Chapter 4

Stella's POV

The car interior fell deathly silent.

I held the phone, taking a long time to find my voice.

"Griffin, what kind of joke is this?"

"I'm not joking."

The voice on the other end became utterly serious.

"Stella, since Lucas doesn't treasure you, let me. We grew up together. I absolutely won't let you suffer even the slightest grievance."

I lowered my eyes, looking at my bandaged wrist.

Seven years of love. I'd lost completely and utterly.

But I, Stella, was never someone who would wallow in the mud.

Since I'd decided to cut ties, I would cut them completely clean.

"Okay."

I took a deep breath.

"Give me half a month to handle things here, then I'll come find you."

"You don't need to come back."

Griffin laughed lightly, his tone carrying unquestionable authority.

"I'm flying there tomorrow to pick you up. Your wrist needs the best doctors. I've already made arrangements."

After hanging up, a long-absent warmth surged in my heart.

So this was what it felt like to be firmly chosen and properly taken care of.

The next morning, I arrived on time at the "Starshine" tennis club where I was based.

Just as I reached the manager's office door, I heard Lucas's voice.

"Give the US Open wildcard to Serena."

Lucas's tone was a command that brooked no refusal.

I froze mid-reach for the door handle.

Lucas's Luton Corporation was Starshine Club's biggest sponsor.

The manager looked troubled.

"Mr. Luton, this isn't right. Stella earned that wildcard. Serena is an amateur. This..."

"Stella's wrist is injured. She needs to rest."

Lucas coldly interrupted him.

"Serena's been emotionally low lately. She needs a high-profile competition to rebuild her confidence. This is decided."

"Not only that,"

Lucas paused, then continued,

"Have Stella serve as Serena's practice partner during this time and coach her technique."

Standing outside the door, I was so angry I had to laugh.

Make a Grand Slam runner-up serve as practice partner for an amateur? And hand over the US Open wildcard I'd fought for with my life?

Lucas, just how shameless could you be?

I pushed open the door and walked straight in.

Seeing me, Lucas showed no embarrassment at being caught. Instead, he spoke matter-of-factly.

"Perfect timing. You heard what I just said, right? Your wrist can't handle high-intensity matches anyway, so give the wildcard to Serena. The practice partner arrangement is for your own good too. Keep your touch."

I looked at this well-dressed, handsome man and felt my stomach churn.

"Lucas, what makes you think I'd agree to such an absurd demand?"

I looked at him coldly.

Lucas frowned.

"Stella, can you not be so selfish? Serena needs this opportunity!"

"She needs it, so I must give it to her?"

I walked to the desk, pulled a document from my bag, and slammed it down heavily.

"This is my contract termination application."

I looked at the manager.

"I'll pay the penalty. Every cent."

The manager was shocked.

"Stella, don't be impulsive!"

Lucas's face instantly darkened.

"Stella, you're threatening me with termination?"

"Threaten?"

I smiled mockingly.

"Lucas, you think too highly of yourself. I just feel that staying in a club that can't even guarantee basic athlete dignity is disgusting."

"You!"

Lucas shot to his feet, his eyes sharp.

"Fine, very good! Stella, you've grown bold! Let me see which club dares sign a defective product with a ruined wrist!"

"No need to trouble yourself, Mr. Luton."

I turned around, spine straight, and walked out of the office without a backward glance.

Lucas watched my retreating figure and laughed coldly.

I didn't need to look back to know he must be thinking I was just throwing a tantrum and would come crying back to him within three days.

After all, he thought I loved him that much.