Stella’s grip on the door frame tightened as she shook her head slowly. “I didn’t hear anything at all.”
There was a certainty in her that Weston couldn’t ignore, but a nagging thought lingered. Someone knew Weston’s secrets, and that someone was his father. Whatever truth lay between them, it was something that left them both helpless.
But Weston couldn’t bring himself to believe her.
He wondered if she had overheard everything but was simply pretending not to know, not wanting to cause trouble. Even if she had heard every word, he knew she would never get the full picture of the truth.
Without another thought, Weston moved toward her, his actions swift as he scooped her up in his arms. A startled scream escaped her when she felt her feet leave the ground, and her hands instinctively wrapped around his arm. “What do you want to do?” she asked, panic rising in her voice.
“You look bored,” he said nonchalantly, “so why don’t we do something fun?”
Stella had no idea what he meant by “fun,” but her instincts screamed that it wasn’t something she wanted to be a part of.
When she saw him walking toward the bedroom, anxiety surged within her. “You promised me before that you wouldn’t force me on this,” she protested. “What are you doing?”
Weston ignored her words, his steps unwavering. He continued toward the bedroom, but as they neared the door, he suddenly halted. His eyes met hers with a teasing smile, as if enjoying the confusion he was causing her.
Before she could make sense of his intentions, he spun on his heel and started walking in the opposite direction—toward the kitchen. Stella was momentarily taken aback, her frustration rising. “Do you think this is funny?” she snapped.
He didn’t answer, continuing to carry her to the next room—his study.
Stella’s heart sank as she realized what he was doing. This room had always been off-limits to her. If there wasn’t an important reason, she never dared to enter. It was where Weston did all his work, and she respected that, even fearing she might accidentally disturb something or lose an important document.
But now, the situation was different.
He had carried her into his domain, a place that had once been out of bounds. The room, painted in cold shades of black and white, was eerily silent. It was a place that seemed devoid of warmth, much like his feelings toward her, she thought bitterly.
Several books were scattered across the large desk, and his computer sat in the center. Without a word, Weston gently placed her on the leather couch next to the table. She immediately curled into herself, her confusion evident as she looked up at him.
Weston’s hand brushed her hair softly before he draped a blanket over her shoulders. He handed her a tablet. “Do whatever you like,” he said, his voice almost detached.
Stella stared at him, unsure of what he was asking of her. But he was already seated at the desk, focused on his work.
“Do you want me to just sit here and watch you work?” she asked, her voice tinged with frustration.
He glanced at her, a faint expression crossing his face. “Don’t you have anything else to do?” he asked, his words implying that he wanted her to stay with him while he worked.
Stella, understanding the underlying request, simply nodded. She didn’t argue, knowing it would only complicate things. But then, she hesitated. “Can you give me some earphones?” she asked quietly. “I don’t want to disturb you.”
“There’s no need,” he replied, cutting her off. “You can play it out loud. I won’t get disturbed.”
A flash of bitterness crossed her face as she recalled the many times she had tiptoed around the door, careful not to disturb him while he worked. But now, he was telling her to play it out loud.
Her lips curled into a mockingly bitter smile as she hid her expression behind the tablet, not allowing him to see the sneer forming on her face.
The hours passed in relative silence, the only sounds the faint clicks of his keyboard and the occasional flicker of the tablet as Stella binge-watched movies, fast-forwarding them at double speed or simply reading the synopses. Occasionally, Weston would glance at her, confirming that she was still there, before turning back to his work.
Before either of them knew it, afternoon had arrived. Weston glanced at the time and then at her. “Are you hungry yet?”
Skip to content