Rumor has it that Carter Sterling, the notoriously aloof billionaire heir, never lets women get close to him. Yet, on the very first day of my return to the States, a distinct lipstick mark was plastered across his tailored suit. That same day, #SuitKissMark skyrocketed to the number one trending spot online. His face was thunderous. "Stella Vance! Look at what you've done!" I replied, the picture of innocence, "I was only trying to help you. Otherwise, your sexual orientation was going to be questioned by the press." "Get out!" 1 I took off my sunglasses and dialed the pinned number in my contacts. It was picked up on the second ring. "What do you want?" His deep, familiar, and magnetic voice came through the line. I glanced at the busy traffic outside LAX and said, "I'm at the airport. I'm giving you a chance to show your devotion. Come pick me up." "I don't have time." "Fine. Then I'll call Mason and ask him to come." I hung up before he could respond. Of course, that was a bluff. I didn't want to bring unnecessary trouble upon myself. Walking out of the terminal, I hailed a cab and hopped in. But we hadn't driven far before a sleek Rolls-Royce abruptly cut us off, forcing the cab to a halt. A figure I hadn't seen in a long time stepped out of the luxury car. He tapped on my window. "Get out." I rolled the window down, looking at him with a smirk. "Well, well, Mr. Sterling. Didn't you say you didn't have time?" He stared at me blankly. "My old man told me to come." The underlying message: I didn't want to come; I was forced. But from the moment my plane landed, I hadn't contacted anyone but him. Aside from him, no one else in the world knew I was back. I raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? Should I call your dad to verify?" I picked up my phone. He snatched it right out of my hand. "Get in or don't. Your choice." With that, he turned and walked away, taking my phone with him. I opened the door, dragged my suitcase out of the trunk, and shouted at his back, "Mr. Sterling, the least you could do is pay my cab fare!" His hand paused on the door handle. In three quick strides, he marched over, didn't even glance at the meter, and shoved a fifty-dollar bill at the driver. I smiled. "Thanks, Mr. Sterling." He shot me a glare. "Get in the car." 2 I was two years older than Carter Sterling, and we had known each other for twelve years. From the time I was just a struggling college student to my debut in Hollywood, all the way to my crowning as a Best Actress winner, he was there through it all. To say I didn't have feelings for him would be a lie. I freely admitted it: I loved him. Three years ago, we were actually together. But on the day I went to the Sterling estate as his girlfriend, I overheard his father talking in the study. "The daughter-in-law of our family will absolutely not be one of those messy girls from the entertainment industry." Hiding in the corner like a rat in the sewers, I felt utterly exposed and ashamed. That single sentence shattered me. I booked a flight out of the country that very night and hastily announced my retirement from acting. Since my parents passed away, the Sterling family had helped me out a lot, mostly on Carter's account. I was incredibly grateful. But because they had always been my benefactors, I constantly felt that Carter and I were from two different worlds. I thought that as long as I made my own money, everything would be fine. So I threw myself into Hollywood, clawing my way to the top. But in the eyes of the Sterling family, my achievements meant nothing. With their wealth, they could effortlessly manufacture a dozen actresses just like me. The pride I had built up over a decade didn't allow me to lower my head, ask why, or cling to a doomed relationship. After I went abroad, Carter called me endlessly. I didn't answer a single one. Finally, he sent a text: Why did you leave without saying a word? You couldn't even tell me? I replied: I'm just tired. At that moment, gripping my phone, I was sobbing uncontrollably. Ultimately, I wasn't worthy of him. That was the last message between us. And just like that, we cut ties for three whole years. 