Chapter 413
[ 743 words ]
Chapter 414
When Stella had first martied into the Wright family, Dora had wanted to use this exact method to put her in her place.
She had planned to make Stella scrub the rugs inch by inch with a tiny brush.
The curtains had to be washed by hand too.
Unfortunately for Dora, Evan had protected Stella too closely back then, and Stella had never bowed her
head.
That time, Stella hadn’t done any of it.
But now, Dora and Fiona would.
Seeing their faces turn livid, Stella said, “What’s wrong? You don’t want to do it? That won’t work.”
Hadn’t Dora wanted to use this to humiliate her back then?
Then she could do it herself now.
Dora’s vision went dark in waves.
Stella added, “Oh, and Summer has already eaten. Mrs. Mendes did her work for her.”
The moment Dora and Fiona heard that Mrs. Mendes had done Summer’s share, their minds started working.
But then they thought of Ruby.
She had never been someone easy to provoke.
She had sent Mrs. Mendes here specifically to take care of Summer.
So they didn’t dare set their sights on Mrs. Mendes.
“We’re already starving,” Dora said through gritted teeth. “Can’t we eat first?”
Stella said, “One of you went to the Hernandez residence today. The other went to see Felix. I already know what you said.
“When you tried to ruin me, you wanted me dead. Don’t tell me you’re still hoping I’ll show you mercy
now.”
Who do they think Felix was?
If things had really gone according to their plan, Stella might not have even been left with a body to bury. 1
Unfortunately for them…
Nothing had gone the way they expected.
Stella smiled as she looked at Dora and Fiona, and that look made both their chests tighten.
“Don’t waste too much time,” she said. “If you drag it qut, you may not get dinner either.”
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Het voice was cold.
Today, she had truly fount Dora and Fiona a good job.
“Oh, right. The curtains and rugs are made from very delicate raaterials. Make sure you don’t use hot
water.”
She even reminded them kindly.
But that reminder made Dora remember what she had once said to Stella.
Back then, when she had ordered Stella to wash those things, she had said the exact same words.
Now Stella was returning them to her, word for word.
Dora’s head swam. “Fine, torture me all you want. But can’t you see Fiona is injured?”
“So?” Stella said. “I miscarried and lost a child, but didn’t you people still toss me around however you
liked?”
Dora froze.
So did Fiona.
When Stella mentioned her miscarriage, her tone was very light.
There wasn’t even the slightest trace of hatred in it.
But that calmness only made Dora and Fiona feel colder.
Dora’s breath hitched. “What does your miscarriage have to do with us? If you want to blame someone, blame your own body for not being able to carry the pregnancy. You were never easy to get pregnant in the first place. When you said you were pregnant, who would have believed you?”
Aside from the first time, Dora had never believed Stella whenever she said she had miscarried.
Later, she had even started to doubt whether Stella’s first pregnancy had been real at all.
Stella let out a cold laugh. “I couldn’t carry it?”
Dora went silent.
So did Fiona.
Wasn’t that the truth?
But now, facing Stella’s calm eyes, neither of them dared answer.
They remembered.
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A while ago, Stella had been making trouble nonstop, claiming again and again that her miscarriage had something to do with Summer.
She had even burned down the Bailey family’s house and smashed two of their properties.
Now Stella’s mocking question made Dora’s heart tremble.
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She couldn’t stand the way Stella was looking at her. “Don’t act like everyone is out to get you. It’s bad enough that you’re hurting the Wright family. Which one of us would be bored enough to hurt you?”
Stella still said nothing.
Dora’s confidence began to waver.
Could it be that Stella’s miscarriage really had something to do with Summer?
The child…
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Sara Lili
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
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