Chapter 27

Chapter 27:
Tires shrieked across the pavement, the piercing sound slicing through the air. William stomped on the brakes, rolled down his window, and scowled as he caught sight of Stella.
“Are you courting death?” he barked, his voice cold as steel.
Stella didn’t waste a second on his temper. She strode right up to the window and thrust the stack of documents toward him.
“Mr. Briggs, I just need a moment. These files require your immediate attention.”
William’s eyes flicked from her determined face to the documents in her grip.
For a heartbeat, he said nothing—then hit the door release with a curt motion.
“Get in. I’m on a tight schedule. We’ll go over them as we drive.”
She hesitated, pressing her lips into a thin line, ready to protest. But something about his expression made her swallow the words. Instead, she circled the hood, pulled open the passenger door, and slid inside.
The car glided away from the research institute, its engine humming quietly. Neither of them noticed the watchful eyes fixed on them from a car parked just behind and to the right, watching every detail of their exchange.
Marc had just finished a meeting with a client and, by chance, drove past the research institute on his way back. To his surprise, he spotted Stella at the entrance, slipping into another man’s car.
From where he sat, he watched Stella flash the man a bright, easy smile—a smile Marc couldn’t remember her giving him in ages.
A storm gathered in Marc’s expression as he reached for a cigarette and lit it, the flame trembling slightly in his hand.
He suddenly recalled the man from the bar the night before. Now that he looked closer, wasn’t it the same guy?
Did that mean Stella had been with someone else these past two days? The realization made him crush the cigarette between his fingers, embers snuffing out in his palm.
His feelings for Stella ran deep. Throughout their marriage, he’d done his best to give her everything she wanted.
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Had his recent attention to Haley pushed Stella into someone else’s arms? Haley was just a fling to him; he would never replace Stella. But what was Stella doing here?
Fury flared—he slammed his fist onto the steering wheel, making the horn shriek through the enclosed car. Stella belonged to him—no one else.
Inside the Bentley, Stella extended the documents toward William. “Mr. Briggs, my team and I prepared these documents for your review.”
William arched an eyebrow, his gaze fixed on her for several lingering seconds, making sure she really was just talking business.
An amused smile curled at his lips. “I have to say, you’re a lot more tempting now than when you tried to play innocent yesterday.”
She definitely caught his eye—there was something about her that set her apart from the rest.
The word “tempting” rolled off his tongue, paired with the same charged look he’d given her that night.
A chill crept over Stella as she caught the strange glint in his eyes. “Mr. Briggs…”
“I’ll leave the documents with you. There’s no need for me to stay. Could you let me out here?”
That unblinking stare unsettled her, and for a moment, she felt hunted. William’s eyebrow flicked upward, but he did as she asked, steering the car to the curb.
Stella wasted no time; she pushed open the door and slipped out.
William’s car sped off without a backward glance.
She headed straight back to the office, burying herself in work.
That night, she returned home to an empty house, well aware Marc wouldn’t be coming back.
If everything continued as planned, she didn’t have much time left.
She craved nothing more than to vanish from Marc’s world for good. Glancing around the house, her eyes caught on small things she hadn’t managed to clear out.
She’d already packed away whatever wasn’t on display, but now she turned her attention to the last traces. A stack of instant photos with Marc lingered on the shelf, along with a handful of souvenirs from old trips.
In recent days, the demands of the project had kept her too busy to dwell on these details.
But now, with her place on the project team secured and her schedule lighter, those forgotten bits resurfaced, impossible to ignore.
Fragments of her life with Marc drifted through her thoughts, sharp and bittersweet.
She reached for the pair of ceramic cups on the shelf, the ones they’d shaped together on vacation.
They’d never actually used the cups—just left them out as a reminder of a different time.
In those days, Marc’s attention had belonged to her alone, his gaze never straying to anyone else.
On one of their trips, the two of them had caught a rare glimpse of a shooting star streaking across the night sky.
Stella could still recall the wish she’d whispered to herself back then—a simple hope that she and Marc would always be happy together. Now, as she remembered it, the memory felt almost laughable.
Her eyes landed on the pair of ceramic cups, and she let out a low, self-mocking chuckle.
People really did change, she realized, and now she finally understood how true that was.
With a tightness growing in her chest, Stella tore her gaze from those reminders of the past and began gathering them up, determined to throw them out.
Just as she started to pack everything away, the sound of the front door opening made her pause.
.
.
.