What's it to you?"

"Bullshit," Lindor snorted. "I've got first dibs on teaching her a lesson. Mind your own damn business."

He turned toward Stella, eyebrows raised, his face contorted into something uglier than mere anger.

But even with all his bluster, his injured leg had him wobbling precariously, looking utterly ridiculous.

That didn't stop him from trying to throw his weight around.

One of his lackeys held up a phone, already recording. This was supposed to be 'evidence' for Catherine Campbell.

Another guy cracked his knuckles, visibly excited. "Boss, where should we start-her face?"

The moment the words left his mouth, Stella's icy stare sliced into him.

That stunning face of hers suddenly seemed as sharp as broken glass.

"Uh." The guy flinched, swallowing hard. "Boss, maybe not the face?"

She was too beautiful; hitting her there felt instinctively wrong.

"Oh, cut the crap!" Lindor growled. "Are you hitting her or not? Mess up her damn face!"

He shot a glare at the one with the phone. "And make sure you get a good angle, or I'll beat you to a pulp instead."

"Y-yes, Boss."

The guy in front puffed out his chest, stepped toward Stella, pulled back his fist, and prepared to throw the first punch.

Those thugs suddenly moved to block the way. "Hey, we saw her first."

"Don't you know how to wait your turn?" Their leader shoved one of his own men forward.

Lindor Mitchell flared up instantly. "Like hell! Who do you think you are, trying to cut in?"

If he let them strike first, the video wouldn't make him look like the hero.

"You didn't even say who you are!" one of the thugs spat back angrily.

"Damn, check the attitude! Let's teach this punk a lesson!"

In no time, both sides were brawling in the middle of the clothing store.

Stella Dawson stood off to the side, arms crossed, casually observing the chaos unfold.

They fought fiercely enough to scare off all the other customers.

The store manager quietly called the police, not daring to intervene before they arrived.

Fifteen minutes later, Lindor and his crew emerged victorious.

He'd brought a whole entourage-six or seven men-initially just to corner Stella, which gave them the numbers advantage.

No matter how tough the other group was, they couldn't overcome being outnumbered. They eventually retreated, cursing under their breath.

"You, come here and give me a kiss," Lindor smirked at Stella.

She shot him a look of profound boredom and didn't move an inch.

Seeing her remain unfazed, Lindor lost patience. Leaning heavily on his cane, he hobbled over, reaching out roughly. "Don't make me get physical with you-"

Just then, he heard a cold chuckle. Immediately after, a sharp pain erupted in his side.

Stella had delivered a swift kick. Though not as fierce as last time, it still hurt like hell. His face contorted in pain as he hit the floor.

"You bitch!" he yelled.

"Don't you have anything better to do than harass a young woman?" a calm, authoritative voice inquired.

Lindor flinched, his expression freezing solid.

He looked up and saw Gabriel Mitchell glaring down at him. That icy stare sent chills down his spine.

Gabriel stood tall, positioning himself like a protective wall between Stella and Lindor. Dressed in a dark, impeccably tailored suit, with sharp features and an air of cool authority, he bore a faint resemblance to Alexander Sterling.

The man was exceptionally handsome. With his stern, unsmiling expression, he looked even more striking.

Stella took a subtle step back. Yes, she remembered who he was now.

The Mitchell family's eldest son, the heir to the family empire-and Lindor's older cousin.

Lindor might throw his weight around outside, bragging about being a Mitchell, but in front of his cousin, he was always put in his place.

"C-Cousin." Lindor stammered as he awkwardly climbed to his feet, visibly shrinking under Gabriel's gaze.

Gabriel's expression didn't flicker. "It seems we've been giving you too much allowance. Enough free time to bully young women now?"

"It's not like that, Cousin! She messed with Catherine first!"

In a panic, Lindor immediately tried to shift the blame onto Stella.

She stared at him, utterly incredulous.

