The air around the table grew thick with tension once again.
Stella paused for a brief moment before standing up abruptly. Covering her mouth, she hurriedly rushed out of the room, leaving the others behind.
Weston’s gaze flickered when she stood, but he quickly regained his composure. His eyes darkened, and a colder, more ominous aura seemed to settle over him. It was difficult to tell what thoughts were running through his mind at that moment, but the shift in his demeanor was palpable.
Guinevere’s earlier assurance from Weston’s protective presence evaporated, and her appetite completely disappeared. She yanked her napkin off her lap and stood up, her face no longer showing the warmth it had before.
“I’m full. I’m going to the washroom,” she announced coolly.
As she stood, the screeching sound of her chair scraping against the floorboards filled the room. Weston’s expression darkened even further, his eyes flashing with a cold glint. This time, Yvonne wasn’t as oblivious as before. She froze, her fork hanging mid-air, unsure of what was happening.
“Why do things feel so strange between these people?” Yvonne muttered under her breath, sensing the tension but unsure of the reasons behind it.
Lucas remained composed, only briefly glancing at Stella as she rushed out. He gently took hold of Yvonne’s wrist, guiding the fork with food into her mouth. “Focus while eating,” he instructed in his usual indifferent tone.
Yvonne, ever the one to seek out drama, was frustrated by the situation. But Lucas wasn’t bothered. He had learned to let her be when she wanted to stir things up. For him, the only real concern was making sure she ate well.
In the washroom, Stella felt a bit better after vomiting. She had initially planned to head back, but her thoughts caught up with her. She recalled how she had behaved earlier, and her steps slowed. The weight of her emotions seemed to hang in the air, leaving her feeling heavy.
As she walked down the corridor, her eyes caught sight of Guinevere approaching from the other end. The sound of her high heels clicking echoed through the hallway, and her elegant figure moved with the grace of a model. Stella’s eyes lowered, her instinct to avoid confrontation taking over. She glanced at Guinevere for a brief second before turning her gaze away, planning to walk past her without engaging.
Stella knew she couldn’t afford to stay longer than necessary. Her anger simmered just beneath the surface, and if she lingered, she feared she might lose control.
If it weren’t for Guinevere, her child would still be with her. The thought twisted her insides with fury, but she had to remind herself—she was now Ella, not Stella. With her new identity and limited means, she had no power to stand up against them. Confronting them now would only leave her at their mercy. The only way she would truly settle the score would be when the day came that she could rise above them, victorious.
This wasn’t the time for that, she told herself.
Stella took a deep breath and tried to walk past Guinevere without incident. But Guinevere wasn’t going to let her go so easily.
With a laugh, Guinevere reached out and grabbed Stella’s arm. “Why are you hiding from me?”
Stella’s brows furrowed as she turned slightly toward her. “I’m not.”
Guinevere smirked. “Then why are you walking around me?”
Stella couldn’t help but find the question ridiculous. “This is a single path, and I’m just passing by. Besides, I don’t even know you, and I’ve never offended you. So why would I hide from you?”
Stella’s tone was calm and almost innocent, her smile genuine as she countered Guinevere’s accusation. It was as if she truly didn’t understand the underlying tension.
In the past, whenever Stella had crossed paths with Guinevere, she had cowered, her demeanor humble and submissive, almost as if she feared Guinevere’s presence. That weakness had emboldened Guinevere every time they came face to face. But now, standing before her, Stella—no, Ella—wasn’t the same. The unflinching way she countered Guinevere’s question unsettled her.
Guinevere, for the first time, felt uncomfortable, her arrogance and disdain clashing with the resistance before her. It was as if the woman she had always looked down upon had suddenly grown a backbone, showing a side that Guinevere wasn’t prepared for. Her frustration boiled over, and she couldn’t hold it in anymore.
“Ella,” Guinevere said, her voice laced with venom. “Your name is Ella, right?”
Skip to content