“Yes, of course, we’re different!” Stella’s voice trembled with frustration. “If there were a choice, what ordinary woman would willingly be a mistress, ruined by someone like you?”
Weston’s eyes darkened, his grip tightening on her. “I ruined you? Stella Sealey, go out and ask around. You’ll find out how many women would leap at the chance to be with me, all because of a snap of my fingers. Me? Ruin you?”
In a world where power and profit came before anything else, words like virtue or morality were foreign, especially in showbiz. Here, people with power often dabbled in affairs, and everything had its price.
“If you need money, it’s simple. Open your mouth, say a few kind words, and I’ll give you everything you want.” Weston’s tone grew colder, though a flicker of something else lingered in his eyes. “How much can filming really earn you? So what if you rake in millions at the box office? A few pitiful tears, a couple of sweet words, and I’ll hand you everything. Anything.”
Stella’s gaze hardened, cutting through his words. “What if I can’t make your heart ache for me?”
Her voice dropped to a soft, sorrowful calm. “Do you want me to make my entire life revolve around you? To live in fear of your moods? As long as you’re happy, things will go my way, but the moment you’re upset, I’ll lose everything. You’ll make me beg for a divorce, abandon me without a second thought… Do you want me to live my life like that—constantly at the mercy of your whims?”
Her voice grew even softer, eyes darkening with resignation. “You’re right. With a snap of your fingers, women will flock to you. I’m not good enough. I don’t deserve you. Go find someone who does. Someone worthy of you. Please, I beg you.”
For a moment, Weston’s eyes darkened further, staring at her with an unreadable expression. Then, without a word, he straightened, turning to the driver with a sharp command to start the car.
The driver, trembling with nervousness, obeyed without question, and soon they were on their way to Stardust Mansion. Stella remained silent, trying to calm the storm of emotions inside her. When they arrived, the cool night breeze hit her face, making her shiver, still wearing little more than her thin coat.
Weston’s gaze softened for just a moment, and before she could react, he was already walking toward her and lifting her into his arms, no words exchanged.
Stella had learned to accept these sudden shifts in his behavior, knowing that, for him, when he decided something, there was no room for protest.
She shut her eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling his chest muscles tighten beneath his shirt. Weston paused, surprised by her gesture, and his eyes softened slightly. “You were so stubborn just now… And now you’re being so compliant?”
Stella didn’t answer right away, her voice quiet and calm as she leaned into his embrace. “It’s late. Shall we just rest for the night?”
For a long moment, Weston didn’t reply. The only sound was the chill in the air that surrounded them. Then, he let out a soft chuckle, as though he’d known exactly what she was thinking. “Are you afraid I’ll do something to you?”
Stella said nothing, her head lowered, resigned to the tension in the room.
Without another word, Weston walked toward the couch, his steps deliberate, before tossing her onto it. Stella barely had time to sit up when he leaned over her, his body hovering close. He pinned her with his gaze, dark and intense.
“If I wanted to, right now, on this couch, what would you do?” His voice was low, dangerous, and full of intent.
Stella lifted her head in shock, meeting his gaze. The depth of emotion in his eyes stirred something inside her—something both terrifying and magnetic.
“Weston Ford…” She opened her mouth to say something, but before she could, he captured her lips in a kiss, silencing her words with overwhelming force.
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