Chapter 227

Chapter 227:
William gave a small nod and glanced at his phone.
Within seconds, Stella’s phone buzzed with incoming files.
She blinked at the quick response and murmured, “Thanks.”
But William only raised an eyebrow. “Don’t thank me just yet. I have a condition.”
The moment William mentioned he had a condition, Stella immediately regretted thanking him.
She stared at him warily, especially when she noticed the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Something told her she had just walked straight into a trap.
William noticed her cautious look and couldn’t help but chuckle. He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice with amusement. “Why do you look so nervous? You think I’m going to do something to you?” His breath lightly brushed her cheek. Stella instinctively tensed.
“I… When did I say that?” she muttered, flustered.
It seemed to her that he was clearly twisting her words.
William leaned back lazily. “Oh? So you’re saying you think I’m a trafficker now? Planning to sell you off?”
Stella pursed her lips. “Honestly, it’s not impossible.”
Capitalists and traffickers—same level of ruthlessness in her book. Though she had to admit, William had been generous with her. A lot more generous than most.
After a bit of playful back-and-forth, his teasing faded. The air shifted as he adopted a more serious tone.
“Nebula’s just starting to get noticed. You’ve landed a few key projects, but that doesn’t mean it’s time to relax.” He turned to her, his gaze sharp. “Next quarter, I want Nebula to stand out among the new companies—dominate the competition. I trust you can make this happen.”
Stella met his gaze head-on. There was no fear, only fire. She had already prepared for this when she agreed to run Nebula.
Comfort zones were boring.
She craved challenges.
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“I can do it,” she said firmly. “I’ll increase Nebula’s profit by fifty percent next quarter.”
William raised an eyebrow. “Ms. Russell, you’re certainly brave.” That kind of promise—even Steven wouldn’t dare make.
But coming from Stella? It didn’t sound like an exaggeration.
She caught the amused glint in his eyes and shot him a look. “Pennypincher,” she mouthed silently.
He really wanted to have his cake and eat it too.
William saw it—and instead of being offended, he actually smirked and started the car.
As the engine hummed and the city lights passed them by, Stella opened her phone and tapped into the files he’d sent.
Each message, each recording, triggered a memory—pulling her mind back to that night years ago.
.
.
.