3 In the car, I propped my chin on my hand, watching the scenery blur past the window. Carter suddenly asked, "Why did you come back now?" I snapped out of my daze. "I just wanted to." He let out a scoff. "Couldn't make it out there in Europe?" I turned my head and saw the faint, mocking smirk on his lips. I nodded enthusiastically. "Yep. How did you know? You're so smart, Mr. Sterling. So amazing. I just love it." His face instantly darkened. "Stop making me sick." I looked at him with feigned disappointment. "Oh, fine. I guess my love is unrequited. "But that makes sense. You must be hiding a beautiful mistress somewhere. Keeping yourself free of scandals for years, letting the press think you're gay—she must really be something..." "Shut up! One more word and you're walking." He sat on the other side of the spacious backseat, shutting me down without mercy. I wasn't mad. I just nodded. "Okay. Shutting up now." A moment later, he asked again, "Tell me the truth. Did you really come back because you couldn't survive over there?" "No," I replied. "Then why did you come back?" he asked, his brow furrowing. I met his gaze, smiled, and said, "Secret." Why did I come back? Honestly, I didn't know. Maybe it was because, even after three years, he still haunted my dreams every night. I was tired of waking up crying, full of regret. Since I couldn't let it go, I had to face it eventually. Carter Sterling, long time no see. 4 Carter drove me to his mansion in Beverly Hills. I looked at the massive estate and teased him. "Bringing me here, aren't you afraid your little girlfriend will find out and get mad? "This must be your cozy little love nest." He was busy pulling my luggage out of the trunk. Without missing a beat, he said, "You're sleeping on the street tonight." I shook my head, laughing. "It's rare for you to bring me here. I can't just leave after being your hidden treasure for the night. Just thinking about it gives me a thrill." He shot me a vicious glare. "If you don't want to stay, go sleep on the porch." I chuckled, trailing behind him. Right as we stepped inside, my sharp eyes caught sight of a pair of women's slippers in the shoe cabinet. I smiled. "Mr. Sterling, these women's slippers just exposed you. "Your little wife hasn't even been gone a few days, and you're already moving another woman in? Isn't that a bit inappropriate?" He let out a cold humpf, pulled the slippers out, and threw them at my feet. "Why don't you look at the shoe size first?" "Maybe we wear the same size," I countered. "Heh. You've sure got a wild imagination. Why don't you take a sniff and see if they smell like some other woman, or if they just reek of your own foot odor?" He said this while unlocking the inner door. I couldn't help but laugh out loud. He turned back. "What are you laughing at?" "Not telling." He ignored me and pushed the door open, walking straight in. After touring the house, I realized Carter had prepared everything in advance. He had bought everything in pairs. Two toothbrushes, two mugs, and the bed in the guest room was already perfectly made. "Thanks," I said genuinely. He gave a curt nod. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught him drinking water from one of the mugs. In an instant, I noticed something. "Mr. Sterling, that mug... it looks an awful lot like a matching couple's set with mine." I leaned against the doorframe, giving him a knowing look. His hand paused, but his face remained perfectly neutral. "It was buy-one-get-one-free. I bought mine, they threw yours in." I nodded slowly. "Got it. Mr. Sterling is learning to be frugal. A mug is what, ten bucks? And you still went out of your way to find a BOGO deal. Impressive." I smiled at him. Hearing this, he practically sprinted toward his bedroom, not hesitating for a second before slamming the door shut with a loud BANG. Before the door clicked, he threw out one last sentence: "You talk too much nonsense." 5 Once I was settled in, my agent, Tara, called me. "Stella," she said. "The Foster family is hosting a gala tonight. They sent an invite. Do you want to go?" Lying on the bed, my first instinct was to text back: Not going. Just landed. Exhausted. But then I remembered Liam Foster was hosting it. He had helped me out immensely back in the day. I owed him. "I'll go," I told her. "RSVP for me." She said okay and hung up. After the call, I got up and knocked on Carter's bedroom door. "What?" came the muffled reply. "I have a gala to attend tonight. Just letting you know I'll be heading out." A moment later, he offered a brief "Hmm," acknowledging me. With his response, I went back to my room to start my makeup and get ready. To my surprise, halfway through my makeup routine, there was a knock on my door. I opened it to find Carter already dressed in a sharp tuxedo. "Aren't you going to change?" he asked. "Were you planning on walking there yourself later?" I paused, then smiled. "Seeing as Mr. Sterling is feeling so helpful, I suppose I can lower myself to ride with you." An hour and a half later, I changed into my evening gown. When I opened the door, Carter was sitting in the living room, watching TV with immense boredom, waiting for me. The moment I stepped out, his eyes locked onto me. I saw a brief, undeniable