At Weston Ford’s command, Stella Sealey silently stepped forward. Standing beside him, her petite frame seemed even more delicate, wholly eclipsed by his towering presence.
“Bend over,” he instructed from behind her.
Stella blinked, confused. Unsure of what he meant, she hesitantly lowered her head, stiff and awkward. That only earned a low chuckle from Weston.
“Are you doing yoga?”
Flushing with embarrassment, she quickly straightened and stepped aside. “I give up.”
But Weston wasn’t irritated. Instead, he reached out and lightly patted her cheek. “Getting shy already?”
Stella shrank from his touch, refusing to meet his gaze, but said nothing. Her reaction only amused him further. He pinched her cheek gently, a smirk tugging at his lips.
“Alright, I’ll stop teasing. Let’s be serious now.”
He gestured for a waiter to bring him a cue stick. Then, stepping behind her, he placed his hands on her shoulders and waist, adjusting her posture with focused precision. His arms wrapped around her as he guided her body into position.
“This angle works best,” he murmured, lifting her arm slightly. “Keep your eyes level and focus on the contact point. Don’t hesitate—put your strength there.”
His voice, low and steady, brushed against her ear with every word, his warm breath stirring goosebumps across her skin. There was no space between them—his chest pressed lightly against her back, following every subtle shift of her body. Still, Stella concentrated, her gaze fixed on the ball.
With Weston holding her hand, she drew the cue back and took a shot.
Plonk!
The cue ball rolled smoothly forward and struck the target with calculated force, sinking it cleanly into the pocket.
“A hole in one!” Xavier Ford clapped from the side, impressed though unsurprised.
It was just like Weston—effortlessly skilled in everything he did. Whether it was school, business, or even games like this, he always seemed to master everything with ease. Perhaps it was that very ease that made life feel dull to him.
Still, Xavier could see something different now—a quiet glimmer in his nephew’s eyes as he watched Stella play. A flicker of vitality that hadn’t been there before.
Meanwhile, Stella had grown visibly absorbed in the game. Her movements were cleaner now, more confident. She adjusted her stance and lined up another shot with growing ease.
“I’d like to play on my own,” she said softly, glancing at Weston.
He didn’t hesitate. “Sure.”
Smiling slightly, he stepped back, letting her take over. With a flick of his hand, he signaled for a waiter to bring him a glass of wine and strolled toward the seating area.
Xavier soon joined him, wiping sweat from his brow as he reached for a drink. He watched Stella for a moment before chuckling. “Only you could teach someone like her.”
Weston’s expression darkened. He took the glass from Xavier’s hand and returned it to the waiter’s tray.
“She’s not stupid.”
Xavier raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you just call her stupid a moment ago?”
Weston didn’t miss a beat. “Only I get to call her that. Not you.”
He poured out the glass Xavier had sipped from and handed it back to the waiter, ordering a fresh one. Xavier lifted his hands in surrender.
“Alright, alright. Got it.”
Still, he gave Weston a curious look. “That said… don’t you think you’re being a little too protective of Miss Sealey?”
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