Chapter 5

Charles had finally lost his patience. He flipped over, pinning Stella beneath him, gripping her jaw as he kissed her roughly. His hands slid up along her waist as his breath grew heavy and erratic. Stella was yanked out of her nightmare by an uneasy sensation. Her eyes snapped open, staring blankly at the swaying ceiling overhead. It wasn't until her legs were forced apart that everything hit her—hard. Fully aware of their position, she snapped. Her jaw tightened and she bit down on Charles's neck with all the fury she had. He grunted in pain but didn't let go, gripping her waist even tighter. His voice, low and grainy, brushed against her earlobe, full of mockery. "Already can't handle it before I even get started?" It wasn't the first time Stella had bit him during sex whenever things got too rough. But hearing those words now only made her feel utterly humiliated. She squirmed and fought like hell. "Get off me. Don't touch me." Their clothes were barely hanging on, and both of them were pressed close, skin to skin. The friction between them only made things worse. Charles' forehead pulsed with veins as he clenched her thigh tightly, eyes bloodshot. "Stay still if you don't want me to ruin you." Their eyes locked, and all Stella could see was the desire burning in his gaze. It made her sick. That night six years ago, Charles took away her innocence. And after that, unless she was on her period or right after giving birth, he would torment her almost every single night. He claimed to hate her, yet he couldn't get enough of her body. She used to think he was just mad at her—never that he truly despised her. Then Isabelle came back, and everything changed. Charles stopped touching her completely. Once, after she'd showered and tried to approach him, he threw her out like garbage. "Stella, you disgust me." Charles wasn't some sex-obsessed maniac, but his desire was intense. Since he thought she was disgusting, it could only mean one thing—he had Isabelle back now. But Sophie was gone. Their daughter was dead. Why should she let this faithless man continue to violate her? "Charles, if you touch me again, I'll call the cops and report you for marital rape." Her voice was ice as she stared blankly above, no more fighting, even though his grip on her thigh only tightened. The pain grounded her, made her sharper. Matching his tone from past times, she gave a cold, sarcastic laugh. "You're the one who's gross. You touch me, I want to puke. Get off." Something about her now was unfamiliar—cold, cutting. Charles froze. The heated tension in the room evaporated like someone flipped a switch. Any trace of desire disappeared. He rolled off her with disgust, tossed the blanket at her, and stalked off to the bathroom. His phone, tossed carelessly on the nightstand, kept lighting up. The name "Baby Olivia" lit up the screen again and again, stabbing at Stella's eyes—and her heart. She couldn't look at it anymore. She got dressed and walked out without a second glance. Sophie was still waiting for her. When Charles came out of the shower, the bed was empty. His face turned dark with rage. He stormed over, grabbed his phone, ready to order someone to go get both Stella and Sophie—but then he noticed the dozens of missed calls and unread messages. It hit him. He'd promised to stay with Olivia at the hospital before her procedure. He changed quickly and drove straight to Rosehill Villa. The second he stepped out of the car, Olivia came running, clinging to his legs with tears streaming down her cheeks. "Daddy, I thought you didn't want me anymore." His heart clenched. He bent down and scooped her up, kissing her cheek gently. "You're my princess. How could Daddy not want you?" "But Sophie's your daughter too. Mommy said she's sick too... and if you stayed with Sophie, I wasn't allowed to bother you. But I missed you so much." She wrapped her arms around his neck like she couldn't bear to let go. Isabelle rushed out too, her face full of guilt and worry."Charles, it's my fault—I didn't manage her well. I'm sorry." Compared to Stella's outbursts, Isabelle had clearly raised Olivia to be sweet and well-behaved. That only made Charles feel even more protective of her. "I'm the one who made you suffer all those years abroad alone. You don't need to apologize. Are your things packed? Let's head to the hospital now." Isabelle gave him a soft nod, then suddenly caught a glimpse of a faint bite mark near the collar of his black shirt. It flashed by quickly, but she saw it. Clearly, he'd been with Stella just now—so caught up he even ignored Olivia's call. Her expression instantly shifted as she forced down the jealousy in her eyes. When she looked up again, her face was all gentle and warm. "Charles, maybe let Olivia down for now. Don't spoil her too much." She reached out as she spoke, but her foot slipped, and she tumbled straight into his arms. Olivia burst out laughing. "Mommy's being shy! She wants Daddy to hug her too. Daddy kissed me earlier, now it's Mommy's turn or she'll get jealous!" Isabelle glanced shyly at Charles, her eyes full of affection. She was wearing a low-cut sweater dress, showing just enough pale skin to give off a soft, confident allure. But Charles only stepped back and took his arm away, keeping Olivia in his arms as he bounced her slightly. "You little rascal, let's see what you've packed this time." Olivia giggled and started chattering away. Isabelle, watching them, slowly clenched her fists behind her back. — After returning to her family's home, Stella scrubbed herself in the shower until her skin was red, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't scrub away the traces Charles had left behind. She curled up on the bathroom floor, hugging her knees in silence. Only after a long while did she drag herself up and peel off the soaked bandage on her head. Looking in the mirror, her pale face and the ugly wound on her forehead stared back. She redid the wound care herself. She had to find out what really happened with the Johnson Group. She had to repay everything owed to the Hart family. And most of all, she had to make Charles pay—for Sophie's death. She couldn't just give up like some beaten-down loser. After charging her phone, Stella tried to recall those terrifying memories, but the faces of the thugs who came to collect debt were still a blur. The second she turned her phone on, messages started pouring in—she hadn't even opened them when Renee Kelly called. "What the hell's going on with you? The deadline passed three days ago! You know that's a breach of contract, right?" That jolted Stella's memory. Right before Sophie's last attack, she'd accepted a commission. If she didn't deliver, she'd have to pay a fifty-thousand-yuan penalty. Even though Charles never hesitated when it came to money, Stella never wanted to be that kind of useless, good-for-nothing. After marrying him, she'd kept at composing part-time online and even built up a bit of a reputation. Renee, who dealt with assigning work, had never met her in person—just a straight-talking, no-nonsense pro. "Renee, I—" Stella didn't even know where to begin. Luckily, after working together for so long, Renee didn't press. "I managed to buy you some time. I've sent you the address, go handle the client face to face." With that, she hung up. Stella checked the address and frowned. Rosehill Villa? Seriously? What are the odds? She didn't delay. After freshening up briefly, she grabbed a taxi to the location. After signing in at the gate, she'd barely walked a few steps inside before running into Isabelle. "Stella? You're looking for Charles? He's already taken Olivia to the hospital. Come on in and rest. I'm just grabbing some clothes for him—he was so worried about Olivia, he even forgot to pack his own underwear." Isabelle smiled warmly, like she completely forgot how Stella had nearly strangled her at the hospital the other day. Acting all friendly and chill, yet dropping little landmines in every sentence—each one full of teasing intimacy she made sure Stella could hear.