She'd assumed he was defending Megan Lindley all along. Turns out, it was Catherine Campbell he had a crush on.

The problem was, Stella didn't even recall interacting with Catherine藩 let alone having any conflict with her.

"What on earth are you talking about? I don't even know her."

Lindor glared at her, sulking. "I just don't like your face. Is that a crime?"

"And you think I care about your opinion?" Stella scoffed. "You think you're so important that I need your approval?"

"I'm a Mitchell-"

"Shut up." Gabriel's voice was low, laced with unmistakable warning. He frowned at Lindor, cutting him off. "Apologize."

"I. Cousin." Lindor blinked, completely stunned.

An apology? To Stella? His pride wouldn't survive it.

"You don't want to apologize?" Gabriel Mitchell's tone held a clear warning. "Fine. Then consider your credit cards frozen."

Lindor Mitchell's bravado completely deflated. He stared at the floor, utterly crushed.

He mumbled toward Stella, the words clearly forced, "Sorry. I was wrong."

If the Mitchell family cut off his funds, he'd struggle to cover basic expenses. And he had already planned to buy Catherine Campbell a gift next month.

Gabriel didn't bother acknowledging his apology. He turned to Stella. "Are you alright?"

She blinked, slightly taken aback by the question.

"I'm fine," she replied with a small, wary nod. "You showed up just in time."

But she had no idea why he was here, or why he was intervening for her. They'd never spoken before. Yet, he was being. oddly courteous.

"Although," her tone sharpened slightly, "you might want to keep a closer eye on your cousin. He's running around like a rabid dog, biting people at random."

She gave him a sweet, sarcastic smile and a half-shrug.

Lindor shot her a murderous glare.

"A fair point," Gabriel replied, surprisingly agreeable.

His eyes scanned the mess of clothes scattered across the floor, his expression completely unbothered.

"I'll take everything in the store. Set aside anything that's soiled." He waved a hand casually. "Pick out a few suitable pieces for the young lady to take with her."

Stella's eyebrows shot up. "Are you. serious?"

"My cousin caused this disruption. Rectifying it is my responsibility," he stated coolly. "Consider it a gift. An apology, perhaps."

Stella didn't respond immediately. Her brows knitted slightly, clearly uncertain how to process this.

Gabriel didn't seem to mind her silence. He extended his hand. "Gabriel Mitchell. A pleasure to meet you."

The shop assistants stole glances. One couldn't hide her admiration when looking at Stella-rich, handsome, and polite? What kind of luck was that?

Stella remained motionless for a moment, but Gabriel maintained his composure. He smoothly retrieved a business card from his pocket and slipped it into her hand.

"I hope we have the opportunity to become better acquainted."

"Cousin, what are you doing?" Lindor snapped from behind, looking furious.

Gabriel tossed him an icy glance. "Why are you still here?"

Lindor shut his mouth instantly, sulking in resentful silence.

"Sir," the store manager hurried over, "this is a substantial order. It might be difficult for the young lady to carry everything herself."

"That's not a problem. Can you arrange delivery to her university?"

"Of course."

"Excellent. Then." Gabriel glanced at Stella, "which dormitory?"

She didn't answer, simply watching him quietly.

"Consider it our family's apology."

"Cousin!" Lindor looked like he was about to explode again.

"Fine. Deliver it to the City University women's dormitory," Stella said suddenly, a slight smile touching her lips as she addressed Gabriel directly.

The store manager quickly noted down the address and began organizing staff to pack everything up.

Gabriel casually handed over his card to pay, completely unfazed.

Then he pulled out his phone. "Shall we exchange contact information?"

They looked at each other, neither speaking for a moment.

Eventually, Stella scratched her chin, seemingly hesitant, then slowly retrieved her phone.

"Gabriel," a sharp, clear voice called from the store entrance.

Stella instinctively turned toward the sound, spotting Catherine Campbell, who had just walked in from who-knows-where.