Belated Moonlight: He Regretted Only After I Left-Chapter 22: He Was Very Close...

Stella Sterling looked up in fear, her gaze meeting a pair of unfathomably deep eyes.

The dim lighting in the nightclub vividly outlined the man’s sharply defined jawline, especially the small vermilion mole at the corner of his eye, which appeared even more enchanting under the hazy lights.

"Shane... Shane Donovan?" she almost blurted out.

Shane Donovan lowered his eyes, his gaze swiftly skimming over her overly revealing strap dress, his eyes darkening.

Then he extended his long arm, pulling her behind him, his broad shoulders completely shielding her from the ill-intentioned gazes.

"Who the hell dares to meddle?!" The remaining few thugs realized what was happening and angrily surrounded them.

Shane Donovan didn’t speak, only casting them an icy glance.

The next second, he moved!

"Crack!"

"Ah—!"

Harsh screams followed one after another.

He struck like lightning, his moves ruthless and deft!

A punch landed on the face of the first thug who charged forward. He then sidestepped a swinging bottle, elbowing another in the ribs, causing the man to curl up like a shrimp, unable to stand.

Without pause, a swift roundhouse kick sent the last one flying into a booth, causing a mess of cups and plates.

The entire sequence took just a dozen seconds; the previously arrogant thugs were all lying on the ground, groaning in pain, having lost all fighting prowess.

The entire venue fell silent for a moment, the only sound the deafening music still blaring in vain.

At this moment, several security guards, wearing uniforms and earpieces, rushed over.

The leading captain saw Shane Donovan, his face changing slightly, immediately bowing with respect: "Young Master Donovan, apologies, we were negligent."

Shane Donovan leisurely tidied his slightly wrinkled cuff, not sparing a glance at the people on the ground, only saying indifferently: "Clean it up."

"Yes, Young Master Donovan." The security captain quickly complied, motioning for his men to swiftly drag away the moaning individuals on the ground.

A crisis was instantly dismantled by him with absolute dominance.

The music remained blaring, but this small area fell into a peculiar silence.

Only then did Finn Lockwood come crawling over, "Boss! Are you okay? You scared me to death!"

"I’m fine..." Stella came back to her senses, realizing she was still gripping Shane Donovan’s shirt at his waist, her fingertips even feeling the taut muscle lines and warmth beneath his suit fabric.

She quickly let go, "Thank you... President Donovan."

Shane Donovan turned around, his deep gaze falling on her, his brows slightly furrowed: "Counselor Sterling, this isn’t a place you should be."

Stella pressed her lips, not yet knowing how to explain when Finn Lockwood already blurted out: "President Donovan, we’re here to collect evidence! There’s a case..."

"Finn Lockwood!" Stella hurriedly interrupted him.

But it was too late.

Shane Donovan’s gaze swept between the two, instantly understanding the situation.

His expression slightly darkened, he didn’t ask further but simply said, "This isn’t the place to talk, follow me."

With that, he turned decisively, heading towards the VIP area on the second floor.

Stella and Finn exchanged a glance, having no choice but to follow.

They passed through the noisy lobby, ascending the carpeted stairs, with the chaos below gradually fading away.

The corridor was quiet and private, as if a world apart from the chaos downstairs.

Shane pushed open the heavy door of a private room, the luxurious sight inside causing Stella’s steps to falter.

"Young Master Donovan, what’s going on? Off to play hero?" Evan Hughes raised an eyebrow, curiously eyeing Stella and the rhythmically trembling Finn Lockwood following Shane Donovan.

Finally, his gaze lingered on Stella a few seconds longer...

Eh?

This little girl looks a bit familiar?

Shane Donovan didn’t respond to him, only giving him a look then turning to Stella: "Come in and sit."

Evan Hughes immediately understood, grinning with an ambiguous smile but standing up regardless, "Alright, you guys chat, we’ll go drink elsewhere."

With that, he motioned for the other friends to leave the room, half-pushing and half-pulling the bewildered Finn Lockwood out as well.

In an instant, the lively room was left with just Shane Donovan and Stella.

The sudden quiet made the atmosphere slightly subtle.

Shane Donovan walked over to the sofa and sat down, pointing to the spot opposite, indicating for her to sit.

Stella awkwardly tugged at her too-short dress, "President Donovan..."

But before she could finish, she saw Shane leaning over, picking up an unopened bottle of mineral water from the coffee table, unscrewing it, and handing it to her.

He was very close, the cool cigar scent mixed with a faint aftershave instantly enveloping her.

"Didn’t you used to call me big brother?" He looked at her, the vermilion mole at the corner of his eye particularly alluring under the dim lights of the room, "Why so distant now that you’ve grown up?"

Stella: "..."

The Sterling and Donovan families were old family friends, but because her brother Aidan Sterling and Shane Donovan had always been at odds since they were kids, she naturally didn’t get too close to him.

Yet in her memory, it seemed she never called him brother...

Why does he keep saying she did?

Seeing Stella not responding, Shane didn’t press further, simply changing the topic, his tone unreadable, "What case requires you to personally come to such a place to gather evidence?"

Stella accepted the water, her fingertips slightly cool.

She hesitated for a moment, recalling his timely help earlier and the current situation, succinctly explaining the design company being falsely accused of plagiarism, possibly needing to find evidence of fabrication from ’Misty Riveria.’

Shane listened quietly, his fingers gently rotating his cigar.

"So..." he asked after listening, looking up at her, "just the two of you?"

"..."

She opened her mouth, wanting to defend herself but found no words to say, simply lowering her eyes.

Shane watched her head lower slightly, revealing a stretch of pale, vulnerable neck, his inexplicable anger dissipating a little.

He crushed the unlit cigar, his gaze steady on her.

"I’ll handle this matter."

Stella instinctively wanted to refuse: "No need, I can manage on my own..."

"You can manage?" Shane interrupted her, "If it weren’t for me happening to see earlier, how would you manage? With your pepper spray against four or five drunks? Or rely on your assistant who can’t even protect himself?"

His words were sharp and unrestrained.

Stella clenched her fingers.

She knew he was stating the facts, the situation earlier was indeed dangerous, and if not for his timely appearance, the consequences would have been unimaginable.

But...

"This is ’Misty Riveria.’"

Shane leaned back into the sofa, his tone calm, "Evan Hughes’ territory, very deep waters. You, a young lawyer, attempting to dig evidence here alone is akin to smashing an egg against a rock."

He paused, watching Stella’s face subtly change, continuing, "Even if by luck you got something, do you think you can leave unharmed? Stirring things up, forget the evidence, you, your client, and even your law firm could attract bigger troubles."

Every word felt like a hammer, pounding Stella’s heart.

She only thought about gathering evidence, neglecting the complex forces and risks possibly involved.

"Letting me handle this is the quickest and safest way."

The man’s tone softened a bit, "Evan is my friend. If he steps in to retrieve the surveillance from that night, question the relevant waitstaff, it would be much more effective than you two running around like headless chickens and wouldn’t alert the opposition."

Stella remained silent.

She had to admit, Shane’s solution was the best.

With his status and his relationship with Evan, handling this would be effortless, whereas it would be nearly impossible for her.

It’s just, accepting such a huge favor without reason...

Especially from her brother’s sworn enemy...

"President Donovan, thank you for your kindness, but..."

"What?" Shane raised an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly, closing the distance between them, his deep eyes seemingly able to see into her heart, "Don’t want to owe me a favor?"

"..."

To put it so bluntly...

If she nodded, wouldn’t it be a bit impolite?