Stella’s voice was soft, but it managed to draw the attention of everyone in the room. The secretary’s eyes widened in hope, desperation clear on her face as she whispered, “Thank you, thank you…”
Stella didn’t respond. Her mind was racing. She didn’t want to get involved, but something nagged at her. As she took a step towards the door, she had a realization.
Weston was doing this on purpose.
He wasn’t simply acting out of disregard—he was manipulating the situation. A man like him didn’t need to get his hands dirty. He didn’t have to say a word; just a look was enough to make people scramble to do his bidding.
The people in the room were not naive; they knew the ins and outs of power and influence. They wouldn’t have gone this far unless Weston had subtly encouraged it. Even if she left now, there would be more problems ahead.
The thought of dealing with more trouble made her feel weary.
The men in the room stared at her, their gazes unsettling. Weston’s eyes, however, were colder than the dim atmosphere surrounding them, and Stella could still feel the intensity of his gaze. He watched her like a predator watching its prey.
Then, he spoke, his voice low and commanding, “Say it louder.”
Stella took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her chest. She raised her voice, slightly shaking, “Can you let her go?”
Weston’s lips curled into a slight smirk. “Are you talking about her… or yourself?”
Stella met his gaze, her voice steady despite the tremor inside her. “Do I have a choice?”
Weston’s eyes softened with amusement. He took a slow puff from his cigarette, the smoke curling lazily around him. “You’re finally catching on,” he said with a teasing glint in his eyes. “What are you doing so far away from me?”
Stella clenched her fists and, without thinking, stepped forward. But Weston’s gaze didn’t leave her, a silent command for her to get closer.
“Still too far,” he murmured, his tone dismissive.
Stella hesitated, but she stepped even closer, until her shoes almost touched his expensive leather ones. She instinctively wanted to retreat, her discomfort clear. Weston, with all his wealth and status, had a way of making her feel out of place, as though she didn’t belong in his world. When they were still married, she had been eager to learn about his life, to care for his needs, to immerse herself in his world. But now, standing this close to him, she could only feel the divide.
She didn’t want to touch him. She never did.
Weston noticed the way she avoided him, his brows furrowing slightly. “Come over,” he said, his voice carrying a quiet authority. “Sit next to me.”
Stella gave a small, reluctant nod and sat down beside him, her body tense.
Though no one in the room dared to openly stare at them, all eyes were trained on the two of them, watching every move. As Weston’s mood visibly improved, the men seemed to lose interest in the secretary. They waved her off.
“Forget it,” one of them grumbled, “You’re getting boring.”
The secretary, still shaken, scrambled to her feet and bowed repeatedly. “Thank you, thank you, sirs. Thank you…” She glanced at Stella, her face now blank, unable to remember her name. She nodded curtly before hastily leaving the room. Once the door was closed behind her, she pulled out her phone, dialing a number.
“The one you sent over was a teacher who was here for an interview! What’s the matter? How did things go wrong?”
The voice on the other end was frantic, “I’m so sorry, I got mixed up! I was so busy today, and the private room was breathing down my neck. When the teacher arrived early for her interview, I saw how beautiful she was and assumed she was the woman meant for the private room…”
The secretary’s voice grew sharper with anger. “You really screwed this up!” she snapped.
The assistant on the other end stammered nervously, “Should I still have that woman come over?”
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