Mr. Ford Is Jealous201-300

Novel Catalog

Chapter 262
Stella was overcome by a violent coughing fit, her body trembling uncontrollably as she collapsed onto Weston’s knee. Her chest heaved as she fought to expel the water from her lungs. It felt like an eternity before the last of it was finally gone. Dazed, she opened her eyes and found Weston’s concerned face before her. Her hair clung to her wet skin, tangled and heavy.
When he saw that she was slowly regaining her composure, he exhaled a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “Thank God you’re fine.”
Confusion clouded her thoughts as she glanced around the bathroom, still trying to piece together what had happened. “What happened?” she asked softly, her gaze shifting downward as she suddenly realized her state.
Her eyes widened in horror. Without thinking, she wrapped her arms around herself, instinctively trying to shield her body from his gaze.
“Are you stupid?” Weston’s voice was low but sharp. “How could you drown while you’re showering?”
Her mind raced, and the fog in her brain began to clear. She remembered wanting to shower, but exhaustion had overtaken her, causing her to fall asleep in the bathtub. She didn’t know how long she had slept, but her body had relaxed, slipping beneath the water. If it weren’t for Weston’s timely intervention, she might have drowned.
The realization sent a shiver of fear through her, but alongside it was an odd sense of relief. In a twisted way, the thought of escaping all the pain and misery had felt like a final escape. But before she could dwell on it too much, Weston’s grip tightened on her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze.
“Don’t even think about it,” he warned, his voice rough with tension. “If you die, I won’t let Roger live peacefully either.”
Her eyes snapped open in shock. “Weston!” she gasped, a mix of anger and disbelief flooding her.
Despite knowing that she would be furious, Weston continued. “Don’t try to leave me like that. If you die, I’ll make sure Roger’s life becomes hell. No matter where you are, I will find you.”
The image of Stella falling from the rooftop, an incident that haunted him deeply, flashed in his mind. It was a nightmare he could never forget — one he would do anything to avoid repeating.
Stella glared at him, hatred burning in her eyes. “If you dare harm Roger, my ghost will haunt you forever.”
Weston sneered, unfazed. “I was afraid you’d try to leave me like that.”
“You…” She had no words, the situation far too overwhelming.
She stood up from the bathtub, shivering from the cold water clinging to her body. Weston’s gaze darkened as he took in her soaked form. He bit back his desires, his control fraying, but he knew better than to act on impulse.
He wrapped her in a bathrobe, his touch gentle but firm, then scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. As he placed her down, Stella instinctively pulled the covers up, curling into herself, refusing to engage with him.
Weston’s face hardened as he stared at her, silent for a moment. His patience, though considerable, was not without limits. Without another word, he glared at her once more, retrieved a hair dryer from the nightstand, and lifted the quilt. “Come out,” he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Stella didn’t move, keeping her back to him, her silence a clear rejection.
Weston’s patience snapped. He didn’t wait any longer. He pulled her out of the blanket and into his arms, his movements firm and determined as he began to dry her hair. His hands were rough as he worked, tugging at the wet strands, and although the pressure on her scalp made her wince, she remained silent, refusing to let a single sound escape her lips.
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