Dear Ex-wife Marry Me

Stella visibly breathed a sigh of relief, a fleeting look of gratitude in her eyes.

"So, are you leaving now? Can I hitch a ride with you?"

Beck flicked his cigarette butt into a nearby trash can without giving her another glance.

Yet, Stella shamelessly caught up, peeking out from behind him.

"Beck, you're not going to make me call an Uber back, are you? It's tough to get a ride from a casino at this hour."

Beck's expression darkened. Initially, he had his suspicions, but now he was certain-this woman was definitely not a part of the Sanders clan.

She was just desperately seeking an identity to save her skin, hence setting her sights on the Sanders family.

As for how she managed to fool the DNA tests twice, it seemed she knew where the real Stella was.

Approaching his car, Beck saw Stella standing outside, looking pitiful, and felt a surge of irritation. "Jennie?"

Stella froze, touching her nose.

"That was just a nickname from my waitressing days. Plus, Beck, you obviously wouldn't want to acknowledge someone like me as your sister. It's better for you if I say we don't know each other." Beck let out a scoff, opened his car door, and climbed in.

Stella quickly followed, settling into the passenger seat.

"Move to the back. The front seat is reserved for my girlfriend."

But Stella fastened her seatbelt instead.

"Beck, given how many girlfriends you've had, I'm sure plenty have sat here. Why fuss over it? If it bothers you that much, just pretend I'm your girlfriend for now."

Beck gripped the steering wheel, finding her utterly unreasonable.

He floored the gas pedal, unwilling to engage further.

After driving in silence for a while, he turned on the radio to break the quiet. Unexpectedly, Stella started humming along, and quite beautifully at that.NôvelDrama.Org owns all content.

Beck couldn't resist a jibe: "With such a nice voice, you could make a living singing instead of hanging off men for money."

Stella's face fell, and she stopped singing.

Beck, unable to stand her silence, began to wonder if he had been too harsh.

After a long pause, Stella spoke calmly: "I know you look down on someone like me."

For some reason, Beck felt a tightness in his chest.

"And what kind of person is that?"

"You've seen it, Beck. I'm always surrounded by men. You despise someone who relies on their looks, who schemes their way through life. But I'm actually grateful for the looks my mother gave me."

Otherwise, she would have starved. A girl who left the orphanage at ten, especially a pretty one, had to make herself look as unappealing as possible to survive in this world.

But how could someone like Beck, living in his ivory tower, understand that?

Hearing this, Beck frowned, "Are you going to cry now, wait for me to comfort you, then say it was all an act?"

She had already played that card once.

Stella's lips curled into a smile, "See, you're not falling for it anymore."

Beck, still holding the steering wheel, stayed silent.

After another half-hour drive, he finally asked, "Are you staying with Boris now?"

Boris was supposedly Stella and Morgan's father-a unreliable character who leveraged his tenuous Connection to the Sanders family to amass wealth, and hardly ever came home due to his

numerous affairs, leaving Morgan to follow in his footsteps.

"Yeah, if I stayed anywhere else, I wouldn't be able to sleep at night."

"And you can sleep there? Aren't you afraid of Boris and Morgan bringing women home? I hear it's a regular thing for them."

Stella quickly covered her ears, pretending to be shocked by the revelation.

"How could I possibly listen to such things? You rich folks sure know how to have fun."

"Heh, I think you're even better at playing the game than they are."

Like family, like daughter.