My Amnesic Ex Married My Sister, So I Married His Uncle-Chapter 16: Ambiguous Words

Stella drifted off again for a while, and the next time she saw Owen Rhodes, it was in the villa’s dining room.

When she arrived, Owen Rhodes had changed into a set of casual loungewear.

He was just setting down two plates of freshly made soft-boiled eggs, one at each of the two seats facing each other at the dining table.

Stella had an irregular sleep schedule and rarely got up on her own for breakfast.

The reason she was up today was partly because she had trouble sleeping in an unfamiliar bed and couldn’t get a sound sleep.

And for another, after being woken early by her "suddenly absconded personal heater," she hadn’t been able to fall back into a deep sleep.

Since she wasn’t sleeping comfortably anyway, she decided to just get up and try to sleep again later.

Unlike her, Owen Rhodes kept a regular schedule and was used to waking up early.

His internal clock was practically set: up at 6:30 a.m., an hour-long morning run, then back to wash up and eat breakfast.

He’d gotten a shock himself when he first woke up this morning.

The person who’d been a whole galaxy away from him before bed last night had somehow appeared, fresh and lovely, in his arms first thing in the morning.

And she was clinging to him, refusing to let go.

He hadn’t wanted to wake her, but the moment he pulled away slightly, she snuggled right back up to him.

She was even frowning in her sleep, looking quite displeased.

The hugging was one thing, but then she started nuzzling.

Just like a little kitten.

When he saw she was awake, he couldn’t resist teasing her a bit, and the poor girl looked like she wanted to sew herself into the blankets.

So Owen stopped teasing her.

To let her rest properly, he simply got up and went out for his morning run.

When he returned, Stella was asleep again.

On the huge king-sized bed, Stella was curled up like a little shrimp in the very center, her long, curly hair fanned out behind her like spilled ink.

She must not have been sleeping soundly, as her brow was furrowed, making her look adorably pitiful.

She was still asleep when he came out after washing up.

He hadn’t expected her to actually show up in the dining room.

Stella was still wearing the pajamas Owen had someone arrange for her at the last minute yesterday.

It was a long-sleeved, smoky-pink silk set. The size was a bit too large; when she let her arms hang down, her hands were completely enveloped in the sleeves. To even raise a hand to rub her eyes, she first had to shake the fabric down a bit.

The clothes didn’t quite fit, but she looked adorable.

Owen arranged the chopsticks and said with a smile, "Did you follow your nose?"

’He makes it sound like I’m a total glutton.’

"Of course not..."

"Do you eat soft-boiled eggs?"

Stella, her eyes still heavy with sleep, glanced at the breakfast on the table and nodded unguardedly. "Yeah."

"Milk or soy milk?"

"Milk, I guess."

"Salad sandwich or ham sandwich?"

"Salad."

"Did you sleep well last night?"

"It was fine, I just woke up too early—"

Huh???

Stella was instantly wide awake. ’So that’s what he was waiting for!’

She glared at Owen with wide eyes, while Tate stood nearby, covering her mouth to stifle a laugh.

"Well, as it happens, I have to go on a business trip for a few days. You can get some proper rest. Go to bed early, and I won’t disturb you."

"..."

’Why did he have to phrase it so suggestively?’

Owen guided her to a seat at the table and pressed the chopsticks into her hand.

"Ready for breakfast, Mrs. Rhodes?"

—Mrs. Rhodes.

The memory she’d buried last night came rushing back to attack her.

She hadn’t paid it any mind at the time, but thinking back now, she realized the most terrifying part was her one-word reply: "Okay."

’Good heavens, what had she said!’

’It made her sound like some shameless, love-struck girl!’

’That bastard Owen, setting a verbal trap for her!’

Owen didn’t know what was on her mind, but judging by her expression, it couldn’t be anything good.

He began giving her instructions. "I’ll be on a business trip for a week, but I’ll be back as soon as I can. I’m leaving Liam Hawthorne with you. Take him along when you go out."

He wasn’t sure if Stella was actually listening, but she nodded her head anyway.

"Call me if anything comes up. Or text, that’s fine too."

