Chapter 892
Chapter 892:
Amon offered no more persuasion, whistling a carefree tune as he strolled toward the elevator, as though the encounter had been nothing more than a friendly call.
Stella remained frozen in the silent hallway, the garish blue roses clutched against her chest like a weight dragging her down.
It dawned on her that Amon had staged everything, angling his posture so William would see only the worst.
The thought rattled Stella, though she couldn’t grasp how Amon had predicted William’s sudden arrival with such precision.
What crucial sign had she missed?
And the bitter truth cut deeper—William hadn’t even given her a chance to speak.
Did he truly doubt her to the point of refusing to hear her side at all? She hadn’t even demanded to know who that woman was who answered his phone. Wasn’t Luca supposed to be his assistant?
A knot of sorrow and frustration twisted inside her, and Stella’s eyes burned with tears she refused to shed.
With a sharp motion, Stella dumped the gaudy roses into the trash bin in the hallway and slammed her door shut behind her.
Stella’s phone was in her hand within seconds, William’s number glowing on the screen, her thumb trembling over the call button.
But the words stuck in her throat before they could ever be spoken. What could she possibly say?
Should she admit that Amon had tried to corner her with threats and bargains, or confess that she’d nearly been forced into a deal?
The memory of William’s glacial stare made her chest ache; it had already told her he would never believe her side.
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At last, Stella let the phone slip from her hand and land on the couch, then collapsed into the cushions, her body heavy with defeat. Fine. Let William believe whatever story he wanted.
For the next couple of days, Stella and William were caught in a quiet standoff. At the institute, they passed each other often enough, but William never really looked at her. He kept his focus on work, his expression cool, and whenever Stella happened to cross his line of sight, his gaze just slid past like she was a stranger.
All the little things he used to do—waiting for her after hours, dropping off coffee, sneaking her late-night snacks—gone, just like that. Even when it came to work, he didn’t bother talking to her directly anymore. Everything went through Luca or Paul.
It was almost funny. Not long ago, she’d been the one putting up walls. Now he was the one freezing her out.
Stella knew he was angry. She could feel it. But her pride wouldn’t let her cave first.
So she buried herself in research and her own digging. Her laptop might’ve been toast, but P73X stayed lodged in her head, a splinter she couldn’t ignore.
She leaned on Sharon again, pulling strings where she could.
If she couldn’t count on anyone else, she’d just push forward on her own. Even on the same floor, sometimes just steps away, it felt like she and William lived in two different worlds—separated by a wall of ice nobody could break. Everyone noticed the tension. The air in the institute was prickly, like static before a storm. No one dared bring it up.
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