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

The man commanded attention, his tall frame radiating an aura of authority. His features were sharply defined, cool and composed, placing him roughly in Alexander Sterling's league.

"Mr. Mitchell..." the assistant trailing Alexander began, keeping his gaze lowered.

"Get the title right," Stella Dawson cut him off with a sharp sideways glance. "It's Miss Dawson now. Not Mrs. Sterling. Show some basic respect, why don't you?"

She let the empty glass drop to the floor with a definitive clatter, her expression going blank. "Whatever. I'm done here."

As Stella turned to leave, her steps slightly unsteady, she waved a dismissive hand. Kevin Porter fell into step immediately. "You got it, boss."

He took a few steps, then turned back to haul a dazed Rex Turner up by the arm.

"Snap out of it, man," Kevin teased, grinning. "Weren't you listening? Stella said both of us."

"Oh, right... yeah..." Rex stumbled after them in a fluster.

Stella let out a quiet sigh but didn't look back. She didn't bother correcting Kevin's fabricated narrative, letting it stand.

Frankly, her reputation wasn't worth protecting anymore.

The trio soon vanished from view.

Ethan Mitchell watched them go, a smirk playing on his lips as he turned to Alexander. "So, you're just letting your ex-wife stroll off into the sunset with her entourage?"

"That's the 'empty-headed' girl you used to complain about? She seems plenty sharp to me."

"We are divorced," Alexander bit out, his voice clipped.

He wiped the residual liquor from his face with a tissue, a quiet, bitter laugh escaping him.

He had seriously underestimated Stella, genuinely believing her to be a vapid mess.

Ethan raised his brows, clearly surprised. "You finalized it already?"

"Obviously," Alexander replied, lifting his chin defiantly.

"Didn't her grandfather pass just a few months back? And you cast aside the girl he practically gifted-wrapped for you? That's... cold, man," Ethan remarked casually.

"You want to know why?" Alexander growled. "She stormed into my office, hijacked my computer, and emailed the entire company ranting about how I... ugh, never mind!"

Ethan barely managed to stifle a snort.

He clapped a hand on Alexander's shoulder, feigning sympathy. "Okay, yeah. That's pretty brutal."

"Hey, no joke though... are you, uh... functioning alright down there?" he continued, leaning in with mock concern. "I know some specialists. Five grand a session, but for you, I'll call in a favor."

Alexander shoved his hand away with a scowl. "Piss off!"

...

"Kevin, go get me some ice cream. It's sweltering."

Stella slumped back in her chair, her tone lazily authoritative.

After leaving the Moonlight Club, she had brought Kevin and Rex to a nearby café.

The heat was oppressive. Even though night had fallen, the pavement still radiated a residual oven-like warmth.

Kevin nodded and started to rise, but Rex was quicker.

"I-I'll go," Rex muttered, glancing uncertainly at Stella. "My treat."

"Alright then, thanks." She gave a small, appreciative wink and a warm smile.

Bolstered, Rex hurried to the counter and quietly placed their order.

"Damn, Stella, that face of yours is a lethal weapon," Kevin joked, grinning. "No man is safe."

Seriously, with her looks, someone ten times more accomplished than Alexander still wouldn't be enough for her. That man must be blind.

What was his problem, anyway?

"Hey, maybe we should just pay that guy off and send him home?" Kevin gestured subtly toward the man waiting at the counter. "He doesn't exactly scream 'top-tier host.'"

Couldn't hold a conversation, was terrible at flirting, and even told customers the blunt truth-yeah, probably not cut out for this line of work.

"Don't you know what really makes a successful male escort?"

"He's... refreshingly different," Stella Dawson said, a hint of a smile touching her lips.

Just then, Rex returned carrying several cups of ice cream.

He handed one to her and one to Kevin.

The café next to the Moonlight Club was actually more famous for its desserts.

Kevin didn't hold back, taking an immediate large bite. "Good call. This hits the spot."

"So, seriously," he continued, mouth still half-full, "what made you want to get into this business? You don't seem... prepared."

"I'm feeling generous today," he added, rubbing his hands together with a teasing grin. "Maybe I can set you up with a better gig."

Stella shot him a warning look-sharp enough to make Kevin drop the smirk and straighten up. He rolled his eyes slightly before turning back to Rex with a more serious expression.

"Relax, I'm just messing with you." He slung an arm around Rex's shoulder. "Come on, let's bounce. This place has too many busybodies."

Rex hesitated, his eyes flicking between Kevin and Stella. Ultimately, he didn't shake off the arm.

Kevin had a driver waiting out front, parked curbside in a conspicuously flashy white sports car.

Rex stood silent for a moment before sliding into the backseat with them.

Meanwhile, under the shadows nearby, Alexander Sterling stood watching, his fingers lightly tracing the wooden bead on the red string around his neck. His face was an unreadable mask, but a cold intensity simmered beneath the surface.

Jack Holden stood beside him, awkwardly silent, searching for the right words.

"That woman... it was Stella Dawson?" Alexander asked suddenly, his voice low. "Surrounded by hired men? Clinging to them?"

Jack stiffened. "I... I believe so..."

"It was her," Alexander stated, cold and final.

"Y-yes... that was Ms. Dawson," Jack muttered nervously, his eyes darting away.

Alexander's face darkened further as he stared at the departing sports car.

"Don't call her that. She's irrelevant," he snapped, yanking open the Rolls-Royce door. "Let's go."

The passenger door slammed shut with a heavy thud. The car sped off, leaving Jack standing on the curb with a defeated sigh.

Man, the boss has been in a foul mood lately-best not to provoke him.

He didn't dare say another word. Simply pulled out his phone to call a cab to follow them.

.

After the long night at Moonlight Club, Stella basically hibernated for two full days.

Technically, the villa wasn't hers. But since Alexander had ceased to appear months ago, she saw no reason to leave.

Still, a trip to the Dawson residence was unavoidable-she needed to retrieve her student ID.

And something even more crucial.

She tugged the brim of her cap lower and strode into the Dawson villa, her face set in a cold, impassive mask.

One of the maids recognized her immediately. Dressed in an oversized sweatshirt and loose-fitting pants, she was a far cry from the expected high-society attire.

The maid looked startled. "Miss."

"Hey, who is it?" a haughty voice called from the top of the staircase.

A girl, dressed as if for a photoshoot, appeared on the landing, her chin lifted imperiously as she looked down and questioned the maid.

Stella flexed her fingers slightly, her expression flat but her mind buzzing with silent sarcasm.

Wow. Settled into the 'precious daughter' role pretty fast, didn't she?

"Miss Emily, this is Miss Stella." the maid said gingerly.

Emily Dawson paused. She turned slowly, her eyes locking onto Stella's bored, disinterested face.

Even with the cap pulled low, it couldn't conceal her delicate, striking features. However much Emily loathed her, she had to admit-Stella was devastatingly beautiful.

Even devoid of expression, her flawless complexion and perfect bone structure seemed almost unreal.

That very beauty only stoked the fires of Emily's seething jealousy.

Her expression contorted rapidly, a chaotic swirl of emotions-envy, rage, bitter resentment-flashing across her face.

Why does she get to look like that?

What makes her so special?