Chapter 7

Chapter 7:
Stella had had enough. In one swift motion, she brought her knee up sharply, landing a brutal blow between Marc’s legs.
Marc let out a low, pained groan as his body gave out, folding onto the carpet. He clung to her with one trembling hand, refusing to let go. His breath came in sharp, uneven bursts, and beads of cold sweat slid down the sides of his face, soaking into his hairline.
Stella yanked a tissue from her bag and scrubbed her lips with disgust. Her gaze burned down at him. “Didn’t you say nothing happened with your precious friend? Then why are you acting guilty? What exactly are you so afraid of?”
The veins on his forehead pulsed like they might burst, and for a second, it looked like he might lose control completely.
But then, the coat she had been holding slipped from her grasp, landing in front of him with the tag still dangling—brand new, untouched.
Marc froze. Then, to her surprise, a dark laugh rolled from his throat. He got up slowly and slid his arms around her waist like she was already his again. “Stella, this is all an act to make me jealous, right? You bought a new coat and pretended it was some other man’s. I know you too well—you can’t stay mad at me for long.”
He buried his face against her waist, nuzzling her like a child seeking forgiveness, his domineering edge melting into tender pleading. “Don’t pull something like this again, okay? You’re everything to me. If I lost you, I’d lose my mind.”
His voice trembled with emotion—obsessive, desperate, and, for a brief moment, it stirred something deep in Stella’s heart.
During the first two years they were together, all they had ever shared were gentle kisses and warm, lingering hugs.
Whenever things grew intense, Marc would simply hold her like this—pressing close, murmuring in a raspy voice how he couldn’t survive without her. Back then, Stella had truly believed that what they had would never break. That it was real. Unshakable.
After a long stretch of silence with no reply from her, Marc finally lifted his gaze. His eyes, faintly reddened, held a touch of quiet hurt.
“Stella… please don’t stay mad at me, alright? There’s nothing between me and her. My heart, my body—it’s always been yours. Only yours.”
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He gently took her hand and placed it over his chest, looking at her with heartfelt intensity. “I made a promise. I’d never break that. Never.”
Stella didn’t withdraw her hand. Her fingers rested over his chest, where his heartbeat pounded steadily beneath her palm.
Her voice, however, was ice-cold. “Do you remember the consequences of breaking that vow?”
The moment she said it, the chest beneath her hand tensed instantly.
She watched panic flicker in his eyes as she recited it slowly, word for word. “If you break this vow, Marc… may you be cursed with infertility, die a painful and untimely death, lose everything and everyone you love, and be left in ruin and despair.”
Marc couldn’t hold her gaze anymore. He turned away, sat up beside her, and muttered while holding her hand, “If it means you’ll stop being angry, I’ll agree to whatever you say.”
And just like that, Stella felt a bitter emptiness settle in. What was the point of all this?
A man who could lie without blinking wasn’t going to be shaken by a curse, not even one that damned his soul.
She calmly pulled her hand away. “You’ve been busy lately—I get it. I believe you. No more fights. Didn’t you say something about Midstream Isle? Let’s go next weekend.”
Marc exhaled in visible relief, drawing her into his embrace and pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. “Next weekend, then. I’ll plan everything.”
With her soft figure in his arms and that familiar scent clouding his senses, he knew this was only a temporary peace. He had to find a way to make her truly his again.
Stella buried her revulsion deep down, her eyes turning to frost.
Next weekend, Marc would finally receive the “surprise” she’d been preparing for him.
Night had fallen, and the sky was heavy with dark clouds, hinting at an approaching storm.
Marc walked out of the bathroom, a towel loosely tied around his waist, steam still clinging to his skin. His toned body was fully on display.
He climbed into bed and leaned in close, resting against Stella’s neck. Glancing at the book she was holding, he murmured, “Stella, a friend of mine brought back a box of ultra-thin condoms from Raskait. Want to give them a try tonight?”
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