Stella lay still, listening to the sound of water running from the bathroom. Not long after, the noise faded, signaling that Weston had finished his shower. She could hear his heavy footsteps as he walked toward her, the mattress dipping slightly as he sat on the bed.
Before she could react, a wet, warm body pressed against hers from behind.
Instantly, she froze, her breath catching in her throat. She dared not move.
Weston, sensing her tension, softly rubbed her hair and kissed the top of her head. “Go to sleep. I won’t do anything to you,” he murmured.
The image from earlier—her lying unconscious in the tub—still lingered in his mind. For a moment, he had feared she had tried to end it all. The thought of losing her was unbearable. But thankfully, it had only been an accident. Weston, normally composed, found himself unable to quell the rush of emotions when he held her. The frantic beating of his heart slowly quieted, the only comfort in his chaos being her presence.
He held her tighter, a force so intense that it felt suffocating, but he didn’t seem to notice. It wasn’t until her breath grew shallow, struggling for air, that he loosened his grip slightly. He ran his hand through her hair and whispered, “I know what you’re thinking.” His voice was hoarse, barely audible. “I can forgive your little tricks, as long as you stay with me.”
Suddenly, a cold shiver ran down Stella’s spine. She didn’t fully understand what he meant by “tricks.” Her hand clenched tightly around his bathrobe, her fingers trembling with the weight of unspoken words.
She wanted to ask, but it didn’t seem like he needed an answer. After speaking, he gently patted her back, almost affectionately, and murmured, “Go to sleep.”
The warmth of his embrace, mixed with his strange words, lulled Stella into a state of uneasy slumber, her eyes slowly closing as exhaustion took over.
The Next Day
Stella woke up to an empty bed. Weston was already up and about, as he always was. His punctuality and disciplined routine left little room for deviation. He was the kind of person who planned every moment, like a well-oiled machine that never faltered.
By the time Stella woke, Weston was already preparing to leave for work. She stood on the second-floor balcony, watching as his sleek black car pulled out of the garage. She didn’t turn away until the car disappeared from sight, the sound of the engine fading into the distance.
She had told Roger that she was away on a business trip, but she had also promised Weston she would be staying with Roger. In a moment of silence, she took out the name card she had hidden away and dialed Bradley’s number. It rang several times before he picked up, sounding irritated.
“Who is this?” he asked curtly.
“It’s Ella,” she replied, her voice steady. “Do you remember me? I auditioned for the junior sister role when Ruby brought me in.”
There was a long pause on the other end of the line, so long that Stella began to wonder if he had forgotten her entirely. But then he spoke again.
“I remember. What’s up?”
“Have you found an actress for the role yet? I’m interested. Would it be possible for me to try again?”
Bradley was on set, and there was a brief silence before he responded, his voice less harsh. “Sure. Do you have time now?”
Stella’s pulse quickened. “I do.”
“There’s one scene you can try. I’ll send you the address,” Bradley said.
After hanging up, Stella informed Joan before hurrying out. She didn’t have much time to waste, and she knew this could be her only shot.
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