Chapter 230
The Hockey Star’s Remorse
The blinding lights bore down on me, casting harsh shadows across the sterile room. I felt a flicker of defiance amidst the terror as I stared at the camera lens, knowing that somewhere out there, Timothy might be watching.
âStella, shut up!â Bruceâs voice sliced through the tension, his eyes ablaze with frustration. âYouâre interrupting the stream.â
Stellaâs smirk barely faltered. âI want to make sure Timothyâs watching,â she retorted, her tone laced with a sinister edge that sent shivers down my spine.
âTimothy?â I couldnât help but speak his name, a desperate plea for some semblance of salvation. âHeâll find you. And when he doesâ¦â
Bruceâs patience wore thin, his hand lashing out to strike me across the cheek with a sickening thud. Pain exploded across my face, but I refused to let fear silence me. âDonât say his name,â he growled, his voice laced with menace as he moved to cover my mouth, his fingers digging into my skin.
I met his glare with defiance, refusing to let my spirit be broken by their cruelty. But Stellaâs callousness knew no bounds. âThe viewers are annoyed,â she remarked coldly. âThey want to hear your screams, Evie, not your complaining.â
The sheer horror of her words made my blood run cold. I fought against Bruceâs grasp, the need to get his grimy fingers off overwhelming me. But the bindings rendered my struggles futile.
Stellaâs gaze shifted to Bruce, a demanding edge in her voice. âGet the chemicals again. Itâs what they want.â
Bruce hesitated, a rare display of reluctance evident in his eyes. âItâs too dangerous,â he protested, a hint of concern cutting through his facade of cruelty.
Stellaâs patience wore thin,
ar voice turning Icy. âI donât care. They want to see her suffer.â
My heart raced as I watched their exchange, a nauseating realization settling within me. They werenât even on the same page with how far they wanted to go.
The room felt suffocating, the air thick with the stench of chemicals. As the tension crackled between Stella and Bruce, I strained against the restraints, my heart pounding in my chest.
âYouâre a wimp, Bruce,â Stella sneered, her words dripping with disdain. âI shouldâve hired an actual man to do the job.â
Bruceâs jaw clenched in frustration. âFine! Do it yourself then,â he snapped back, his patience wearing thin.
Stellaâs retort was swift. âHello, no! And donât you dare speak to me like that!â she spat, her anger palpable. âWhile you are the one whoâs been screwing everything up, I would never touch that stuff.â
Bruce glowered at her. The tension was escalating by the second. Sensing an opportunity, I seized the moment, hoping to exploit their rift.
âYouâre both pathetic,â I interjected, my voice laced with contempt. âYou; Bruce, couldnât even kill me yourself, had to hire someone else who couldnât even do it right.â
Bruceâs nostrils flared with anger, his eyes narrowing to slits. âShut up!â he barked at me.
Stella halted midâinsult, a perplexed look crossing her face. âWhatâs she talking about, Bruce?â she demanded.
I seized the moment, my voice ringing out with accusation. âBruce almost got Scarlett killed because he
mistook her for me!â I declared. âOf course, if he had actually been there to do it himself, he wouldâve had the right description.â
The room fell silent, the weight of my words sinking in. Stellaâs expression shifted from anger to *confusion, realization dawning in her eyes.
Bruceâs face paled, his eyes widening with alarm. He opened his mouth to protest, but the truth had already been laid bare. Panic flickered in his gaze, his attempt to control the situation slipping through his fingers.
Stellaâs gaze snapped to Bruce, a mixture of shock and fury etched on her features. âIs this true?â she asked tentayily.
Bruceâs silence spoke volumes, confirming the damning truth of his mistake. My heart raced with a glimmer of hope.
âIt was a mixâup with the hitman I hired,â Bruce admitted, his voice strained with an attempt to salvage the situation, though his words only added fuel to the fire.
Stellaâs panic was palpable, her eyes wide with shock and fury. âYou nearly killed my sister!â she accused, her voice trembling with rage.
âStella, calm down,â Bruce attempted to placate her, his tone tinged with urgency.
âShe thought it was me, you know,â she gritted out, advancing on him. âShe accused me of having her shot.â
âStella-â
âShut up!â Stellaâs voice cracked with emotion. âAnd you were just going to keep it a secret this whole time. Turns out, you had just as much of a hand in that as Evie.â
âI never intended for that to happen,â Bruce muttered, his voice strained. âShe was just there at the wrong place at the wrong time, and the guy was probably too far away, or maybe he didnât remember the description.â
Stella scoffed. âThen maybe donât buy the cheapest hitman you could find on the internet, dumbass! Evie isnât even a red head!â
âThe hitman couldnât tell the difference,â Bruce confessed, his words weighted with a callous flippancy that only seemed to stoke the fire of Stellaâs fury.
Stellaâs anger surged, her eyes blazing with a searing intensity. âCouldnât tell the difference?â she seethed. âAre you kidding me?â
âWould you stop yelling? She lived, didnât she?â Bruce shouted back, leaning over her.
âHow can you be so flippant about this?â Stellaâs ch*st heaved and she turned away from him. âSo. careless? She couldâve died if she wasnât so lucky!â
Right then, Bruce rolled his eyes, his teeth bared in a snarl. âYouâre getting really close to the same fate. Keep talking to me the way you are right now.â
But Stella was beyond reason, her anger consuming her. âWho the fuck do you think you are? Youâre some greasy nob*dy who I paid to be here!â
âI donât need your stupid money.â His eyes followed her as she backed away, bumping into the table of
various tools. As her eyes scanned over each of them, he became alert. âWhat are you doing?â
âIâll kill you, you stupid bastard!â she spat, her hand reaching for one of the knives laid out on the table. Her fingers curled around the hilt, wielding the blade with a frenzied desperation.
Bruceâs annoyance simmered into a dark fury as Stella brandished the knife, her movements erratic and menacing. âPut that down, Stella,â he growled, his patience wearing thin..
But Stella was unrelenting, her grip tightening around the knife as she advanced towards Bruce, her eyes wild with a mix of anger and terror. The air crackled with danger, the room suffused with at palpable sense of impending violence.
Bruceâs face contorted with rage and fear, his hand moving in a swift, desperate motion. In a flash, she lunged forward, snatching the knife from Stellaâs grip and plunging it into her, the blade sinking into her abdomen.
Time seemed to freeze as the room filled with Stellaâs strangled cry. She staggered backward, a look of betrayal and agony etched across her face. Blood seeped from the wound, staining her clothes as she crumpled to the ground, the echo of her cries reverberating in the stark room.