Guinevere saw the subtle change in Stellaâs eyes, and she gradually straightened herself up,â Ellaâ¦â
Stella composed herself, hiding all traces of emotions from her face. She rested her chin on her hands and asked pensively, âMs. Cohen, why are you sharing all these with me?â
Guinevereâs chest that had tightened upon seeing the expression on Stellaâs face just now relaxed.
This Ella always gave a strange vibe, and she couldnât help but associate her with Stella.
Now that she observed her reaction towards her words, she looked like she genuinely did not care about what happened to Stellaâ¦was she really not Stella?
Guinevere opened her mouth, âPardon me, it must be because I think you look so much like her that I couldnât help but share a little moreâ¦â âThereâs no point sharing so much with me. Iâm not her.â
Stella cut her off, âAlso, Iâm not so close to you, Ms. Cohen. Not everyone throws themselves at every famous celebrity they come across and clamor to hear such meaningless gossip. If you mportant to say, Ms. Cohen, please donât bother me while Iâm at work.â
With that, she stood up and pulled out some notes from her purse, which she placed on the table under her coffee cup. âThis money should be sufficient for my share.â
She turned around to exit the café, leaving Guinevere alone at the table, staring at her back with a nasty expression on her face.
The Stella of the past would never speak to someone else with that tone.
She sneered at the bills under the coffee cup and shut her eyes.
A moment later, she opened her eyes and glanced at a strand of hair lying in her hands, and her eyes grew cold.
A simple DNA comparison would reveal the answer as to whether they are one and the same person.
Right before work ended.
Stella packed up all her belongings and was about to leave when she heard someone calling out for her from behind, âTeacher Ella!
She turned around and saw the woman gossiping about her this morning. She said expressionlessly, âWhatâs the matter?â
Joyce Duxton saw the distance in her eyes, and her smile faded slightly. âWhat did Guinevere Cohen look for you today regarding?â
Stella was amused by her question. âWhatâs that got to do with you?â
Joyce behaved like her mortal enemy while gossiping about her behind her back, yet now she was trying to pretend like they were the closest friends.
Joyceâs face changed as she said agitatedly, âIt was just a casual question. Must you be so proud and haughty? Just because you have more students than the rest of usâ¦â Not bothered to argue with her, Stella stood up and left, irritated. Joyce was still mumbling something under her breath when she saw that Stella had closed the door in her face. âThat whore!â she sputtered with a nasty expression.
âWhatâs there to be proud of?â
The door closed.
Joyceâs insults sounded through the door into Stellaâs ears.
Stella shut her eyes and walked forward, determined.
She had just arrived at the traffic junction and was about to hail a taxi when a familiar-looking Rolls-
Royce Cullinan pulled up right before her.
The window wound down, revealing a dark and handsome side profile. Westonâs hand rested leisurely on the steering wheel, his brows raised as he uttered two brief words, âGet in.â
NS Stella furrowed her brows and ignored him as she continued straight ahead.
Quickly, Westonâs patience ran out. He leaped out of the car, grabbed her wrist, and dragged her unceremoniously into his vehicle.
The door then slammed shut.
âWhat exactly do you two want?!â Stella screamed.
Her eyes were burning with rage as she stared at the man before her with scornful hatred.â Weston Ford, you were the one who wanted me to disappear before your eyes. Can you please stop appearing in my life like an irritating fly?â
He tightened his grip over her wrist with a force that almost broke her bone into two.
With a voice as deep and cold as the ocean, he said, âWhat did you say I am?â