spark light up his eyes, but he quickly looked away. "You're slow, and you look ugly," he muttered. Yet, the tips of his ears were burning red. I tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear, walked up, and smiled. "Really? If this dress is so ugly, why did you keep it? Didn't I tell you to throw it away?" He didn't look back at me. "I packed it in a box and forgot to throw it out." "Ah, I see. And here I thought you kept it just for me. Silly me, being so presumptuous." Honestly, I could tell at a glance that he had never intended to throw it away. The gown had been hung perfectly in the closet, without a single wrinkle, and it even smelled faintly of expensive cedar and vanilla. Clearly, someone had taken meticulous care of it. But the man was just as stubborn as he was three years ago. 6 Actually, the Carter Sterling of today was vastly different from the Carter of three years ago. Back then, he used to follow me around like a lost, over-eager golden retriever, arrogant to the world but sweet to me. This cold, aloof, sharp-tongued persona was reserved only for strangers back then. But the blatant favoritism he used to show me had dissipated over time, leaving no trace behind. I climbed into Carter's Rolls-Royce in my gown. As I ducked to get in, he stood behind me and muttered, "Next time you get in and out of a car, remember to cover your chest." I slid into the seat, instantly knowing what he meant. Having been a star for years, I knew all the tricks to avoid wardrobe malfunctions. I was just so used to being comfortable around him that I hadn't bothered. But I replied anyway, "Got it. I'll be careful next time. Thanks for the tip, Mr. Sterling." He didn't answer. He just opened the door and slid into the seat on the opposite side of the spacious back row. Once he was in, the driver pulled away, heading for our destination. Familiar Los Angeles scenery flashed by the window, scene by scene. It was hard to believe that after three years, I was actually back here. I had fled in a panic back then, but now, I felt entirely fearless. I had nothing left to lose. If things went terribly wrong, I'd just leave the country again. I turned my head to look at Carter. He was leaning against the leather seat, his eyes closed, resting. After a long while, his lips twitched. "How much longer are you going to stare at me?" Hearing that, my eyes drifted to his ears. They were bright red. I leaned in close and whispered, "I didn't want to stare. It's just... this is the first time I've ever seen Mr. Sterling with his ears this red." The moment the words left my mouth, I saw his body visibly stiffen. A second later, he hit the button to raise the privacy partition between us and the driver. He shifted as far away from me as possible and muttered, "It's a natural physiological response." And then, his ears turned even redder. In fact, a flush started creeping up his neck and cheeks. Realizing he was completely compromised, he turned his head entirely toward the window, hiding his face from me. I smiled softly and turned back to look out my own window. 7 Half an hour later, Carter's car pulled into the Foster estate's private driveway. Looking out, the red carpet entrance was already swarming with paparazzi and journalists. After Carter stepped out, he looked back at me, still dawdling in the backseat. "Are you coming or not?" "You go ahead," I replied. "It wouldn't be good if the press caught us together right now." His expression instantly darkened. "Suit yourself." He turned and walked away with long, angry strides. Watching his retreating back, I let out a helpless sigh. I wanted to stand beside him under the flashing lights too. I wanted to be his plus-one. But this was my very first day back. If I was photographed with Carter Sterling right now, God knows what kind of rumors would explode. If his family found out and grew disgusted with me again, it would be a disaster. I couldn't rush this. I had to take it one step at a time. I waited a few minutes after Carter entered before smoothing my hair, lifting the hem of my gown, and stepping out into the spotlight. The moment I appeared, the relentless clicking of cameras abruptly stopped. In the dead silence, I heard someone ask weakly, "Is... is that the Best Actress winner, Stella Vance?" I lifted my chin, smiled flawlessly at the crowd, and said, "Yes. It's Stella Vance." The next second, the camera shutters went absolutely crazy, deafeningly loud. My sudden retirement three years ago had sparked endless debates, and then I had simply vanished from the face of the earth. Now that I was suddenly back, to them, I was the biggest headline of the night. Having survived in Hollywood for years, I knew exactly what the media wanted. "Miss Vance, why did you really retire three years ago?" "Why are you making an appearance now?" "Miss Vance, does this mean you're planning a massive Hollywood comeback?" The questions fired at me like machine guns. I lowered my head, offering a polite, practiced smile. "I'm sorry, it's not convenient to answer these questions at the moment." Because honestly, I didn't have the answers myself. Ignoring the clamoring voices behind me, I lifted my dress and elegantly glided into the gala venue. 