Justin knew he had no chance against Weston. It had always been clear to him that the powerful ruled the world, but he still believed that justice and fairness had a place. Despite this, the difference between Weston and him was overwhelming. Weston didn’t need his power or money to defeat him; he had beaten Justin at his own game, and that was something Justin couldn’t ignore. He felt thoroughly humiliated. All he could think about now was making sure Stella didn’t leave with Weston.
Before Justin could formulate a plan, the sleek black Cullinan sped past him, its headlights flashing. Almost instinctively, he shouted, “Ella, don’t go with him!”
Weston, however, slowed the car down deliberately, taking pleasure in Justin’s misery. He found it boring—so easy, in fact, that it didn’t bring him any satisfaction. What truly piqued his interest was the woman sitting beside him. Stella’s eyes were lowered, her gaze on Justin, who was filled with resentment. She understood that he wanted to help her, but that was exactly why she couldn’t allow him to get involved. She couldn’t drag him into this mess. Weston was a man without morals, a man who would stop at nothing to claim what he wanted.
“Justin, don’t get involved in my affairs ever again…” Stella’s voice was firm, yet distant. “Please, keep your distance from now on. Your involvement only complicates things, and it bothers me.”
Justin’s expression changed instantly. He seemed utterly defeated, a wave of helplessness washing over him. “Did he tell you to say that?”
Stella shook her head, her tone resolute. “These are my words, Justin. There’s no need for you to worry about me.”
“Ella!” The desperation in his voice was palpable, but Stella chose not to say anything more. She knew he understood what she meant.
Weston, without even sparing Justin a glance, wound up the car window and drove off. Justin cursed under his breath, a surge of fury rising within him. His heart burned with anger as he watched the car disappear into the night.
Moments later, the sound of police sirens and emergency vehicles filled the air. The fire truck and ambulance quickly arrived at the scene, and rescue operations began. But through it all, Justin remained silent. His anger had turned to numbness, and as the adrenaline wore off, a deep emptiness settled in.
Meanwhile, Weston drove Stella to his apartment. As they pulled into the building’s lobby, Stella’s tense expression didn’t go unnoticed. Weston found it mildly amusing. He reached over and patted her head. “Relax. I’m not going to eat you.”
Stella stiffened at his touch, a pale expression crossing her face. Weston’s smile quickly faded, replaced by an icy glare. “Go up,” he ordered, his voice cold and final.
Stella reluctantly stepped out of the car, her movements stiff as she followed him into the elevator. It felt as though the door had closed behind her with the finality of a prison gate locking shut. She had done nothing wrong, yet here she was, trapped by circumstances beyond her control.
Inside his apartment, Weston removed his black trench coat and tossed it aside. He turned to her with a casual smile. “There’s no need to look so depressed.”
But his words only felt hollow, and Stella’s unease grew. “I won’t do anything to you,” Weston added, though the insincerity in his voice was clear. “We’re adults. If you want something, just be direct about it.”
Stella’s heart sank at his words, but she forced herself to hold on. “When you’re done, let me go back. Don’t ever appear in front of me again.”
The exhaustion in her voice was unmistakable, as though she had already resigned herself to this fate.
Skip to content