In the end, Justin didn’t utter a single word and simply left.
What could he have said, really?
Before all this, he had sworn that he would stop Weston from doing anything to harm her, but look where they were now.
In the first half of his life, Justin had always been a man of integrity. As a university professor, he valued honesty above all else and had never resorted to underhanded tactics. Many of his students had become influential figures—renowned scientists, respected academics, and some even holding positions of power.
He had enjoyed a successful first half of his life, by all accounts. But now, all he could feel was his own impotence.
Inside the room, the oppressive mood had finally lifted.
Weston switched on the lights and tapped his fingers rhythmically on the table. “He left a long time ago. What exactly are you staring at?”
Stella, sitting silently beside him, shifted her gaze away without saying a word. This was exactly what Weston had wanted from her all along. Yet now that he had finally gotten it, he felt something was missing.
He reached out, grabbing her chin and turning her face from side to side. She had a lovely face, delicate skin, and features that were striking when taken together. Although she didn’t wear much makeup, her natural beauty was undeniable. He’d seen her made-up before, and she had been beautiful then too.
For men like Weston, surrounded by beautiful women, a pretty face was never in short supply. He could have any number of gorgeous women at his side. Some men were drawn to kind and lively women, others to more refined and elegant ones, some to the gentle and quiet type, and then there were those who preferred the cute and plump.
Beauty, after all, manifested itself in many forms.
But after mingling in those circles for so long, Weston had grown weary of those beauties. He wasn’t captivated by pretty faces anymore. If he had wanted one, he could have easily gotten one. So, what was it about Stella that intrigued him?
Stella, feeling his gaze on her, lifted her head to meet his eyes. She could see that his expression had softened, no longer the harsh demeanor he had earlier. Instead, he seemed to be appraising her, as though contemplating something.
But Stella didn’t care to know what he was thinking.
Her mood was heavy, drained from the events that had unfolded. She knew she had no choice but to comply with whatever he demanded. Resistance was futile.
Weston, his grip tightening on her arm, spoke again, his voice laced with a hint of irritation. “Why do you look like you’re dying now that he’s gone?” His words were sharp as he remembered how she had been smiling and laughing with Justin and Bryce earlier, yet now she was distant and cold with him.
Stella was forced to look up at him. Their gazes locked for a moment, and she managed a forced smile.
Weston’s expression darkened. “Your smile is even worse than your crying,” he muttered coldly, before releasing her and standing up. “Let’s go.”
“Go where?” she asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty.
Weston paused and turned back to face her, his gaze unwavering. “Home.”
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