Stella’s steps faltered for a brief moment, fear gripping her chest. But it lasted only a second before she pushed forward, her body moving instinctively to escape. A sharp, stinging pain shot through the corner of her mouth, and she wiped it away forcefully, desperate to erase the memory of what had just happened.
All she could see in her mind was Weston’s wild, almost crazed behavior. She shut her eyes tightly, her heart trembling with an intensity that took her breath away.
A wave of disgust overwhelmed her, and she bent at the waist, gripping the wall next to her as nausea hit. Her knees buckled, and she had to lean against the cold wall to keep herself from collapsing.
After a moment, she managed to steady herself, worried that the people from the private room might be chasing her. Looking up, she was startled to find someone standing before her. She took an instinctive step back, her shock evident.
“You…” she started, but her voice faltered.
“Are you alright?” Justin’s voice was laced with concern, and when he saw her pale face, his chest tightened with worry. “What happened?”
Stella snapped out of her daze. The sight of Justin standing before her brought a sense of relief, as if his presence provided a safety net in the chaotic storm of emotions she had just endured. “Mr. Hall…” she began, trying to compose herself. “It’s nothing. What are you doing here?”
Her voice was hurried as she glanced at him. “I’m sorry, Mr. Hall. I have to go. Something urgent came up.” Without waiting for a response, she quickly turned and ran off, not hearing Justin’s attempts to speak.
Justin stood still for a moment, watching her retreating form with narrowed eyes. A flicker of uncertainty passed through him, but without a word, he followed after her.
Stella didn’t stop running until she reached the streets. Only then did she allow herself to pause, catching her breath and ensuring no one had followed her. As she did, she realized that Justin had been right behind her the whole time.
“Mr. Hall,” she asked, still breathless, “What’s the matter?”
Justin shrugged, his voice teasing but with a note of concern, “Why did you run when you saw me? What were you doing at a place like that?”
Stella hesitated for a moment before answering honestly, “I was supposed to be there for an interview as a home tutor, but the assistant gave me the wrong address.”
Justin nodded, though he already knew about the mix-up. He feigned surprise, raising his brows. “What about your interview?”
Stella smiled bitterly, shaking her head. “I suppose it’s all over now. Forget it.”
They walked together in silence for a few moments before Justin spoke again, his voice soft with genuine concern. “If you ever need help, just let me know.”
Stella glanced at him, an odd feeling bubbling up within her. She had always viewed Justin with polite distance, but something about him felt different tonight. The night air seemed to intensify his presence, making her feel strangely aware of him.
“I…” she began, tightening her grip on her bag’s strap and stepping back instinctively. A warmth spread through her, one that felt foreign and disorienting. She shook her head, trying to clear the sensation.
Justin noticed her sudden unease. His brow furrowed in concern. “Is something wrong?”
Stella’s breathing became heavier, her heart racing as a strange sense of alertness surged through her. “I don’t know…” she murmured, as her body seemed to react on its own.
Before she could take another step, Justin’s hand gently grabbed her arm, pulling her back toward him. His gaze dropped to her face, studying her intently. “Are you alright?” he asked, his tone deeper now, his concern growing stronger.
He hesitated for a moment before continuing, “You mentioned the wrong address. Did you possibly drink or touch something that could have been spiked?”
Stella shook her head rapidly, her mind racing. “No… I didn’t drink or eat anything…”
But as Justin’s suspicion started to dawn on her, a dark thought crossed Stella’s mind. In a place like that, anything could have happened. Anything.
Her eyes closed as a flood of memories surged through her mind—scenes of what had happened in the private room, the forceful kiss, the disgust that had overwhelmed her. Weston’s actions were cruel, the principle of survival of the fittest unfolding in front of her. She had been nothing more than an object, something to be used, discarded when no longer needed. And through it all, she had been powerless.
Her stomach churned as she recalled the nightmarish reality she had just escaped. The feeling of helplessness clung to her, suffocating her with its intensity.
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