Chapter 6

Stella's POV

The villa was terrifyingly quiet that evening.

After Lucas calmed Serena down, he finally came home.

I didn't need to guess to know he expected my accusations and arguments. He'd already prepared his explanations.

But the living room was empty.

He went upstairs to the bedroom and pushed open the door. I sat at the vanity, clumsily rewrapping the bandage on my right wrist with my left hand.

Lucas cleared his throat and spoke.

"Today was an accident. To make it up to you, I booked your favorite restaurant. I'll take you for a good meal."

I paused my movements but didn't refuse.

"Okay."

Half an hour later, we arrived at the restaurant.

Pushing open the private room door, my steps halted.

Serena sat inside. Seeing us, she smiled sweetly.

"Stella, Lucas said you were frightened today, so he specially brought me to apologize to you."

I said nothing and pulled out a chair to sit down.

Lucas called over a waiter and ordered a whole table of dishes without even looking at the menu.

"Lobster, king crab, oysters..."

All seafood.

After the dishes arrived, Lucas pushed almost all the seafood in front of Serena.

"You were scared today. Eat more to recover."

Serena thanked him shyly, then looked at me with only a glass of lemon water.

"Stella, why aren't you eating? This seafood is expensive. You probably can't usually afford it, right?"

I looked at the table full of seafood and smiled.

Seven years.

Lucas didn't even know I was severely allergic to seafood.

Or maybe he knew. He just didn't care. His mind was full of only what Serena liked to eat.

"I'm not hungry."

I stood up.

"You two take your time. I'm heading back."

"Stella, what's wrong with you now?"

Lucas slammed the table, furious.

"I take you out to eat, and you give me that attitude. Who's that supposed to be for?"

I looked at his angry expression and almost laughed.

"Enjoy your food, Lucas. Don't let it go cold."

With that, I walked out of the private room without looking back.

Returning to the villa, I pulled out several large black trash bags.

I swept it all into trash bags. The matching outfits Lucas bought. The necklaces. Even the matching toothbrush cups.

Then I took down our photos from the wall and fed them into the shredder without a second thought.

Finally, I took off the engagement ring I'd worn for three years.

Lucas had bought it on a whim three years ago, after my first tour championship win, just to keep me happy.

But I'd treated it like treasure.

I set the ring on the living room table, using it to hold down a sticky note.

The note had only one line.

"Lucas, we're done. I'm going home to marry someone else."

Then I dragged two suitcases out of the villa. The place that had trapped me for seven years.