Stella’s anger had little to do with the man who had been playing the piano with her. What truly enraged her was the overwhelming lack of freedom in her life. Weston’s constant manipulation and threats were suffocating her, and that was the root of her frustration.
Weston knew this all too well, but it didn’t stop him from feeling possessive. He couldn’t bear the thought of her showing even the smallest interest in another man. “You have ten minutes to make me change my mind. If you succeed, I won’t cause trouble for him.”
Stella’s eyes flashed with frustration. “Do you think I care about some stranger? I’ve already told you—there’s nothing between us. We met by chance, played a song together, and that’s all.”
“Really?” Weston’s voice was tinged with doubt. “But the way you reacted doesn’t seem like you don’t care.”
“That’s because he’s innocent!” Stella’s voice shook with a mixture of anger and desperation. “I don’t want him involved in our problems, do you understand? I don’t want anyone else getting hurt because of this.”
Weston’s expression hardened. “Then you should’ve listened to me and stayed away from places like that.”
“Places like what?” Stella’s voice was quiet, but a tension rippled through her words.
“Places I forbid you to go,” he replied firmly, his tone final.
Stella sucked in a deep breath, her lips pressing together tightly. She turned her face away, feeling the sting of the situation. Her eyes fluttered shut, her lashes trembling as the weight of the moment pressed down on her. She didn’t respond immediately. She couldn’t.
Weston’s eyes flicked over her, cold and unrelenting. “You still have seven minutes.”
Her heart sank. Desperation clawed at her chest, but there was no room for defiance. Slowly, her shoulders slumped, and her voice softened. “Please… don’t involve an innocent man in this.”
She’d said “please”—a word she never thought would escape her lips, especially for someone else.
Weston’s brows furrowed slightly, the tension in his face deepening. He didn’t like the fact that she was pleading for another man’s mercy, but seeing her comply with his demands gave him some satisfaction. He released her, his grip loosening.
“Fine. But don’t ever test my patience again,” he said, his tone still stern, though there was a flicker of something else beneath it. Gently, he caressed her hair, his touch light but possessive.
Stella felt a cold shiver run down her spine at the tenderness of his touch, but it wasn’t comfort—it was control. She nodded, her gaze distant. “I understand.”
Satisfied with her response, Weston stepped back, releasing her from his hold. His gaze softened, but there was an underlying possessiveness that didn’t disappear. “It’s late. Are you hungry?” he asked, his voice more neutral now.
Stella’s response was robotic, her eyes glazed over as she nodded in agreement. “I’m not sure.”
Weston pressed on, a hint of impatience creeping into his tone. “What do you want to eat?”
“I don’t know,” she replied dully, her voice barely a whisper.
He took her by the arm and guided her to the couch, his movements purposeful. “I asked them to prepare something you might like. You should eat more,” he insisted, his voice softening, though there was a touch of command in it. As he spoke, he pinched her cheek lightly, a gesture that felt far too intimate considering the circumstances.
Looking at her, Weston noticed the changes in her appearance—how she had once been fuller, in all the right places, and how now she was uncomfortably thin. A pang of sadness tugged at him. She no longer looked like the woman he remembered.
Stella’s fists clenched briefly, her face tightening in a fleeting moment of discomfort, but she said nothing. She simply nodded, submitting to his will. The subtle shift in her expression didn’t go unnoticed. Weston recognized it—the quiet rebellion, the subtle plea for space—but he wasn’t deterred. He believed that, with time, she would stop resisting and accept him fully.
After a long silence, he pulled out his phone and placed a call, barking out orders to someone on the other end.
A short while later, the doorbell rang.
Weston rose and moved toward the door, opening it to reveal a couple of staff members holding trays of food. They stepped in, setting the dishes down with precision, and Stella didn’t even look up as they placed the meal in front of her.
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