"Aren't you a coward? Speak up if you are a man," I said.
The person chuckled softly, and then the call ended with a beep.
My fist clenched around the phone. I wanted to smash it into pieces, but then my rationality prevailed, and I dropped the phone back on the bed.
Walking back to the window, I had my gaze trained outside while I drew a few calming breaths.
I can't meet her with such a temper. Definitely not.
After what felt like forever, the door clicked open softly, and she stepped into the room, closing the door behind her as a sigh escaped her lips.
My heart tightened slightly; she must be quite exhausted, I mused.
"Why are you in my room?" she asked coldly. I turned around to meet her gaze.
For the first time, I felt fear and anxiety creeping up my heart. Her defiant frame, her cold gaze, her sensual lips were all pulling at my heartstrings.
"Stella," I called softly, hoping she would listen to me.
But then she repeated her question. This time it was colder than the last. I pleaded with her to hear me out.
"Bruce," she called. "The last time I checked, we were over, and we had nothing to do with each other. So, my dear brother-in-law, so…please leave," she concluded.
The word 'please' sounded more like a command than a request. But more than that, my ear buzzed with the one word I dislike to hear from her—"Brother-in-law."
She really needs to be taught a lesson. I closed the distance between us, trapping her between the wall and myself.
Her scent was messing with my brain. I lowered my head to her neck, her scent enveloped my senses.
Her chest rising and falling in a slow steady rhythm made my low abdomen tightened with desire.
I wanted to kiss her, to make her moan and whisper my name. I could feel the growing bulge down asking for release.
I was already uncomfortable with the closeness, but then, I had to speak to her.
"I know you still have feelings for me. Just give me an opportunity to have you, and I promise to walk down the aisle with you," I promised her.
My heart hammered against my chest—in hope, in excitement, and in fear. Recalling the idea of her getting married, I tried to make her understand my option was the best.
The low chuckle of the caller made me anxious. With every part of her body so inviting, I could no longer stand the attraction. My hands found her cheek; it was soft and smooth.
My breath was ragged. "Why not let me help you?" Her lips parted slowly and invitingly. I lowered my head to capture her lips.
Slap.
Slap.
My head snapped to the side, my eyes widening with shock, the taste of metal bubbling in my mouth. No doubt she must have used her full strength.
"Stella, did you just slap me?" I asked, hoping she would show fear or remorse, but then she met my gaze head-on unflinchingly.
My chest burned with fury. How dare she slap me? My prestige was hurt, and my pride wounded.
I decided to teach her a proper lesson. I lunged forward to kiss her hard, but she stepped away, and I crashed into the wall.
My head throbbed from the impact; I was sure it must have bruised or swelled up.
Just when I wanted to curse at her, she lunged forward, falling into my arms. Her scent hit my nostrils, and instinctively I snaked my hand around her waist.
My lips curled up at how fast she had changed, but the next moment the door burst open, and Phina stepped in.
My eyes narrowed. Now I understand. She had done it on purpose.
"Phina, why are you here?" I asked calmly as Stella stepped away from my arms. Her warmth still clung to my arms.
Phina was furious as she rattled about the disgrace or possibly where to put her face if it was a maid that walked in on us.
I knew I had to control the situation before it got out of hand, so I gave Phina the answer she would love to hear.
"I was only discussing a few pointers about the wedding hall since you wanted her to handle the design." I smirked, my gaze trained on Stella as she chuckled softly, clearly not refuting my claim.
After a long time of pacifying her, Phina left the room. I turned my attention to Stella, my lips curled up, my eyes trailing her body greedily.
Seeing her in a new light, I became reluctant to let go.
"Have you considered my offer?" I asked.
Her response left me fuming in anger. She had said, "To hell with you and your offer. You're worth nothing."
With this response, I have made my decision—she will crawl and beg me to take her, to claim her, and to make her mine.
I left her room and found Phina waiting for me down the hallway. "Bruce," she called softly.
I trapped her to the wall and kissed her with fury, with anger, and with resentment as they burned in my heart.
By the time I left her, she was gasping for breath, but I didn't give her a damn, and I spun on my heels, leaving the mansion.
She ran after me, calling, but I slid into the car, and the door shut with a soft thud.
Not getting a response from me, she spun on her heels and went back inside.
I didn't care to stop her, nor did I care about what she would be doing to Stella.
Maybe her actions might even make her want to come back to me.
I sighed deeply.
I spent a few more minutes in the car before I left the mansion, but not without a glance at the small window that was supposed to be hers.
Her image in the black dress engraved deeply in my memory.