Chapter 13

Chapter 13:
It was William!
Stella blinked in surprise. What were the odds? How did he end up in the very car she thought she’d booked?
Even William looked mildly taken aback, his one brow lifting with quiet curiosity.
Without thinking, she blurted out, “What are you doing here?”
William raised a brow, his tone dry and just slightly amused. “Ms. Russell, if you needed a ride, my driver would’ve been happy to take you. But climbing into my car like this? A bit bold, don’t you think? Or is this a habit of yours—confusing cars… or people?”
Meeting his deep, unreadable gaze, Stella finally realized her mistake—she’d entered the wrong car.
She hadn’t checked the plate—just saw the same model and color as the one she’d booked and got in without thinking. She never expected to mess up like this.
Still, did he have to be so sharp-tongued about it? Then again, thinking back, she did owe him an apology.
Taking a breath, she composed herself. “I’m sorry, Mr. Briggs. I didn’t realize this was your car. My mistake. I’ll get out.”
But just as her hand touched the door handle, William’s voice stopped her.
“Wait.”
She turned, puzzled. “Yes, Mr. Briggs?”
She’d already apologized. Surely he wouldn’t dwell on something this minor? His gaze carried a quiet weight—so intense it felt suffocating, even though he hadn’t raised his voice.
Was he actually upset? Just because of this? Or was it something more?
William spoke in his usual calm, deliberate tone. “I saw the note in the jacket you returned. Frankly, since I gave it to you, I wasn’t expecting it back. Ms. Russell, I’d rather you focus on your responsibilities. The least you can do is show some professionalism.”
His words caught her off guard. Did he really think she’d left her number in some desperate attempt to flirt? That she got into his car today on purpose? She opened…
She opened her mouth to explain, but he had already stepped out of the car, leaving her in silence.
Heat rose to Stella’s cheeks. How could she even begin to explain that night? It was impulsive, thoughtless. Better left forgotten. Some things just couldn’t be talked away. She slipped into the correct car this time and slumped into the back seat with a heavy sigh.
When she arrived at the research institute, she got straight to work, sorting through her things.
Lainey, who was helping nearby, swung a cabinet door open and accidentally whacked the back of Stella’s head.
Stella let out a cry, instinctively holding her head as dizziness swept over her.
Alarmed, Lainey gently pulled her hand aside to take a look.
The area was red, already swelling, with a few spots of blood seeping out—it looked worse than she expected.
Lainey gasped. “Oh no, Stella! That looks bad. We have to get you to a hospital now.”
Stella winced but waved her off. “It’s okay, really. No need for the hospital. I’ll be fine. And it’s not your fault.”
Not her fault? Lainey hesitated, then remembered Stella had said she was going to see Marc earlier.
Her expression darkened. She grabbed Stella’s shoulders. “Tell me the truth. Did that scumbag Marc lay a hand on you?”
Once Stella had regained her balance, she quietly explained what had gone down at Marc’s company. “Lainey, don’t stress. I promise it’s not serious. I’ll be fine in a few days.”
But Lainey wasn’t pacified. She was fuming. “Unbelievable! You’re his wife—how dare he hit you over some other woman?”
Watching Lainey rage, Stella’s lips tightened.
Yes, over another woman, her own husband had shoved her.
When had he turned into this kind of man?
Or maybe… he’d always been like this, and she’d just been too blind to see it.
While she stood lost in thought, her phone suddenly rang. Lainey glanced at the screen and scowled. It was Marc.
.
.
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