Chapter 13: Accept the Invitation

Stefan quietly stared at Dorothy, watching her go crazy openly.

"This isn't normal, Stefan. The other day, I saw you struggle to stand. You fell, you were in so much pain, yet you couldn't cry because it was hard to even speak. Then overnight, you're suddenly walking and talking like nothing happened," Dorothy said. She couldn't understand the algorithm—something didn't add up.

"What's so hard to believe? I recovered after nine years. Why do you make it sound like it happened overnight?" Stefan asked, furrowing his brows.

"It did happen over nine years, but it feels sudden. I know you understand what I'm talking about," Dorothy replied.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Stefan shrugged. 

"Stefan, a cripple don't just walk overnight" Dorothy said and Stefan's face changed, he looked like he was offended for a second. Never had he ever imagined Dorothy calling him crippled.

"All I know is you people are weird" He replied, staring straight into her eyes. "When it took years to get better, you said it was too long. Now that it finally happened, you say it was too fast. I'm just trying to understand the logic here," he said casually.

His facial expression gave no indication of inner turmoil, unlike Dorothy's.

She opened her mouth to ask more questions, but the sound of the doorbell made her pause. Griffin opened the door for the food delivery guy.

"Come in and set it up on the table," Griffin instructed, gesturing to the large dining table.

The delivery guy hesitated but eventually entered, arranging the food as instructed. Once he was done, he looked between Griffin, Stefan, and Dorothy, unsure of who would tip him. Instead, Griffin handed him a chopstick.

He took it, confused.

"Taste your food. If you're still alive after ten minutes, you'll get double your tip," Griffin ordered.

The delivery guy looked flabbergasted and so did Dorothy. Her eyes widened in disbelief. She turned to Stefan, unable to believe he would have Griffin do something like this.

"This is ridiculous, Stefan. Just tip the poor man and let him go. He looks harmless," she protested.

"I told you, the ones who look harmless are often the demons dressed in angel wings," Stefan replied simply.

The delivery guy confused but did as told. He tasted each dish with the chopstick while Stefan watched him closely. After taking a bite, he began coughing uncontrollably. Dorothy's eyes widened, but Stefan remained unfazed.

The man shook his head amidst the coughing. "It's not poisoned, I swear. The soup is just really spicy, and I can't handle spice," he explained.

Dorothy quickly handed him a bottle of water. Once he calmed down, Stefan stared at him blankly.

"Mr. Stefan's wife can't eat now because you've coughed into the food. Bring a fresh order, and we'll pay you triple," Griffin said.

The man nodded, making a call to arrange a replacement, while the contaminated food was taken away.

"He probably thinks you're the weirdest customer he's ever met," Dorothy said after the new food arrived.

"I don't care what he thinks," Stefan replied nonchalantly.

As Dorothy watched him, she wondered what she had gotten herself into by marrying him. She picked up the chopsticks, taking a bite and chewing slowly.

"When you're done eating, let me know the list of things you want to do in Paris, and I'll make sure your dreams come true," Stefan said, making Dorothy pause mid-chew.

"What?"

"I said, tell me everything you want to do in Paris, and I'll make it happen," he repeated. "You don't have to think about it now. Eat, rest, and find me when you're done," Stefan added, patting her head before walking away.

Dorothy watched him leave.

"What is wrong with him?" she couldn't help but wonder.

Meanwhile, at a prestigious company in Los Angeles, a sleek deep blue Mercedes-Benz pulled into the parking lot. The chauffeur stepped out, opening the door for Tasha.

Dressed in a skimpy red dress, dark sunglasses, and a black scarf draped off her shoulders, it was hard to believe she was over 40.

"Welcome, Mrs. Tasha," employees greeted her. Instead of responding, she handed her bag to her personal assistant.

"Make sure there's a freshly squeezed orange juice on my desk. I'm famished," Tasha said, stretching her neck.

"Yes, ma’am," Anika, her assistant, hurried to fulfill the order.

When Tasha entered her office, a black envelope was waiting on her desk. She picked it up curiously and opened it, her face flushing at the sight of the photos inside. She quickly sealed the envelope back.

"Anika!" she called.

"Yes, ma’am," Anika rushed in with the orange juice.

"Who came into my office and left this?" Tasha asked, showing her the envelope.

"I was going to mention it, ma’am, but you had already received the package. I’m so sorry—"

"Anika, you had one job, and you still managed to mess it up. I told you never to accept any package without my approval! You're incompetent. In fact, everyone here is incompetent!" Tasha snapped before storming out of the office.

Anika sighed helplessly. Tasha always found a reason to yell, even when nothing was wrong.

Back in her car, Tasha reopened the envelope, staring at the photo—it showed her with an unfamiliar man. She admired it for a few seconds before pulling out a fancy lighter from her purse and burning the picture.

"Mr. Stefan, your stepmother received your warning," Griffin reported as he entered Stefan’s room.

"Good," Stefan replied simply. He was seated at his desk, going through files. Pausing, he asked, "What is Dorothy doing now?"

"Young mistress is in the living room, making the list you asked for," Griffin answered respectfully.

"She must love Paris a lot," Stefan murmured to himself.

"I guess so. Kai called earlier about the Tycoons’ Gala. He said you were invited this year. Should I have him decline the invitation?" Griffin asked.

Stefan remained silent for a moment. He never enjoyed public gatherings—back when he couldn't walk, he had been the center of attention, and Tasha and Tristan had always found ways to humiliate him.

"Accept the invitation."

"Very well, sir. I'll inform Kai," Griffin replied.

Stefan stood up and left the room. In the dining area, Dorothy was writing enthusiastically, slowing down when she noticed she wasn't alone.

"That excited?" Stefan approached her. He took the list from her and scanned it. He stared at her and her face was a bit red.

"You want us to have dinner at the Seine River?" He asked, looking at her with a soft expression on his face.