Chapter 650

[ 598 words ]

After hours of walking, Finley was about ready to lose his mind. He was seriously starting to hate Ronald.

Idris said, “Sir says you’ll probably have to stay out here for two years this time.”

“What the hell? Is he even human?!” Finley exploded the moment he heard “two years.”

It had only been a few days and he was already losing it couldn’t shower, barely enough water to drink, and the sun had already given him a killer farmer’s tan. His usually pampered face was peeling, for crying out loud. Two years of this? It’d kill him!

Finley was so pissed he almost had a heart attack. “Why doesn’t he just finish me off now?”

Honestly, it felt about the same as being executed.

Idris said, “Sir also says, if you keep running your mouth, he’ll make it even longer.”

Finley: “WHAT?!”

Make it longer? Was Ronald trying to kill him with stress alone?

It was just cruel. So inhuman. Seriously, Ronald was the absolute worst.

Finley swore up and down in his head, but he didn’t dare say another word out loud.

Two years. How was that even possible? He’d barely survived a few days.

Finley swallowed his pride, “Alright, alright, I get it. My bad.”

He was seriously going insane.

Idris continued, “Sir also says, he’s seen all the texts you sent to Miss Stella.”

Wait-what? That little troublemaker! She’d shown Ronald their messages? Those two must be in cahoots or something.

Finley wanted to crawl under a pile of sand and disappear.

What had he gotten himself into? Some kind of soul-bonded, over-sharing couple?

He took a shaky breath…

But before he could say anything else, Idris cut him off: “Sir says, by the way, apologizing isn’t going to help this time.”

Finley: “YOU’VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!”

He was going to have an ulcer at this rate. Apologies didn’t even work-how was he supposed to survive?

Before he could say another word, Idris had already hung up.

Everything that needed to be said had been said.

Finley stared at the dead phone in his hand and ran a hand through his hair, nearly yanking it out. “Ugh…”

Stella. That little princess. He wanted to text her-maybe yell at her-but now? He didn’t dare.

Under Ronald’s iron fist, Finley finally learned to behave.

Meanwhile, at the Quinn family estate.

Stella was about to crawl into bed when the housekeeper came in, bringing Dr. Dylan along. “Miss Stella, Dr. Dylan would like to check up on you.”

Stella blinked. “I’m not even sick, though.”

Ronald wasn’t around-he’d just stepped out to take a call.

Dylan gave a polite nod. “Mr. Ronald was worried, especially since you were out at that party tonight.”

Stella shrugged. “Oh, okay.”

Honestly, she felt perfectly fine. But if this check-up would calm Ronald down, she’d go along with it.

Dylan took her pulse and asked a few questions about her pregnancy.

When Ronald came back in, Dylan was finishing up. He gave his report

respectfully, “Sir, you have nothing to worry about. Miss Stella’s in great shape. Just, uh, be careful not to, uh, overdo things.”

Stella: “…”

Overdo things? What was that supposed to mean?

Ronald nodded. “Thanks, Dylan. Appreciate it.”

“My pleasure, sir.”

Dylan and the housekeeper left, and Stella, still propped on the bed, finally realized what Dylan was hinting at. Her cheeks went bright red.

She shot Ronald a look. “You-honestly…”

Ronald just grinned, pulling her into his arms, his voice low and teasing, “Did you miss me?”

Stella tried to push him away. “If my mom finds out, you’re dead meat.”

“Nice try, but no one’s going to save you now,” he murmured, eyes sparkling with mischief.

His tone was all warmth and affection, but his smile? It was pure hunter-making it clear there was no escape for his prey.

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