“You could have rejected her invitation,” Weston’s voice was steady, but there was an edge to it.
Stella snorted, her gaze unwavering as she met his eyes. “Even if I had, she would’ve found another way to get to me. Mr. Ford, you’re very similar to her. You should know how people like you and Ms. Cohen behave. Even though I refused to meet with you, here I am in your car, against my will.”
The truth of her words hung in the air. Free will—was it really ever a choice when there was such a vast difference in their power and status? She had learned that the hard way. And now, even though her heart was broken, she couldn’t deny the painful clarity that had come with it.
The car came to a stop in an empty suburban neighborhood. It was eerily quiet, no cars in sight, no movement. Just silence.
Weston flicked the ashes of his cigarette, the smoke curling around his fingers, his side profile shadowed and mysterious in the dim light.
Stella waited, but he didn’t speak. The silence stretched on, suffocating. Finally, she unbuckled her seatbelt, her patience wearing thin.
“What exactly do you want, Mr. Ford?” she asked, her tone cold.
His eyes turned to her, and with chilling precision, he said, “Keep away from Gwen.”
The words sliced through her heart, but the pain wasn’t the searing agony it used to be. It had dulled, the jagged edges of her emotions now worn from too many cuts.
Stella remained quiet for a moment, collecting herself. When she spoke, her voice was steady. “You should tell her that. Or rather, tell yourself. Either way, stay away from me. Both of you.”
Weston crushed out his cigarette and folded his arm back into the car, his gaze steady as it locked with hers. “Your face makes her suspicious. If you don’t want your new life to be interrupted, keep your distance from her.”
Stella pursed her lips, considering his words. “In that case, why didn’t you send Roger and me to a more secluded city? Or even another country? Why settle us in Freemont City? You should’ve anticipated something like this happening.”
There was no response. Silence hung between them, thick and oppressive.
Weston stared at the cigarette he’d put out, his expression unreadable. A storm brewed behind his eyes, but it was impossible to tell what he was thinking.
Ben had asked him the same question. “Mr. Ford, isn’t Freemont City too risky? Although it allows us to keep an eye on Ms. Sealey and her brother, it also increases the chances of someone else discovering them.”
Weston didn’t have an answer then. And now, as he reflected, all he knew was that he had to keep Stella close. Right under his nose.
It had all started as an accident at the Quirk residence. Weston had known Stella had no intention of getting in their way, that her appearance was unintentional.
He should have dealt with it quickly, minimizing the impact on Guinevere. That would have been the rational approach. But instead, driven by something he couldn’t explain, he had done the most ridiculous thing: offering to take Stella home.
Even Yvonne had sensed something off about it. And Guinevere? She had undoubtedly noticed it too.
Frustration built within him as he remembered his own loss of control. He steadied himself, then spoke, his voice turning cold as ice. “If that’s what you want, I’ll send you and Roger out of the country.”
Stella’s eyes widened in disbelief. “What do you take us for? Sending us off wherever you please?” She yanked the door open, her anger flaring. “We have no relationship anymore, Weston Ford. The moment you made that decision, you lost the right to interfere in my life.”
She could feel the weight of her words, and for the first time, she truly believed them. She had been given a new identity—Ella Steele. She was no longer Stella Sealey. Ella had no ties to the past, no connection to the life that had been torn apart.
“Stella Sealey!” Weston’s voice cracked with a subtle emotion, a trace of something he wasn’t willing to show. “Sit down.”
His tone was as cold and commanding as ever, as if the world should bend to his will.
Stella’s teeth clenched. With a burst of defiance, she slammed the door shut and turned on her heel, determined to walk away from him, from everything he represented. She didn’t need to be reminded of who she used to be, and she certainly didn’t need him in her life anymore.
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