Chapter 4

Stella tried to scramble to her feet, desperate to escape, but her knees buckled beneath her, and her body felt heavy—like it was filled with lead. She could barely move. Before she had a chance to stand, Banker William grabbed her wrist. With a swift twist, she was thrown back onto the bed, pinned under his weight. "Stella, my little darling, I’ve wanted you for so long," Banker William murmured, his face creeping closer as he pressed kisses against her cheek and neck. Stella’s stomach churned, and she fought to push him off. She was too weak, her body limp, her movements more like a feeble attempt than a real struggle. Banker William was frantic, consumed by desire. His heavy frame pressed down on her as he kissed her relentlessly. He hastily unbuckled his belt, his intentions clear. Stella’s face drained of color as terror washed over her. She clutched the sheets, twisting her powerless body in a desperate attempt to escape. But she was too weak, too exhausted. She couldn’t even manage to shift an inch. Banker William grabbed her delicate ankle and yanked her back, closing the gap between them even further. Humiliated beyond belief, Stella felt as though she might die right there. But there was nothing she could do. She didn’t even have the strength to end it herself. Banker William leaned in to kiss her again, but Stella barely managed to turn her head away. "Get off me!" she gasped, her voice weak. "Don’t touch me, or Eric will make you pay!" Banker William chuckled darkly, his hands moving toward the opening of her dress. "Don’t think I don’t know," he said, his voice dripping with malice. "You’ve already severed your ties with Eric. He won’t care about you anymore." Stella’s heart sank, a wave of regret crashing over her. She tried to protest, "No, I haven’t—" But her words were drowned out by the sound of her dress ripping. The night was eerily quiet. Eric had just left the dinner meeting and was getting into his car. He’d been meeting with a major client, and in a moment of weakness, they had poured him far too much whiskey. Now, the alcohol was taking its toll, making his head spin and his thoughts cloudy. The driver glanced at Eric's face in the rearview mirror, speaking quietly, "Alpha, are we heading home tonight?" By "home," the driver meant Eric's usual apartment. Eric pressed a hand to his forehead, slowly opening his eyes. He stared at the ceiling of the car, feeling disoriented. "No," he said, his voice thick with the alcohol. "Take me to Stella’s place." Stella’s house was once the place he had considered his own. The woman now needed fifty million dollars, and this seemed like the perfect opportunity for her to behave herself, perhaps because of his drunken state. At that moment, he was eager to see her soft and compliant, even though he knew full well that any tenderness she showed would be laced with ulterior motives. The driver immediately obeyed, starting the car. Eric rubbed his temples, his discomfort growing as the alcohol clouded his thoughts. He rolled down the window to get some fresh air. Just then, he spotted a familiar figure standing by the side of the road. It was Stella’s stepmother, Thorne, grinning as she spoke with a familiar, balding, round man. Eric's brow furrowed, unease washing over him. "Stop the car!" he barked, his command sharper than his thoughts. The driver quickly complied. On the side of the road, Thorne was laughing as she ushered the balding man into a hotel. She then turned and walked toward a van. A van? Eric’s instincts kicked in, and he knew something was off. He opened the car door and quickly moved toward Thorne. Thorne, pleased that Banker William had agreed to the loan investment, stood by the van, humming to herself as she dug out her phone, ready to call Carlson with the good news. "Ms. Thorne." A deep, chilling voice called from behind her. Thorne jumped in surprise, nearly dropping her phone. She quickly turned around and said, “Ah, Alpha Eric, you're still not home this late?” Eric's dark eyes locked onto her with an intense gaze, his voice cold as he replied, “Aren’t you still here too?” Thorne awkwardly chuckled a few times and said, “I was just about to leave…” Eric didn’t respond. He didn’t move, standing still in front of her with a commanding presence that made her hesitate to leave. After a long silence, she couldn’t hold herself back anymore and spoke up. “Alpha Eric, about… you and Stella, the mark removal—she acted impulsively. She really still loves you…” Before she could finish, a wave of cold swept over her, so intense it made her instinctively shut her mouth in fear. “What did