Xavier chuckled and gently tipped up the chin of the stunning woman at his side. “Come on, let me introduce her to you!”
His taste in women hadn’t changed over the years—he still preferred the flashiest celebrities, always chasing the hottest faces on the scene. Weston, however, had never paid much attention to any of them. He couldn’t even tell one from another, and frankly, he didn’t care to.
“Wait for me in the car,” Weston said to Stella without sparing the woman beside Xavier so much as a glance.
“Aww, why’d you send Ella away?” Xavier whined in mock disappointment. “She should get to know my girlfriend! That way, things’ll be more fun the next time we all hang out!”
The words sounded friendly—playful, even. But everyone, including the woman on Xavier’s arm, knew it was just talk. His reputation preceded him. He never kept a woman around for more than a week.
Weston’s frown deepened, his irritation obvious.
“Alright, alright,” Xavier raised both hands in mock surrender. He knew full well his nephew hated hearing Ella compared to one of his many passing flings. “I get it. I won’t say stuff like that again, promise. But seriously, why are you still here? Why not head off with your beloved sweetheart?”
“I need the manager,” Weston said flatly. “Get him. I want to see the surveillance footage from the hallway.”
Meanwhile, Stella sat alone in the car, her thoughts racing. She stared out the window, her heart pounding with unease. Had he noticed something?
It felt like an eternity before she finally spotted Weston’s tall figure striding briskly toward the vehicle. He opened the door and got in without a word.
Stella watched him silently, unsure how to even begin.
“Drive,” Weston said to the driver.
“Yes, sir.”
The car pulled away, leaving the club behind as lights faded into the distance.
Stella hesitated for a long moment, playing her words over in her mind before finally speaking.
“So… what were you doing back there?”
Weston turned slightly. “Are you planning to meddle in my private life now?” His tone was calm, but there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Isn’t it a bit early for that?”
“I’m not interested in your private life,” she snapped back, but her voice softened almost immediately. She looked down, quiet again, until something else came to mind.
“Do you go to Lowe Garden often?”
Justin had once mentioned that Weston kept another woman there. At the time, she hadn’t cared—it wasn’t her place, nor did she have the desire to dig deeper. But now, with the question hanging between them, Weston’s expression shifted. For the first time, he genuinely thought she might be jealous.
“Who told you that?” he asked, eyes narrowing as he studied her. He reached out, gently cupping her chin to keep her from looking away.
“It doesn’t matter who told me,” Stella said, her hands clenching into fists at her sides.
“Is it true?”
Weston wasn’t the type to tolerate being questioned—especially by a woman. But for some reason, coming from Stella, it didn’t annoy him. In fact, it oddly pleased him. Like a storm cloud suddenly clearing, the tension inside him began to lift.
Without a word, he pulled her into his lap, his arms wrapping firmly around her waist.
Leaning in, he captured her lips in a kiss—slow and lingering, filled with surprising gentleness.
“It’s not what you think,” he murmured between kisses, brushing her hair back as his lips returned to hers again. “You’re my only woman. Okay?”
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