Unlike Chris’s tense situation, Stella was well in Weston’s arms as he made a beeline for his car from
The Dog House.
Along the way, many people cast curious glances at them. Stella subconsciously buried her face in his
arms, triggering Weston’s light chuckle. “Still shy?” Stella kept quiet. A while later, she whispered softly
into his ear, “Can you let me down so I can walk myself?” Weston carried her higher instead. “Can you
even walk by yourself, given your current state?” “I just hurt my back. My legs are fine.” The moment
she said that, Weston suddenly released his hold over her.
“Ah!”
Stella’s body descended abruptly, and she instinctively let out a yelp as she hugged his neck tight.
She looked up into a pair of smiling eyes.
“Still want to walk by yourself?”
“You did that on purpose!” Stella sputtered indignantly. “So what if I did?”
Stella’s brows furrowed as she adjusted herself, clearly dissatisfied.
Her subtle movements, however, displeased him. Weston’s face darkened as he patted her butt. “Be
good.” Stella’s face blushed bright red. “Let me go! I want to come down! It’s not like I can’t walk…”
Weston threatened her in a low voice, “If you keep squirming around, I’ll really make you unable to
walk.”
Stella went silent.
Why did she feel like there was a hidden meaning in his words?
Given how thick-skinned he was, she believed he was definitely capable of fulfilling his threats.
She dared not move and could only stay obediently in his embrace. He strode quickly to his car and
settled her in the backseat. He wasn’t sure if it was because his threat was overly harsh, but Weston
realized that Stella said nothing more after they had entered the car.
He instructed the driver to start the engine and move off.. Stella curled herself into a tight ball and
pressed herself against a corner as much as possible, refusing to talk and look at him. No matter what
he said to her, she didn’t utter a single word and persisted in ignoring him. Weston knew she was angry
at him, but he found it hilarious and simply let her be. He reached out a retrieved a bottle of ointment
from the cabinet.
The last time Stella was injured from filming a fighting scene, Weston had prepared a bottle in the car
just in case. He didn’t think that it would one day come in handy.
His eyes were dark as he surveyed the glass bottle in his hand. Since when did he care for a woman to
such an extent and detail?
He would never bother preparing such little things in the past. “Come here. I’ll help you rub this on your
wound.”
Stella saw the ointment in his hand and was stunned for a moment, though she continued ignoring
him… save for a glint that flashed past her eyes.
There were so many details that she felt herself on the verge of being captivated. But which one was
the real Weston Ford?
How was it possible for someone so detailed and gentle to treat her so heartlessly in the past?
Weston saw her remaining silent and reached out to pinch her nose. “You’re a full-grown adult and still
throw such childish tantrums?”
He reached out to lift her shirt up.
Stella slapped his hand away and pulled her shirt back down. “What are you trying to do? Don’t get
handsy.”
Clearly, she was keeping her guard up.
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