As soon as Stella pressed the elevator button, a tall figure emerged from the shadows beside her.
Startled, she looked up—and her eyes locked with a pair of cold, deep-set ones.
Before she could react, Weston grabbed her wrist and pulled her swiftly into a side hallway. Without a word, he pushed the door to the emergency stairwell open and dragged her inside.
It was dark, silent, and unsettling. The air was thick with tension.
“Weston, what are you doing?” Her voice rang sharply in the empty stairwell.
He didn’t answer. His grip was firm but not painful—yet it left her feeling powerless. His eyes flickered with something unreadable, a storm brewing just beneath the surface.
She pushed against him, trying to break free. “Let go of me!”
“You think I didn’t see you?” he asked, his voice low. “Smiling in that man’s car like you’ve moved on.”
His tone cut through the darkness like a knife.
“This is crazy,” she hissed. “We’re over, Weston. We’ve been divorced for a long time. I have the right to live my life.”
“You called me,” he said, as if accusing her. “Was it to provoke me? Show me how happy you are now?”
“I wasn’t provoking you. I’ve made it clear—there’s nothing left between us.”
He stepped closer, eyes shadowed, voice quieter but colder. “Is that so? You’re really going to start over… just like that?”
Stella backed away slightly, her voice trembling but resolute. “Yes. I’ve had enough. I’m done being trapped by the past.”
His expression shifted. “I gave you space. I told you to reconsider, because I didn’t want to push you. But now this?”
He reached out suddenly—not with force, but to brush a tear from her cheek. She flinched.
“I won’t let you go so easily,” he said quietly.
Stella took a deep breath, steadying herself. “You don’t get to make that decision anymore.”
Weston’s eyes darkened, but he said nothing more. The silence between them grew heavy, echoing through the stairwell.
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