8 As soon as I walked through the doors, I spotted Carter talking to Liam Foster. Carter turned his head toward me, and Liam's gaze followed his. In an instant, Liam's eyes lit up. "Well, well! Stella, you finally made it!" I smiled and stepped forward to give him a hug. "Liam, it's been way too long." He patted my back affectionately. "Way too long." Ten years ago, it was Liam who gave me my first big break in the industry. The only reason I survived the shark-infested waters of Hollywood for so long was because of his protection. I owed him a lot. I pulled back, looked at him, and joked, "Liam, I came to your gala on my very first day back in the country. Doesn't that show how much I respect you?" He nodded. "Absolutely. You're much better to me than this guy. I asked Carter to come show his face, and he flat-out told me he wasn't coming." "Really?" I paused, slightly surprised. "Yeah," Liam continued. "At first he said no. But then, out of nowhere, he texted me saying he was coming. "Tsk, tsk. You kids these days. I'm getting too old to understand you. "Especially you two. Showing up separately? I really don't get the games you little couples play." Liam's teasing had me laughing uncontrollably. I quickly clarified, "Liam, you better be careful with those words. In the eyes of the public, Carter and I are completely unrelated. "If the media heard you say that, we'd be doomed. "Besides, we aren't even together right now. Calling us a 'couple' is a bit premature. But I'll take it as a blessing." Right as I finished speaking, Carter, who had walked off to grab a glass of wine, returned. "What are you laughing about?" I smiled. "A secret between Liam and me." He let out a cold scoff. "Whatever. Like I care." He took a sip of his wine, turned on his heel, and walked off to mingle with the other guests. 9 Because my return was so sudden, many of my old industry friends were shocked and came over to chat. There were also a few bitter rivals who came over to throw some thinly veiled insults my way. It was all harmless, petty noise. I was thinking about this while taking a sip of my wine. When I looked up, I saw a familiar figure approaching. He clinked his glass gently against mine and offered a charismatic smile. "Stella Vance. Long time no see. You've been quite popular tonight." I curled my lips into a polite smile. "Mason Wright. You haven't been doing too badly yourself." "Compared to you, I'm falling behind. I've been watching you all night, trying to find a window to come say hi. I had to sneak over just to get a word in." "You're joking, Mason. I saw you chatting up all those gorgeous young starlets all evening. You didn't have time for me. "I'm practically ancient in Hollywood years. I can't compete with these fresh, dewy new actresses. They're so delicate and stunning; even I can't take my eyes off them." I laid the compliments on thick, but he just laughed dismissively. "What's the point of a pretty face? They're like empty vases. Ask them to do a crying scene, and they can't even squeeze out a single tear. It's a waste of my time." I put a finger to my lips in a "shush" motion. "Mason, there are ears everywhere. Loose lips sink ships." He understood my warning, smiled, nodded, and clinked my glass again. Right as our glasses touched, a third glass aggressively inserted itself between ours. I looked up. Carter had materialized out of nowhere. He was smirking, but his eyes were incredibly cold. "Mason. Stella. What are we chatting about? Mind if I join in?" I looked at Mason. "Mason, what were we just talking about?" Following my lead, he looked at Carter with feigned innocence. "Nothing really. We were just about to start catching up when you walked over." Hearing this, Carter's face darkened visibly. "If you haven't started, then don't." He sounded like he was grinding his teeth. Then, he turned his piercing gaze on me. "Wait for me later. We're going home together." I shook my head. "No thanks. There are too many people watching. I already had Tara send a van for me. I'll take my own ride back." He gave a stiff nod, turned, and walked away. His expression was downright murderous. 