Another nod.

"It’s unlikely, but if anyone comes looking for you, just have Liam Hawthorne handle it."

She kept nodding.

"Stella."

Stella jolted, startled at the sudden use of her name.

"Huh?"

Owen’s gaze fell on her plate, his brow furrowing slightly.

"If you don’t like soft-boiled eggs, you can just say so. You don’t have to force yourself. It’s fine."

While she had been lost in thought, she had been holding her chopsticks and unconsciously prodding at her plate.

The soft-boiled egg, with its perfectly runny yolk, had been smeared all over her plate like some kind of abstract painting.

Stella silently added this to the list of grievances she held against Owen in her petty little heart. She then ruthlessly took her anger out on the egg:

"...It’s too runny."

"Okay. I’ll do better next time."

It took a moment for his words to register. She looked up, her expression a mixture of surprise and innocence.

"You made this?"

Owen took the bright yellow plate from in front of her and, without a word, finished off the mauled soft-boiled egg.

Stella felt a pang of guilt. "I’m sorry, I didn’t know... I didn’t mean I disliked it..."

Owen didn’t say anything, so Stella kept trying to backpedal.

"I actually love soft-boiled eggs, really! I was just... being grumpy because I just woke up! Yes, that’s it!"

Owen gave her an impassive look and was about to speak when Mr. Joel hurried over, holding out a buzzing phone.

He glanced at the caller ID, took the phone, and stood up.

As he walked past Stella, his large hand came to rest on the crown of her head.

"I just wanted to know your preferences, that’s all. Don’t be so nervous. Eat your breakfast. I have to take this call."

Stella decided she must not have gotten enough sleep last night, because her head felt all light and floaty again.

Owen walked to the study.

He casually leaned back against the large desk, gazing at the bright sun outside the window.

The buzzing stopped, then started again. Only then did he deign to answer the call.

Owen didn’t speak. The person on the other end had already introduced himself respectfully.

"President Rhodes, hello. This is Chase Sterling. I hope I’m not disturbing you?"

Owen’s voice was cold and distant. "You are."

"..."

The rest of Chase Sterling’s words caught in his throat.

He knew the man was difficult, but he hadn’t realized he was *this* difficult.

He wouldn’t have made this call if he hadn’t been completely unable to reach Stella.

On the day Kiana Sterling fainted in Lumina, Joel Joyce had reported to him late at night that he’d seen Owen Rhodes with Stella Sterling.

Not only that, but Owen had also taken Stella from the hospital.

At first, he’d just assumed Joel Joyce had seen wrong.

Who was Owen Rhodes, after all?

He was the current head of the Rhodes Family, the man at the very heart of Jandor’s economy, not to mention Ethan Rhodes’s uncle.

Leaving aside how he would even know an obscure figure like Stella, even if they did know each other, why would Owen Rhodes take her away for no reason?

But ever since that night, Stella had been completely unreachable.

Her phone was off, she wasn’t replying to messages, and Joel Joyce had turned the entire Isle of Lumina upside down several times without finding so much as a single strand of her hair.

Now, this was just a desperate, last-ditch effort.

With that thought, Chase Sterling sighed to himself and braced himself to speak again.

"My apologies, President Rhodes. I’ll be brief. Someone mentioned seeing you in Lumina with my younger sister. I was just wondering if you’ve seen her?"

Owen didn’t respond, so Chase continued, "My sister had a bit of a falling-out with the family. We can’t reach her now, and we’re honestly very worried..."

Owen’s continued silence made Chase’s anxiety skyrocket.

After a long moment, Owen said coldly, "Young President Sterling, I’m not a police officer."

The implication was clear: finding people wasn’t his job.

The next second, he hung up.

Chase Sterling frowned.

’I knew I shouldn’t have made that call.’

Chase looked at the photos on his computer that Joel Joyce had sent over a short while ago. They were from the hospital’s security footage.

In a few of the shots, the man did indeed look like Owen Rhodes.

But in terms of dress and overall presence, he was a world apart from the Owen Rhodes he knew.

Chase’s brow furrowed even deeper.

’Where on earth did Stella run off to?!’