Chapter 110
Chapter 110:
No, that second one didn’t sound like him.
“Anyway, I heard you were doing an inspection,” he continued casually. “Figured I’d pick you up. There’s only Rita at home anyway, and I haven’t had lunch. I’m starving. I want braised ribs.”
He didn’t even blink. She stared at him, stunned. He ordered a dish?!
The driver up front tried hard not to laugh.
Stella just sat there in silence, fuming. He treated her like his personal chef, and the worst part? She couldn’t even say no.
Back at the villa, she headed straight to the kitchen without even changing out of her clothes. Rita didn’t even need to lift a finger this time—just managed the stove.
Once the ribs were simmering, Stella went upstairs to shower and change.
By the time she came back down, the aroma filled the entire kitchen—the ribs were ready to be served.
She set the plate in front of William with a forced smile. “Mr. Briggs, dinner is served.”
She practically spoke through clenched teeth, but William didn’t seem to mind. He gave her a small smile. “Thanks, Ms. Russell. Join me?” She wanted to roll her eyes but sat down anyway. There was no point in arguing—she never won.
After dinner, she glanced at the time. She needed to shop.
She had a meeting with Steven coming up and not a single decent outfit to wear.
Later, at the mall, Stella stood in front of a full-length mirror in a boutique, admiring the bold red dress she had on. It hugged her curves and made her feel confident. She liked it. She then asked the assistant to wrap up all the clothes she had chosen, including the red dress she was wearing.
Back when she was with Marc, she’d never have worn something like this. He’d hated anything too bright or too revealing. He used to say it made him jealous. He’d made her wear long sleeves in the summer. But that wasn’t her anymore. Now, she liked what she wore. She liked who she was.
Being expected to play the role of the dutiful wife—that was the biggest cage of all. A painful reminder of how she’d once been stripped of her freedom.
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A woman could be anything—soft, sharp, sexy, smart. But she should never be just dutiful.
After checking out at the clothing store, Stella headed toward the home goods store. But as the elevator doors slid open, she froze.
She hadn’t even stepped in yet, and already her mood took a nosedive—the sight of the two people inside was enough to kill her shopping vibe.
Marc stood silently in the elevator when his eyes lifted—and locked on her. Stella. Dressed in a striking red dress, standing just outside the doors. For a second, he forgot how to breathe.
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.
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