you say?” Eric’s voice dropped to a chilling, dangerous tone. “Mark removal?” Thorne took a cautious step back, her voice barely audible. “Stella told me… she said your marriage wasn’t happy, and that you’d already removed the mark…” The coldness around Eric intensified, making the temperature drop several degrees. That woman—so she’d already planned to remove the mark! So, Stella had intended to leave him all along. Eric hadn’t known it, but now he realized she had been plotting her escape for a while. What a fool he had been... His fists clenched, his face frozen like ice. Without another word, he turned and headed for his car. She would regret this. Tonight, he’d make sure she understood—no matter how unhappy their marriage had been, she would never leave him. Not in a thousand lifetimes. Once she married him, she would always be his—even if it cost her everything. Thorne stood there, still shaken, watching as Eric, radiating cold fury, strode away. It left her feeling confused. Why did it feel like Eric still cared about Stella? Had they really removed the mark? Or was Stella just lying to them? Maybe she didn’t want to help them make more money anymore! As that thought crossed her mind, a surge of anger bubbled up within Thorne. If Stella dared to deceive them like this, she'd make sure that vile girl paid for it. All these years, Thorne had forced herself to play the role of a motherly figure to Stella, using her as a pawn to secure benefits. But if Stella had outlived her usefulness and stopped following orders, what was she even keeping that woman around for? To fight over her inheritance? Thorne quickly got into her car, intending to have Carlson investigate thoroughly to find out if the mark had truly been removed. As for what was happening in the hotel room, Thorne had no intention of stopping it. A night’s sleep for a $50 million low-interest loan—that woman was worth nothing more than that. Meanwhile, Eric, still consumed by cold fury, got into his car. Unable to contain his rage, he barked, “Drive. Get me home. Now!” The car immediately started. Eric leaned back in his seat, the cool air rushing through the window. Maybe it was the alcohol still affecting him, but the throbbing pain in his forehead worsened, deepening his anger. His mind was consumed with rage, and he couldn’t keep it in anymore. He pulled out his phone and called Stella. The fury in his chest was ready to erupt the moment the call was answered. But when the phone picked up, all he heard was the cold mechanical voice of voicemail: “Sorry, the number you have dialed is not available.” The unanswered call was like pouring gasoline on his already raging fire, fueling it into an uncontrollable blaze. “Stella!” he gritted through clenched teeth, slamming his phone onto the car floor with a deafening crash. The driver in front jerked back in surprise, shrinking his body and holding his breath. Eric slammed his phone in fury, but the anger still raged within him. He kicked the front seat with all his might, like a lion in a fit of pure rage. The window was still down, and the cold wind rushed inside. Eric pressed his fingers to his forehead, his lips tight and thin, struggling with every ounce of strength to suppress the burning rage inside him. His face was cold and hard, revealing no emotion, as he fought to calm himself. Suddenly, his heart clenched, a wave of unease spreading through him. Eric opened his eyes, the anger still simmering, but his chaotic thoughts slowly began to settle. He remembered the bald man—a familiar face. The president of Hua Qing Bank. A man who had once relentlessly pursued Stella. Why was Thorne here now? Why at such a suspicious time, in such an ambiguous place near the hotel? Could it be...? "Stop the car!" Eric sat up straighter, his voice trembling with anxiety. "Turn around. Go back!" The driver, caught off guard, didn’t dare ask any questions. Panicking, he quickly turned the car around. The road was a two-way street, and traffic was heavy on the other lane. In his fluster, the driver accidentally collided head-on with an oncoming car. The other car was speeding, the momentum too strong, and in an instant, it slammed into Eric’s car with a vicious crash, flipping it onto its side with a deafening sound. The window shattered on impact, sending glass scattering in a brutal, chaotic mess. Eric, who hadn’t fastened his seatbelt, was thrown backward by the intense force of inertia. His body was hurled, crashing alongside the overturned car, landing on the road covered in sharp shards of glass. The glass pierced his muscles instantly, and blood poured out in torrents.