10 After Carter left, Mason looked at me in shock. "Are you two living together?" I offered a dazzling smile. "Just like you heard." "So... are you guys back together?" he asked again. This time, I shook my head. "Not exactly. He's my sponsor. I'm his hidden little trophy." After delivering that line with a laugh, I put my glass down and walked away, leaving Mason standing there, utterly bewildered. Hey, he paid my fifty-dollar cab fare. Doesn't that count as being a sugar daddy? Let him interpret it however he wants. But before I headed home, I had one last piece of business to take care of. I pulled out my phone and sent Carter a text. Moments later, he appeared in front of me. "What?" he asked, his face still looking like a storm cloud. I grabbed his arm, pulled him into a quiet, secluded corner, and smiled. "Mr. Sterling, your suit is dirty." He frowned, looking down at his chest. "No it's not." He turned to leave, but I quickly grabbed his arm and pointed to his back, where he couldn't see. "It's on your back. Let me brush it off for you. "You're too handsome to walk out of here with a dirty suit. The paparazzi are going to take pictures, and we can't have your flawless outfit ruined." Seeing my entirely serious expression, he didn't doubt me. He turned around, offering me his back. I pretended to dust off his jacket, giving it a few firm pats. Then, seizing the moment, I leaned in and pressed my lips firmly against the dark fabric of his shoulder blade. Stepping back, I said, "All clean. But your tie is a little crooked. Let me fix that for you too." He turned back around to face me, his gaze dropping to my chest for a split second before darting away. I was wearing a strapless gown today. I adjusted his tie, smiled, and said, "Perfect." Without a word, he turned and practically fled down the hallway. I called out to his retreating back, "Mr. Sterling, you're going the wrong way. The exit is in the other direction." His footsteps halted abruptly. He kept his head down and quickly pivoted, marching hastily toward the correct exit. Watching him, I couldn't hold back a genuine laugh. 11 By the time I left the gala and made it to the underground parking garage, Tara was already waiting for me. I had specifically asked her to swap out the van I used three years ago for a new one the media wouldn't recognize. I didn't want my entire life completely dug up on my very first day back. The van drove out of the garage. As we passed the main entrance, I saw a massive mob of paparazzi still waiting. They had absolutely no idea I was sitting in the unremarkable black van that drove right past them. I made it back to Carter's mansion without a hitch. But the moment I unlocked the door, I was met with Carter standing in the foyer, his face black with rage. He was holding his suit jacket, pointing a trembling finger at the lipstick mark on the back. "Stella Vance! Look at what you've done! You better give me a damn good explanation for what this is!" "Just what it looks like, Mr. Sterling. A lipstick mark." "I'm asking you why you put it there!" "Do you have any idea that the number one trending topic online right now is this exact lipstick mark?!" Carter glared at me, absolutely furious. I calmly pulled out my phone, checked Twitter, looked up at him, and smiled. "Mr. Sterling, the number one trending topic just changed." However... #CarterSterlingSuitKiss The popularity of that hashtag was neck-and-neck with #StellaVanceReturns. If you refreshed the page, they kept swapping between the number one and number two spots. Clearly, Carter wasn't satisfied with my nonchalant response. He continued: "The point isn't whether it's number one or number two! I'm asking you why you did it!" I looked at him with wide, innocent eyes. "I was only trying to help you. Otherwise, your sexual orientation was going to be questioned. "Before I came back, I read the gossip blogs. The media was already starting to think you were into men. If I didn't help you out, you were going to be permanently labeled as gay." "Get out!" "OK." I smiled, nodded politely, and walked straight to my guest room. 12 The truth was, that lipstick mark wasn't just to tease Carter or generate cheap hype. My real goal was... I needed to know who had gotten close to him over the past three years, and who dared to manufacture scandals with him. I had been gone long enough for another woman to claim a place in his life. When you're starting at a disadvantage, you have to play a little dirty. ... I sat back and watched the trending topics explode, watching as the media dug up Carter's past "scandals." Soon, several new hashtags related to him shot up the trending list. #LipstickShade #LipPrintMatch Seeing those two hashtags made my heart skip a beat. Never