Weston’s body stiffened at the weak cry behind him, but he didn’t turn around immediately. On the far side of the rooftop, Guinevere was pressed against the railings by one of the kidnappers. Half of her body hung over the edge, and she looked at him with reddened eyes.
“I’m scared…” Her voice trembled as she hugged her stomach, her hair a tangled mess. She looked every bit the terrified woman, her usually composed face now etched with fear.
“Don’t come here! They’ll hurt you!” Stella’s words were unfazed by Guinevere’s dramatic display. In fact, Stella was almost impressed by the woman’s acting skills. If she hadn’t overheard Guinevere’s conversation with the kidnappers, she might have been deceived too.
Stella didn’t understand. She had never directly provoked Guinevere—everything had been because of Weston. He was the one who had asked for the marriage, who had ruthlessly brought up divorce, and who had pressured her to abort the baby. And yet, here was Guinevere, trying to take her life. Why? What did she want from her?
Stella was just a pawn in their twisted love game. Her heart ached, but she remained silent, her eyes locked on Weston. She saw him turn away from her without hesitation, walking toward Guinevere.
In that moment, Stella’s heart sank. It was clear to her now—Weston would always choose Guinevere. What had she been hoping for? She dug her nails deep into her palm, the sharp pain snapping her out of her daze. She closed her eyes, fighting to keep her composure, and with a hoarse voice, cried out, “Weston! She’s lying to you! These kidnappers are her people…”
Before she could say more, a rough hand covered her mouth. The kidnapper behind her snarled, “Shut up, b*tch!” His grip tightened, twisting her head to silence her completely.
Guinevere’s expression faltered when she heard Stella’s words, but she quickly regained her composure. With a confused look, she turned to Weston, her voice sweet and innocent, “What are you saying? I don’t even know these people…”
But as if to confirm Stella’s words, the kidnapper behind Stella grabbed Guinevere by the shirt collar, slamming her against the railings. The metal scratched against her skin, drawing blood.
“Tss…” Guinevere hissed but refused to scream. Instead, she gritted her teeth and stared at Weston with teary eyes, her voice trembling, “Weston…”
The kidnapper pulled out a knife and held it to her throat. “Don’t come any closer! Where’s the money I asked for?”
With cold precision, Weston stepped forward, tossing the suitcase onto the ground. He stomped on it, kicking it to roll towards the kidnappers. After a quick count, they gave each other a signal.
Weston twisted his wrist in frustration, his anger barely contained. “Let them go. Then take the money and get out of here!”
The kidnapper laughed cruelly. “Mr. Ford, you’re a smart man. You even brought a small army with you. If I were to actually give you both of these women back, do you think my brothers and I would make it out alive?”
His face twisted into something darker, something savage.
“Since you brought the money on time, you can take one of them back with you. The other one… well, we’ll send her back once we’re safe.”
Stella’s body stiffened. She struggled, her voice cracking with desperation, “Weston, don’t believe them!” She fought against the kidnapper’s hold, screaming, “Believe me, just this once! They’re really Guinevere’s people. She won’t let me live, trust me…”
Tears streamed down her face, her body shaking with the fear that was slowly consuming her. She had never felt so vulnerable, so powerless.
“I’m begging you… Please don’t push me toward death…” Her voice broke as she sobbed.
“Trust me, Weston!” She cried out again, her words a desperate plea. “I would never lie… You know that… I wouldn’t joke about something as serious as this…”
Weston’s eyes darkened, his emotions roiling beneath the surface. He clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth, but could only stare at her in silence, barely able to hold himself together.
“There’s not much time left, Mr. Ford. Who will you choose?” The kidnapper’s voice was insistent, like a ticking clock counting down.
“Three!”
“Two!”
“…”
Finally, Weston’s voice broke the tension, cold and final, “Give me Gwen.”
Stella’s heart dropped, her body frozen in place. The air seemed to thicken, a suffocating silence hanging between them. She slowly closed her eyes, her chest tight with unbearable pain.
She had said everything she could. There was nothing more to say.
Her heart felt numb, and the overwhelming agony of betrayal washed over her like a wave. The blood in her veins turned cold, and the sharp, unrelenting ache in her chest was almost too much to bear.
But before she could process the pain, Weston’s voice cut through the silence, low and bitter.
“I choose Gwen… She’s afraid of heights.”
Stella’s eyes snapped open, her breath caught in her throat. The words hung in the air, and for a moment, it was as if the world had frozen. The cold wind blew across the rooftop, but it didn’t matter—Stella’s heart felt like it had been shattered into a thousand pieces.
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