Belated Moonlight: He Regretted Only After I Left-Chapter 165: Helping You Win Her Over (Bonus Update)

Chapter 165: Chapter 165: Helping You Win Her Over (Bonus Update)

Rhys Lennox’s thoughts drifted away, involuntarily recalling the confrontation in the tearoom earlier...

"You’re here? My good nephew..."

Rhys slammed the door shut behind him with a backhand, sealing off the false tranquility outside.

He walked to the tea table, braced his hands on it, leaned forward with eyes swirling with undisguised murderous intent: "Where did the photos come from?"

Philip Donovan chuckled lowly, his laughter like an old, wheezing bellows: "What? Scared? Scared that your little dirty secret will be found out by your big brother? Scared that Stella will see those eyes of yours... that hide filthy things?"

Rhys clenched his fist abruptly, the knuckles cracking with a soft snap, the veins on the back of his hand bulging.

He almost spat out the words through gritted teeth: "Cut the crap! What do you want?"

"What do I want?" Philip repeated, his gaze slithering over Rhys’s face like a snake, "Rhys, your uncle watched you grow up. You might hide your feelings from Shane, might hide them from the old man, but not from me." 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞

He paused, his tone carrying a mocking omniscience, "You like Stella, don’t you?"

"Bullshit!" Rhys denied harshly without thinking, his voice trembling slightly with agitation, tinged with the embarrassment and fury of having his secret exposed, "Stop talking nonsense!"

"Won’t admit it?" Philip wasn’t angry, rather he leisurely picked up the cold tea before him, took a sip with a demeanor of total control, "It doesn’t matter. Whether you admit it or not, it doesn’t change the facts."

He set down the teacup, his gaze turned out the window, his tone laced with a bewitching sigh: "I’m sorry for you, Rhys... Are you really content? To watch her by Shane’s side, to watch him hold her, kiss her, and while she smiles at you, you can only call her ’sister-in-law’?"

Each word pierced Rhys’s eardrum like a heated steel needle, stabbing into his most vulnerable weakness.

His heart felt like it was being brutally gripped by an unseen hand, causing his breath to hitch in pain.

Philip observed his reaction thoroughly, a twisted smirk playing at his lips, his voice lowered with a sinister undertone, "Can you bear it? The unbridgeable chasm between you two? Watching her have children for another man and you... having no possibility left?"

"Shut up!" Rhys abruptly straightened, his chest heaving violently, the red in his eyes nearly spilling over.

He glared at Philip as if he wanted to tear him apart.

Yet Philip seemed oblivious to Rhys’s fury and continued speaking to himself, his tone oozing a mad temptation: "Rhys, cooperate with your uncle. I can help you... get her."

Rhys’s pupils constricted suddenly.

Get her?

Those three words, like a magical incantation, instantly stirred a storm in his chaotic mind.

The debased, frenzied thoughts he had been suppressing erupted like caged beasts, roaring and battering his sanity.

Looking at Philip’s face distorted with hatred and ambition, Rhys felt a violent churn in his stomach.

"No need for your trouble, Uncle!"

He turned abruptly, unwilling to hear these nauseating remarks anymore, striding toward the door.

Behind him, Philip’s confident voice, tinged with an eerie smile, carried through: "You’ll come back to find me, Rhys. When you can’t stand it anymore... when you truly wish to obtain her... I’ll be waiting for you."

...

"Cough... cough cough..."

The cold night wind choked his throat, pulling Rhys’s drifting thoughts back.

He burst into a violent fit of coughing, tears squeezing from the corners of his eyes.

The cigarette between his fingers had burned out, the scorching touch made him press the butt hard against the cold stone railing beside him with a soft hiss.

Four or five cigarette butts were scattered at his feet.

He raked his neat black hair irritably, attempting to drive Philip’s venomous words and that damn photograph out of his mind.

But that image, that voice, stuck like a bone in his throat, impossible to shake off.

"Rhys Lennox?"

Just then, a clear, soft female voice sounded from behind him.

Rhys’s body stiffened imperceptibly, but he did not turn around.

Stella Sterling walked around the pillars to stand beside him, immediately smelling the heavy scent of tobacco; under the dim corridor light, she saw the scattered cigarette butts on the ground.

She furrowed her brows slightly: "Why are you smoking so much? Is something bothering you?"

Rhys turned his head slightly, in the night, his profile was sharp, eyes as deep and dark as impenetrable ink.

He looked at her but said nothing.

Stella couldn’t help but press her lips together, recalling Claire blushing while asking her to come find Rhys, and she chose her words carefully, "Um, what do you think of Miss Grant?"

Rhys’s fingers curled slightly.

Still not turning around, his adam’s apple moved, and he forced out a vague syllable from his nose: "Hm?"

"I mean... Claire." Stella thought he didn’t hear clearly and added, her tone carrying a tint of unnoticeable probing, "She’s pretty, has a nice personality, and her knowledge and conversation are impeccable. The key is, she gets along quite well with us. Grandfather and Elder Grant... seem to approve of you two."

"Finished?" Rhys suddenly interrupted her, his voice hoarse with a hint of subtle sarcasm.

Stella was taken aback: "Huh?"

Rhys turned his head, looking directly at her; under the corridor lights, shadows cast deep into his eyes, making his emotions unreadable.

He tugged at the corner of his mouth, with an arc that was slightly cynical and something else: "So much beating around the bush was to tie a red thread for me?"

Stella didn’t expect him to ask so directly, her cheeks warmed slightly with embarrassment, yet she acknowledged it candidly: "So what if it is? Miss Grant is excellent in every aspect, and both Grandfather and Elder Grant have this idea. I think... you could try getting to know her."

The more she spoke, the more reasonable it seemed to her, trying to assume the stance of a sister-in-law, advising sincerely: "Rhys, you should settle down. A girl like Claire, it would be a pity to miss out. She just returned to the country and is unfamiliar with the environment here; you should take her out more, let her get to know the place..."

"Enough."

Rhys abruptly spoke, cutting her off.

He watched her red lips move as she said all those words "for his own good," each word feeling like a dull knife slicing across his heart.

She was pushing him away.

Personally pushing him toward another woman.

Philip’s venomous words echoed in his ears once more—

"Are you really content?"

"Seeing her always in the role of ’your sister-in-law’..."

"Can you bear it?"

A mixture of anger and unwillingness, like molten lava, exploded violently in his chest, almost splitting him apart!

He clutched his fists tightly, his nails digging into his palms, barely maintaining a surface calm.

He looked at her, for a long time, long enough for Stella to feel uneasy, unconsciously stepping back half a pace.

Then, he let out a very light laugh.

"My affair," he stared into her eyes, enunciating each word, his voice fiercely hoarse, "is none of your business."

Each of the last words he spoke heavily, as if using all his strength.

Finished, he no longer looked at her startled face, turned abruptly, and strode away in the opposite direction of the house, his silhouette resolute, quickly merging into the thick night, vanishing.

Stella watched the direction he disappeared in, blinked blankly—

Had she... said something wrong?