Chapter 451

Chapter 451:
Doreen never imagined she would be reprimanded by a stranger like this.
Tears welled up in her eyes as she looked at Marc and whispered, “Mr. Walsh, she’s right. It’s all my fault. I know it’s my fault… but the baby is innocent. Don’t worry, once I have the baby, I’ll leave.”
Marc glanced at Doreen, her eyes all red from crying, and felt a strange irritation in his chest.
“Go back inside,” he said, waving her off. “Stop making a scene.”
Doreen froze, completely blindsided.
Marc had never treated her like this before. Why wasn’t he defending her now? Every time he met Stella, he would become a different man.
No matter how bitter Doreen felt, she could only drag herself toward the private room, glancing back at every step like she was waiting for him to call her back.
Marc blocked Stella’s path again.
“Stel, it’s not what you think. The baby… it was a mistake. I never planned to be with her. It’s always been you.”
Stella’s face twisted with disgust. “Oh, please. Can you stop pretending you’re some saint? A mistake? You ‘accidentally’ got naked together, huh?” She wasn’t buying that garbage.
Marc’s face drained of color. A few people nearby overheard, and he felt their stares sink into him.
“Why are you trying to drag me down like this?” Marc snapped. “Aren’t you chasing status too? Didn’t William dump you already?”
He’d seen William earlier—with another woman. Definitely not Stella.
Marc had always said a guy like William would never stick around. Just a fling, that was all.
And now? Looks like he was right.
She had no right to talk down on him.
The tales you love are at gⱯlnσν𝓮ℓs․cøm
Marc stepped closer. “You’re no different from me, Stel. You were climbing just like I was. Why act all high and mighty now? Didn’t we have good times? Why pretend none of that mattered? I can forgive you. Why can’t you forgive me?”
Stella rolled her eyes, so done.
She used to love this guy. She used to give him everything. Thinking about it now made her feel like a total idiot.
Marc kept talking, but before he could finish, Sandra—who’d been swaying nearby—snatched a pair of tongs from the table.
She gripped them like a weapon, the sharp end pointed right at him. “Take one more step, creep, and I’ll stab you.”
Marc froze. “I’m talking to Stel—”
Sandra didn’t back down. “And I said get lost. Or I’m sticking these tongs into you.”
She jabbed them toward him for emphasis.
Marc’s face went ghost-pale. “Stel, just think about what I said.”
Sandra glared until he turned and disappeared into the private room. Then she casually set the tongs down and looped her arm through Stella’s. “Let’s go.”
Stella blinked, still processing Sandra’s sudden switch from drunk to dangerous.
They stepped out into the freezing wind, and Sandra groaned, clutching her pounding head.
.
.
.