Chapter 7

Can't afford the penalty? Charles really underestimated her. Without waiting for a response, Stella gripped the sheet music tight with both hands and tore it apart. Before he could stop her, she crouched down and ripped it into even smaller pieces, then tossed the fragments right onto his head. "This is the score you wanted." Her voice trembled as she spoke each word slowly. She was furious—even her chest hurt from the rage. Her head spun a little, but she forced herself to stand tall. No way was she going to fall apart in front of him. Funny, wasn't it? She spent six years showing him every bit of her vulnerability without holding back. But he never offered an ounce of tenderness in return. Charles was completely thrown by her sudden move. His face darkened, and he stormed forward, reaching out to grab Stella's wrist. "Stella, are you out of your mind? Do you even know what you're doing?" She staggered back a few steps, her body swaying, clearly struggling to stay upright. "I'm not crazy. I've never been more clearheaded. This music? No way I'm giving it to Olivia." Sophie, Mommy won't hand your song over to some other child. Never. She felt dizzier by the second, a wave of nausea rising from her stomach. Pressing herself against the wall for support, her eyes still burned with defiance. She wasn't backing down one bit. Watching her like this, Charles was reminded more and more of the reckless girl she used to be. Maybe the obedient, gentle side she showed the past six years was all fake. He snapped out of his thoughts momentarily, his tone still cold. "Really, Stella? So this is how tough you want to play it?" Taking a shaky breath, she bit her lip. Her lips had gone pale from strain. "I can pay fifty thousand—that's what we agreed when I took the job." Charles raised an eyebrow, letting out a mocking chuckle. "Fifty thousand? Stella, you seem confused. You're three days overdue already. Based on the contract, that's ten times the original amount—five hundred thousand." Half a million? Stella's mind went blank. She forced a sarcastic smile through the overwhelm. There was no way she could pull that kind of money together. But caving in? Giving up just like that? Then she wouldn't be a mother worthy of Sophie. "Charles, are you seriously gonna be this heartless?" He had once shared her bed, knew her better than anyone. And maybe that was exactly why he knew where to hurt her most. He knew she couldn't afford that much. He wasn't trying to negotiate—he was trying to crush her. All because of his precious mistress's daughter, Olivia. Yet Sophie, their daughter, never even got a shred of affection. How could someone be so outrageously biased? Charles scowled. "You brought this on yourself. If you had just handed over the music, none of this would've happened." Stella looked at him, suddenly feeling strangely calm. A bitter smile crept up on her lips. "Fine. Five hundred thousand it is. I'll find a way to pay you back, little by little. But don't expect me to do a damn thing for your sweetheart's daughter." With that, she turned to leave. Charles reacted instantly, rushing after her and grabbing her arm. "If you walk out now, don't think you'll get away so easily. And stop dragging Sophie into this—she's not your bargaining chip." Sophie? Stella let out a dry laugh. Oh, so he still remembered Sophie? What a joke. She shoved his hand off with all her remaining strength, her body swaying dangerously. "Let me say this one last time—Sophie's gone. She died while you were throwing a birthday party for Olivia with your precious Isabelle." Charles froze, but the storm on his face only intensified. He yanked her arm, his eyes dark with fury."Stella, you're seriously heartless. Cursing your own daughter again and again, I—" Before Charles could finish, Stella's knees gave out and she collapsed right into his arms. "This trick won't work on me. I'm telling you, you still have to—" He didn't finish either. In that instant, Charles realized something was very wrong. Stella's face was colorless, and her lips were pale and dry. "Jason!" Jason had already rushed over by the time Charles called out. Spotting Stella passed out in his arms, his brow immediately furrowed hard. "You really had to push her this far? That's twice now she's fainted. Her body's in terrible shape." "I'm starting to think you're abusing her." Charles looked grim, voice sharp. "Cut the nonsense and help her out." Jason sighed and shrugged, then helped lay Stella on the bed. "Last time, I told you—her condition's because of emotional stress and skipping meals. She needs real rest. And now you pissed her off again? No wonder she passed out. She probably hasn't eaten. We need to get nutrients in her, fast." He worked quickly, giving her an IV with nutrients. Charles stood next to the bed, quietly watching her frail, bloodless face. Then, wordlessly, he crouched and started picking up the pieces of the shredded musical score one by one. Jason glanced over and raised his brows. "You're trying to piece that back together?" "Yeah. It matters." Knowing better than to meddle, Jason said nothing more. It wasn't clear how much time passed before Stella's eyes finally fluttered open. She blinked at the unfamiliar room and then turned to see Charles sitting by the bed. The memory of what had happened came rushing back. She tried to push herself up. Seeing this, Charles instinctively moved to help her, only for her to slap his hand away abruptly. "Don't touch me!" Her voice was laced with disgust. Charles's brows drew together. He opened his mouth, wanting to speak, but ended up silent. At that moment, Jason stepped in and gave a little sigh of relief. "Thank god you're awake. You're still really weak—try not to move too much." Stella looked between Jason and Charles, then let out a cold laugh. "What, scared I'd die before I paid back your precious penalty fee?" Charles frowned and said sternly, "Stella, stop twisting things. I want to see Sophie." She cut him off right away, "I already told you—you're never seeing her again." Charles didn't feel like arguing. He grabbed a tuna sandwich sitting on the side table. "Eat this." But Stella wasn't buying it for a second. "Not hungry." Seeing tension spark between them again, Jason stepped in quickly. "Alright, enough. Miss Johnson, your health's the priority. Let's deal with the penalty stuff when you're back on your feet." If it weren't for their ridiculous contract, she wouldn't be in this mess to begin with. Now they want to come off like the good guys? "No need. I'll pay it. Every cent. I owe you nothing." With that, she swung her legs off the bed, dead set on leaving. Charles's expression darkened as he reached out to stop her again. "Look at yourself right now. Where do you think you're going? Stop pushing it." That stubborn look in her eyes only made his jaw tighten. Without a word, he grabbed her chin, forcing her face toward him. With his other hand, he picked up a sandwich, tore off a chunk with his fingers, and shoved it against her lips. "Eat it," he growled. She turned her head away, but he held her still. "I said—eat." But then his phone rang out of nowhere. He let go and put the sandwich back where it was. That ringtone—he knew it well. Isabelle. He answered with a softened voice, "Hey, what's up?"