underestimate the terrifying investigative power of the internet. Because Carter hadn't had a lipstick mark when he entered the venue, it meant the kiss had to happen during the gala. Internet sleuths compiled a list of every woman at the event, analyzing their lipstick shades to cross-reference with the mark on the black suit. However, distinguishing red shades on black fabric is notoriously difficult. Several women's lipstick shades were deemed "possible matches"—including mine. When they couldn't definitively prove the shade, they started analyzing the lip print itself. Thank God I had the foresight to press my lips down twice, overlapping the prints, making it completely impossible to extract a clear lip pattern. I let out a breath of relief and kept scrolling. Then I saw... #CarterSterlingChloeDavis #BillionaireHeirSecretGirlfriend #MatchingCouplesOutfits The words "Matching Couples Outfits" caught my attention instantly. I clicked on the hashtag. Fans had pointed out that the sleek, modern cheongsam dress Chloe Davis wore to the gala shared an incredibly high design overlap with Carter's suit. Not only were the color palettes identical, but the intricate embroidery patterns were shockingly similar. Furthermore, the lipstick Chloe wore tonight was a near-perfect match for the smudge on the suit. Piece by piece, the internet was building a bulletproof case: they were a secret couple, and they had worn matching outfits. But I absolutely refused to accept that. Because I designed the suit Carter wore tonight. It was my 18th birthday present to him. To me, it held immense sentimental value. Furious, I took a screenshot of the trending page and texted it to Carter. [Kiddo, I custom-designed that suit for you, and you turned around and gave the design to your little girlfriend to make a matching dress? Do you have any respect for me?] He replied instantly: [Stella, what kind of psychotic break are you having tonight? I don't have a girlfriend! [And I had no idea about her dress. I'm taking care of it now.] [Okay then.] 13 After that, I sent him a barrage of voice memos. "I'm so sorry, sweetie. I had no idea doing that would cause you so much trouble. It's all my fault. Please don't be mad. "Going to bed angry is bad for your health. "Goodnight. Sweet dreams." I made my voice as soft and gentle as humanly possible, sounding as innocent as a lamb. After all, when you make a mistake, you have to own up to it. Even men need a little coaxing sometimes. Not long after, Carter sent me a screenshot. It was a text conversation. Carter had directly confronted Chloe Davis, demanding an explanation. He bluntly stated that if she didn't issue a public apology immediately, he would ensure she was entirely blacklisted from the industry. Chloe instantly folded and begged for mercy. I opened the trending page again. #ChloeDavisApologizes It was hanging brightly at the very top of the list. Chloe's official statement: "Thank you all for the love and attention regarding my dress tonight. However, I must sincerely apologize to Mr. Carter Sterling. My dress and Mr. Sterling's suit were NOT matching couples' outfits. I saw how stunning Mr. Sterling's suit was in the past and commissioned a replica design for myself. I never expected it to cause such a massive misunderstanding and controversy. I am incredibly sorry. I promise not to make this kind of mistake again, and I hope you will all give me a chance to learn from this. Thank you." I clicked on the comments. "Ahhh! They were so gorgeous together! I was shipping them so hard, and the ship sank in less than an hour! Sobbing!" "God! I really thought they were dating!" "This debunking happened way too fast. Did the real 'Mrs. Sterling' get mad?" Replies flooded in beneath that comment. "I think so too! The real girlfriend definitely laid down the law. Otherwise, Carter wouldn't have been so ruthless." "Do you guys think it could be Stella Vance? She comes back, and the exact same night Carter gets a kiss mark on his suit? That's too much of a coincidence. He's never had a scandal like this before." "Are you insane? Anyone saying they're together knows nothing about them. People investigated this years ago. The only connection they have is going to the same high school and the same university." "I also feel like it's Stella. Just a gut feeling." The internet was in chaos, throwing around endless theories, but no one could prove a thing. Then, a new hashtag appeared. #HowTheInvisibleMrsSterlingControlsHollywood Seeing that, I couldn't help but burst out laughing. The internet's imagination truly was boundless.
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "421034", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel