"Stella?"

I was just returning from the grocery store, stepping into the apartment complex when I heard someone call my name from behind. I turned around, my expression freezing in place. It was Angel.

The image of her wrapped in Jensen's arms, with a disdainful smile on her face, replayed in my mind over and over again. I thought I had let all that go, that after these months it no longer mattered. But seeing her now, I realized that wasn’t true. I hadn't moved on; I had merely hidden the scars for a while.

My whole body went rigid, an inexplicable coldness seeping into my limbs. Angel approached me, acting as if nothing had happened.

“Stella, it really is you!”

Even the loud, bustling sounds of the street couldn't drown out the sharp click of her heels on the pavement. It took me what felt like ages to find my voice again.

“Angel. What are you doing here?”

I hadn't noticed how hoarse and raw my voice sounded until I spoke. She beamed at me, her smile insistent as she closed the distance between us. "I'm on a business trip. And you? Still working in real estate?"

My heart skipped a beat. How did she know? At the time, sales was the only job that required no credentials but offered a chance to earn substantial money. Though the job was grueling and sometimes required me to put on a brave face for clients, Jensen’s medical bills were astronomical. In comparison, if it meant he could wake up, the hardship seemed insignificant.

Yet, I hadn't been in the job long before getting fired due to an "incident." I thought it was because I wasn't good enough and regretted it for a long time. I looked up at Angel's ever-present smile and felt a sting—a smile more like a mockery of me. Instinctively, I asked, "Have you been checking up on me?"

She flicked her hair back, laughing. “I don’t have the resources for that. Jensen’s been the one keeping tabs on you.”

My eyes widened in shock. He had known all along how hard I was working?! Yet he never showed his face.

I felt something inside me break—my heart splintering into countless fragments.

“But you know…” Angel drawled slowly, “it was actually my suggestion to Jensen that he shouldn't intervene.”

I stared at her, wide-eyed.

She scoffed, "Why are you so surprised? Did you really think Jensen loved you?"

“Someone like you, without looks or brains, isn’t a match for him.”

"I don't mind telling you now, your previous sales job was a little trap I suggested to Jensen."

“Do you remember Mr. Smith?”

Her words hit me like a bolt from the blue, sending shockwaves through me. Mr. Smith was my boss in real estate sales. At the time, as a rookie, closing a deal was no walk in the park. To win clients over, I would wake up before dawn to buy breakfast and wait at their doorsteps. I’d help care for their elderly, clean bathrooms, and even pick up their kids from school.

Yet, just as I was about to close a deal, Mr. Smith stole the client from me and claimed the hefty commission, leaving me to watch in disbelief. Not only that, but he started stalking me. One night, he attacked me from behind, and if it weren’t for a passerby, my life would have been ruined.

Worse still, I didn’t even have the luxury of time to press charges. I needed to work and save up for medical bills, and a lawsuit would drain me of money and time I couldn't afford to lose. He offered me a sum for a private settlement, and I had no choice but to accept it quietly.

The next day at the morning meeting, he told everyone that the client chose him over me and that I had falsely accused him of harassment out of spite, forcing him to pay me off. The conversation where I accepted the money was his irrefutable evidence.

I not only lost my job but was detained because of it.

When I was released, I felt like I had lost everything. Returning to my rented apartment, I found my belongings tossed in the trash by my landlord, the door tightly locked. I stared blankly at the chaos, feeling like the unluckiest person in the world.

That day, I stood with one foot over the edge of the rooftop. Then, the call came from the hospital—a doctor telling me Jensen had shown signs of improvement, that his eyelids had fluttered. They said not to give up, that there was still hope.

That call saved me that day.

But it was all a lie. Mr. Smith was part of their game. How could Jensen watch as I was humiliated and driven to despair?

Perhaps, just like this, he held Angel as they laughed at my foolishness. Would he have felt even a twinge of regret for what he did to me? No, he wouldn’t. Had he cared even a little, he wouldn’t have let me fall that far.

Even that hospital call was just a cruel game, like toying with a dog. I was nothing more than a pawn to him and Angel. The thought brought a bitter laugh to my lips, tears streaming down, tasting so bitter.

Jensen, you made my life so bitter. If you didn’t love me, why couldn’t you just let me go? Why torture me like this?

"Ahhhh—!"

The empty street echoed with the sound of my despairing sobs.

Angel's dismissive gaze swept over me.

"You're out of your mind."

Anger ignited in me, and I slapped her hard across the face.

She held her cheek in disbelief. "Stella, have you completely lost it?"

I remained silent, seized her hair, and struck her again.

Angel's face quickly turned red and swollen, her eyes wide with fear. She staggered back, panic all over her features. "What are you doing? Stella, we're in public!"

I sauntered forward, casually adjusting my hair. Is she scared now? Too late!

Angel spun around in a panic, only to bump into someone approaching.

The moment she realized who it was, her voice faltered. "Jensen..."

Her rescuer had arrived.

I sneered disdainfully.

Jensen moved past her, frowning slightly as he looked at me. "Stella, what's going on here?"

Before I could respond, Angel shrieked her version of events. "We just happened to bump into each other on a business trip, I wanted to catch up, but she attacked me out of nowhere!"

"Jensen, look at my face, it hurts so badly."

He gently touched her bruised, swollen face, concern clear in his eyes.

Watching them together was like salt in a wound.

If he’s fallen for someone else, why keep up this charade with me?

I was too drained to argue with them any further.

Every word felt like poison.

I turned to leave, but Jensen caught my wrist.

"Isn't that enough?" he barked. "You've hit her, you've yelled, what more do you want? You didn’t use to be like this!"

His tone made it seem like I was the one out of control.

But clearly, he was the one who’d driven me to desperation.

He’d taken everything from me, left me empty.

I had nothing left.

And now, even my last shred of dignity was being crushed by him.

My heart twisted in agony.

I struggled to suppress the pain, barely managing to speak through clenched teeth.

"Jensen, you make me nauseous. Please, don't ever show your face in front of me again."

His expression twisted in anger.

He cornered me against the wall, his voice menacing.

"Say that again!"

Tears welled up in my eyes, and I snapped, "Just seeing you makes me sick. Just leave me alone, alright?"

Jensen cursed, "What the hell did I even do wrong? Was it wrong to test you?!"

"Yes, I admit you've suffered these past years, but everything I own is yours now!"

"My entire fortune is worth more than the past three years, isn't it?!"

"I said I'd make it up to you, and I will. Do we have to keep fighting like this?!"

Seeing the fire in my eyes, his tone softened.

"Let's stop arguing, okay? Whatever you want, I'll agree to it."

I looked at his arrogant, detached face.

After a long pause, I whispered.

"Leave."

As soon as the words left my mouth, Jensen slapped me without hesitation.

"Do you think I respect you, Stella? Why are you making such a big deal out of this?"

I held my cheek, glaring at him with all the hatred I could muster. He grabbed my wrist, yanking me along with him.

"You're coming back with me!"

"No—"

I struggled fiercely, desperate to break free. His gaze was filled with anger and confusion as he turned to me.

"What are you doing—"

"Get off me! Just let go!"

I pounded on his hand, tears streaming down my face. Every place he'd touched felt defiled, like an allergic reaction spreading red welts across my skin. Everything had to be his way. He set the tests, the rules, and he insisted I go back with him. He never considered how shattered my heart was, how deeply he'd wounded me.

"Stella!"

A clear voice cut through the tension between us. Jensen frowned at the newcomer. I seized the moment, wrenching free from Jensen's grasp and rushing toward the voice.

"Dante!"

No one could know how relieved I felt the moment I saw Dante. It was like finding solid ground after hanging in mid-air for ages. My body stopped shaking so violently. Dante quickly wrapped me in a protective embrace, checking frantically for injuries.

"Are you hurt anywhere?"

I clung to his shirt, my head shaking as I felt the flood of tears continue. I didn't even get a word out before they began falling anew.

"Does anything hurt? Tell me."

Jensen gave Dante a hard shove, his tone hostile. "Who the hell are you?"

Dante stared right back, unfazed. "I'm her boyfriend."

Jensen's eyebrows knitted into a tight knot. He looked at me, then back at Dante incredulously.

"Ridiculous. Where did you come from? Do you even know Stella is my girlfriend? You think you can just waltz in here?"

Dante's voice was calm but carried an edge that made even me shudder. "After what you did, she stopped being your girlfriend. I suggest you back off."

Jensen laughed like he'd heard the world's funniest joke.

"Why don't you ask her if she agrees? Stella loves me to death. She can't live without me. You little wannabe hero, don't fool yourself. Stella, come here!"

I stood still, not giving Jensen an inch.

"Stella, get over here!"

Instead, I slipped behind Dante, not sparing Jensen another glance. Jensen's face darkened. He reached for me, but Dante pulled me protectively behind him.

"Stella, you better get over here!"

I clutched Dante's shirt tightly, shaking my head.

Dante spoke with calm authority, "As you can see, she doesn't want to go with you, Mr. King. I suggest you act like a gentleman and let her be."

Jensen's expression cracked bit by bit. He clenched his teeth, barely containing his anger.

"You don't know a damn thing. She'd do anything for me! You showing up changes nothing. For my sake, she—"

Dante's fist lashed out before Jensen could finish.

"Watch your mouth!"

Caught off guard, Jensen crumpled to the ground. He tried to retaliate, but Angel quickly intervened.

"Jensen, don't! There are too many people watching, and if the press shows up—"

"Angel, let go!"

"Jensen! There'll be another chance. Let's just go!"

Angel clung to his waist, finally calming him down. He looked around at the growing crowd of onlookers. Jensen shot me a glare full of daggers.

"Stella, don't come crawling back to me crying later."

Even after they had gone, my body continued to shake uncontrollably.

"Stella, Stella, it’s okay, you’re safe now!"

Dante was rubbing my arms gently, and I suddenly found myself sitting on a sofa in a quiet room. The confrontation with Jensen and his threats echoed in my ears, chilling me to the bone.

"I'm sorry for dragging you into this!"

I knew I was a mess, a bundle of tears and helpless worry, unable to do anything but cry like a fool. Dante gently wiped away my tears.

"Don't worry. I’ll be here with you. I’m not afraid of you being a burden; I’m only worried you won't need me at all."

"Will he come after me again, Dante? I'm really scared!"

Dante wrapped his arms around me.

"I’ll stay by your side, not leaving you for a second. I won’t let him hurt you again. Stella, don’t be afraid. You’ve got me."

I rested against him. His heartbeat was strong and steady, calming the turmoil inside me. His shoulders were broad and warm.

"Stella, I’ll protect you."

I nodded. My emotions had settled, yet I didn't want to let go of that comforting warmth. Even if it was just a dream, even if it might lead to pain later. Just for this moment, just for now. Let me love once more. Just give me a second.

I nestled into his embrace, drifting into sleep. In my dreams, I was back in high school, with that determined boy who never backed down, no matter how much he was hit.

"Dante..." I murmured softly.

"You're calling out to that bastard again!" An angry voice jolted me awake.

"Jensen King!"